what is wrong with the eyes

The birds & the bees

A/N: Someone requested this from somebody else who didn’t wanna write it & I couldn’t help myself. Reader walks in on Dean with a lady friend & the boys have to explain what was happening.

Dean’s age-22   Sam’s age-18   Reader’s age-8

Dean x Sister!Reader    Sam x Sister!Reader

Originally posted by mylife-in--color

Originally posted by writingissatansworstnightmare

“Why can’t we go to the library?” You asked as you hurried to keep up with your older brother walking down the sidewalk.

“I already told you Y/N,” Sam replied, looking behind him he noticed you were struggling at the rate he was walking and slowed down, “Gimme your backpack.” He told you as he reached for it.

You quickly took off your old green hand-me-down backpack and gave it to Sam, “Thanks Sammy. That was heavy.”

“No problem.” Sam replied as he shrugged it onto his shoulder, “Let’s go, I wanna get back to the motel so I can start my project.”

“Okay, but why can’t we go to the library. I wanted to get more books on animals, if I’m gonna be a vetra-vetrana-what’s the word again?” You questioned.

“Veterinarian.” Sam answered, “And we aren’t going to the library because they’re closed today; they’re renovating the ceilings.”

“Ohhhhh.” You exaggerated, “Will you help me with my math homework when we get home?”

“Course, we gotta get you through third grade math before you can be a vet.” Sam told you with a smile.

“Thanks Sammy.” You said, returning the smile he gave you which showed off the gap in your front teeth.

“No problem bug, now…race you to the motel room!” Sam shouted as you rounded the corner into the motel parking lot.

You took off as fast as you could; Sam was close behind you, however you had the advantage since he was being weighed down by two backpacks. As you approached the motel door you looked behind, “Too slow to keep up Sammy!” You shouted as him before turning back towards the door and quickly swinging it open so that you could gloat about beating your brother to Dean.

Stepping inside you started to talk to your oldest brother, “Dean! You won’t bel-what are you doing to that lady?” You questioned with a confused face when you realized Dean head was between her legs.

Keep reading

mulders-boyish-enthousiasm  asked:

How would Scully react to Mulder dropping a condom wrapping in the office?

not fucking well, dude. i just realized this wasn’t in the office, sorry!

set… post one son.


She misses him. This detail is what sometimes turns that steady simmer of annoyance – always present, even on their best days, it’s just elemental to feel whittled and weakened by him, just as it is to feel his necessity – into a rapid, unforgiving boil. And she loathes it as much as he does. This anger wears her down. This anger makes her stupid. She is weighed by it, can’t control it. And when she misses him, it’s even harder to rationalize.

But how could she not miss him? Mulder rewrites everything she has ever known about companionship. There is a seeking missile in him that works and works to pinpoint all that Dana Scully is missing in her life, and then it works to fill it.

And he is sweet. Oh, he is sweet. The gentler side of Mulder is actually all grit: the sandpaper of it smooths her out, those rugged, wary edges of her oscillating mistrust. He doesn’t listen. He never listens. He is his own first thought when he wakes up and he is the one he falls asleep to. He betrayed her. But he helps her with her coat at the end of a long work day. He is patient with her, does not take her resentment for granted. He is a shock-absorber for her bitterness. A continent-jumper, all in her honor. He carries on with his half of their partnership as if nothing had changed, his unshakable optimism imploring her that it really hadn’t. He flirts with her. He fights with her. He gets her coffee right.

But this morning he takes it further. She begins to wonder how deep her hostility cuts him – she begins to worry. He comes into the office in a rumpled suit, his face unshaven. He downs aspirin and coffee in three hour intervals. It had been almost a year since she had seen him this disheveled, back when he had nothing to believe in.

Except for her.

He clings to her. In every other way but physically, finds a million different things to talk about, fills up even the healthy silences with his rambling chatter. “Scully?” he asks. Every time she takes too long to answer. “Scully?” And that total relief when she looks up to reply. He stays in the basement for lunch, eats nothing, when she tells him she brought her lunch with her. Follows her when she checks on results from the print lab. She’s annoyed, but mostly bewildered. Then there’s the physical. His hand on her back, yes, but her shoulders, too, her wrists. It bothers her that she doesn’t mind it so much. She can’t remember the last time she really had to take care of Mulder.

“Are you alright?” she runs her hand through his hair. She misses that, too. He looks up at her, startled, but quickly molds his face into something more neutral.

“Just not feeling well, Scully.”

She doesn’t press. She’s too doubtful of her place in Mulder’s life too often, these days. But she does let him cling. She softens her voice when she speaks to him. She doesn’t brush him off, she let’s go of all of the hurt, at least for the day. He seems more than grateful for it, almost to the point of awe. It bothers her… that she doesn’t mind it so much. That she needs to be needed like this.

At the end of the day, they’re putting on their coats. Their quiet is easy and Mulder, for the most part, appears recuperated. He drapes her in her wool, like always, keeps his hands on her for a little longer than necessary. She waits for him while he slips into his suit jacket, figuring they might as well ride out together.

“I was thinking… about those prints they lifted from the victim’s car. There’s something off about the sebaceous composition. The lab says they’ve never seen it before.” She lets him lead her to her car in the bustling garage, handing out her peace offering without the hint of a smile.  “Why don’t you come over and explain to me why that means it couldn’t possibly be terrestrial in nature?”

His face lights up. God, damn him. She feels like she’s been kicking a puppy in the same tender spots for months and months. “Scully, I thought you’d never ask.” He reaches into his pocket for his own keys. “I’ll bring pizza. You still eat that, right? If you think I’m going to argue with a Dana Scully fueled on nothing but coffee and granola – shit.” Not paying attention, his keys fall to the ground with a metal splatter.

“Here, let me – “ she bends down to scoop them up, but freezes when her eyes hit the concrete.

That dark, primordial filth inside of her, the rigid tension in her protoplasm. She blacks out, like she always does. In these moments she only has the capacity to feel everything wrong. She slowly picks up the keys, and the empty condom wrapper along with it.

“Scully,” Mulder says. “Scully.”

He uses too many words. The details of an event write themselves on his face so plainly. In ruined seconds she pieces out, from his guilty, avoidant eyes and the slowness with which he forms his thoughts, what happened, who it happened with. A full case report with only a mental photograph. Her grip around the keys and wrapper tightens, but he won’t take them from her. So she lets them fall back on the floor.

She never remembers what it’s like to hate someone this much. What inspires a woman to run her lover over with her car, empty out her gun into his heart, play in the meat left over. She’s in her car before she knows it, yanking the door out of his hands with less force than she meant for. In that moment, she doesn’t miss him.

BTS Reaction - Pulling away


Jin’s practically shaking with laughter as he tells you his anecdote, wiping tears from the corners of his eyes, but really, you’re only half-listening.

“And then Kookie, he said-”  Jin cuts himself short when he looks at you from across the table, his eyebrows starting to pull downward into a frown as he realises how little you’re actually paying attention.  Usually you’d be laughing along with him - you’ve got the same lame sense of humour he does, and he loves you for it - but tonight you’re just staring at your plate, poking at your food, and it’s starting to unsettle him.  “Jagi, is everything ok?”  

“Hm?” you ask distractedly, only glancing up at him for a moment before your eyes drop once more.  

“Don’t you like it?”  

“It’s fine, Jin, I’m just… I’ve just gone off fish a little lately,” you tell him.  It’s a lame excuse, but you’d rather tell him that than tell him the truth - tell him that the reason you can’t eat is because you feel so nauseous with anxiety that you might throw up if you eat anymore.  

“Ah, it’s a good job I made your favourite dessert then!” he says enthusiastically, getting up from the table and whisking your still-full plate out from in front of you to take it to the kitchen.  “Can’t have you going hungry.”  

God, why does he have to be so sweet all the time?  So god damn perfect?  It’ll only make it feel so much worse when it eventually falls apart - and you know it will, because when you’re involved everything always does.  It’s inevitable.  

“You know what, I think I might just go home,” you say quickly, before he’s even managed to pull on his gloves to take out the apple pie you can smell cooking in the oven.  He falters, coming to a standstill between the kitchen counters, and when you finally bring yourself to look at him it makes your heart thud painfully.  “I don’t feel too good.”  

“Ok, let me drive you-”

“It’s fine, I’ll get a cab.”  If you say ‘it’s fine’ one more time this evening you think you might punch yourself in the face.  It’s not fine, nothing is, but you know it’s best you pull away a little now, before you both get in too deep. At least it might help to soften the blow.  

“Ok….” you hear him mumble as he turns off the oven and you pull on your coat.  He walks you to the door, and now it’s him that can’t look at you.  “Hope you feel better soon.”  


“See you soon?”

“See you soon,” you reply, and it feels like a goodbye.   

Originally posted by lavender-kills


“So I was thinking; there’s a new Mexican place that’s opened,” Yoongi tells you, his voice sounding even lower than usual over the phone after he’s clearly just woken up.  “You wanna go check it out sometime?”

“Hm… I dunno,” you mumble, rolling over in bed, your cell smushed between your ear and the pillow.  

“C’mon, their churros are supposed to be the shit.”  Despite yourself, you end up smiling at Yoongi’s words.  You wish you hadn’t though.  That momentary flicker of happiness now just makes you feel all the more miserable as you stare at the picture of Yoongi and you you’ve got pinned to your bedside cabinet.  

“I don’t really like Mexican food…”  You’re trying so hard to find an excuse not to make plans, to avoid seeing him for a little while.  It’s not that you don’t care about Yoongi.  Jesus, you most definitely do - but therein lies the problem.  It’s starting to feel scary now, how close you’re becoming.  You’re seeing each other too often, he’s texting you every day, and it feels wrong now if you go to sleep without hearing him say goodnight.  This growing dependency on him, this vulnerability; it’s terrifying.  

“Since when?” he scoffs, and all you can do in reply is sigh.  There’s a silence on the other end of the line, and in the end you have to roll away from that picture of the two of you that you love so much.  His eyes are too penetrating, too perceptive, even in a frozen image.  “What about chinese then?  You love chinese.”   He’s right, you do, and there’s no way you can deny that - not when the last time you went you ended up stuffing your face so much that he had to nurse you with a bad belly for the rest of the night.  

“Can I maybe just take a raincheck?  I’ve got so much work to do, Yoongi, and I’m sure you’re busy too.”  

There’s silence again but this time it feels uncomfortable, and it’s making you fidget even without being able to see the frosty expression you know he’ll be wearing right now.  

“You think I don’t know what you’re doing, Noona?  I’ve done it enough times myself to know when someone’s holding back.”  You swallow hard, staring at the wall and starting to chew your thumbnail nervously.  What are you supposed to say when he’s called you out like that; made you feel like the idiot you know you are?

He gives you an adequate amount of time to reply, to turn back from this road you’re travelling down, but when no response comes you hear him sigh, even his voice turning cold when his next words travel into your ears.  

“Either call me when you’re ready to get real, or don’t bother calling me at all.”  

Originally posted by minshoot


“Ah, babygirl, that was amazing.”  Hobi’s still panting from exertion as he lies next to you, staring at the ceiling with the goofiest of grins on his faces.  He’s always like this after you’ve had sex, always deliriously happy, like every time you do it is his first time, and you know what’s coming next.  

He rolls onto his side, grabbing the sheet and pulling it up to cover your naked, sticky bodies and then snuggling closer, slinging his arm over his hip and pulling you close, sweat be damned.  He always gets so affectionate too, so tactile when he’s dosed up on oxytocin, and though at first you loved it, lately it’s become nothing but a source of anxiety to you.  It’d be fine if cuddling was all it was, but it’s not just that.  No, Hobi insists on lying there staring at you like you’re his everything, his entire world, his eyes taking in every little of your face until you end up laughing and batting him away, telling him to stop being such a freak.  

You don’t want him to look at you like that and nor do you want to be placed on his pedestal; not when you know it’ll make your inevitable fall from grace so much higher and more painful.   You don’t deserve all these loving looks and touches, not when you’re going to break his heart.  Though you don’t yet know how it’ll happen yet you know it will, because it’s just what you do.  

“I wish we could do this all day, every day,” he says wistfully, reaching up to thumb your cheek, staring back into your eyes.  You try to diffuse things with humour, rolling your eyes and pushing his hand away from your face, trying to ignore the way hurt flickers across his face.  

“That’s ‘cus you’re a horny bastard, Hobi.”  You sit up to put some distance between you, running your fingers through your hair to try and put it right.  Of course, he then sits up too, smoothing out the part of your hair at the back you can’t see to fix with his gentle hands.   

“Not just for that,” he persists, smiling cheekily, “I just like having you here, sex or no sex.  C’mon, wouldn’t you love to wake up to this face every morning?”   

“I guess,” you answer non-committedly, trying not to let your mind even hope to dream of your life ever being so wonderful.  You need to get out of here, before he starts dangling more perfect happy-ever-afters in front of your face, lies that you know will never come true.  Finding your underwear you start to get dressed, avoiding the questioning look in Hobi’s eyes.

“I thought you didn’t have to work today?”

“Yeah…” You pull your sweater on, glad that it hides your face, even for just a second.  “But I’ve got a lot I need to get done so…”  

“I’d kind of… I mean I’d planned on us having the whole day together…” he says quietly, unable to hide the disappointment and confusion on his face.  “If I’d known you were gonna go so soon I wouldn’t have-”

“Don’t worry, Hobi, it was fun.” You slip your feet into your shoes, practically running to his bedroom door as soon as they’re on, forcing a false smile on your face.  “I had fun.”  Fun, that’s all it is… it’s all it was ever supposed to be.  You weren’t supposed to end up liking him, needing him, lovin- “Let me know next time you wanna hook up.”  

“Hook up,” he repeats, his voice breaking.  Hobi looks like you’ve just plunged a knife straight into his heart, and though it breaks your own to see him in so much pain, you know it’s for the best.  Better now, rather than later.  “Right… sure.”  

Originally posted by jhopetal


“So… what do you think?”  

What do you think?  You think the song you just heard was amazing; one of the best Namjoon’s ever written, and that’s saying a lot when he’s so ridiculously talented to begin with.  You’re stunned, dumbstruck by the fact he’d write such beautiful lyrics about you, for you, and if you were a better person you’d probably start to cry with joy that your boyfriend wants to tell the world just how much you mean to him.  

But you’re not a good person, not like him, not even close, so instead of telling Namjoon how proud you are of him, how much you’ve come to love him, you say anything you can think of to drive a wedge between you.

“I don’t think you should put it on the album,” you say blankly, trying to keep your face impassive as you look back into his hopeful eyes.  “I don’t think the executives would be happy with it.”  His face falls, eyebrows knitting together as he tries to fathom you’re unexpected response.  You see his jaw clench, and you know he’s trying so hard to brace himself for whatever constructive criticism he thinks is coming.  It’s taken a long time for him to learn to do that so graciously; yet another skill he’s mastered.

“You don’t like it?  I know the bridge needs some work, but I can fix-”

“The song’s fine, Joonie,” you interrupt, making him pause mid-swivel in his chair to turn back to you rather than his desk.  “I just don’t think it’s a good idea.  ARMY won’t like you shoving your love-life in their faces - they want you guys permanently single so they can keep all their little fantasies about you.” Namjoon seems stunned into silence for a moment, and honestly, you’re a little impressed at just how reasonable your argument sounds too.  Cold, yes, but logical.  Surely with his big brain Namjoon should be happy enough accept your reasoning and let it lie?  

He’s quiet for a long while, face pensive until he finally get up out of his chair and comes to sit beside you, taking your hand.

“I don’t care.  We’ve always been able to write write the music we want… how we want it.  And the fans want us to be happy.”  Well… how do you argue with that?  He sits stroking the back of your hand with his thumb while he waits for you to say something, and now your mind has gone blank, unable to think of anything to say that won’t just sound harsh or cruel.  

“You might be happy to tell the world about us, Joonie but… I’m not.”  Harsh it is then.  You take your hand back, clamping both of them between your legs as you look to the floor, avoiding the hurt in his eyes.  “We never said this was going to be anything serious.”

“I see.”  His voice is tight, controlled as he speaks, suddenly sitting up straighter. He waits for a second, perhaps to see if you’ll sat any more, take it all back, but when you don’t he simply returns to his desk, facing the screen like you’re not even there.  “You may as well go home… I’m gonna be up all night trying to re-write this.”  

Originally posted by chimchams


Your phone goes off for what feels like the hundredth time today, an unpleasantly harsh trill that shrieks through your otherwise quiet apartment, and once again you have to fight the urge to look, to read the text you know is waiting for you there.  If you look you’re more likely to reply, and you’re trying so, so hard to give yourself some space, to put some distance between you and the man you’re getting far too close to.  

You know what it’ll say anyway, more or less.  It’ll be Jimin being his usual sweet self, asking if you’re ok, asking you to please, please get back to him.  Why aren’t you replying?  Are you sure you’re ok?  Do you need him to come over?  Why are you so quiet?  It’s killing you. Every time your phone goes off it feels like a punch to the gut, because you do so desperately want to reply.  But you can’t, you mustn’t.  You’ve gotten too attached to him, too attached to this perfect boy whom all the girls want to touch.

You’re not stupid.  You’ve seen his fan-pages, you’ve seen the things they say about him.  And it’s not like you can blame them, but you’re too insecure to deal with having a boyfriend who’s wanted by so many.  You’ve been cheated on once before, and it’ll only be a matter of time before Jimin realises he’s too good for you and does the same; finds another girl who’s prettier and thinner and more interesting than you.  It’s better for you to protect yourself now, to pull away while you still can, before it’s too late.  

So you ignore his messages even as tears roll down your cheeks, lying on the sofa and holding yourself, just waiting for it to stop hurting so much.  Time passes, although you don’t keep track of how much; all you know is that eventually it goes dark outside, and your tired eyes are just starting to droop when all of a sudden your doorbell rings, jolting you awake again.  

You shuffle your way over to the door, half-asleep and wrapped in your blanket, pulling it open before you think to look through the spy-hole to check who it is.  Of course it would be Jimin standing there to see you looking like this, like the mess that you are, his eyes widening as he takes in your bloodshot eyes.

“Oh baby… baby, what’s wrong?” He steps inside before you can stop him, wrapping you up in his arms over the top of your blanket, pulling your head into the crook of his neck.  

You don’t want this, or at least for second you try to tell yourself that you don’t… but it’s just no use.  Relenting, you let yourself be held by him, inhaling the scent of his aftershave that’s become synonymous with happiness and giving yourself over to it all, at least for now.  You let him kiss you with your face in his hands, let him promise you that he’ll make it all ok, and you let yourself believe in this lie, just for a little while longer.  

“You know I love you… Whatever it is, baby, we’ll fix it… I love you,” he tells you over and over, his face pressed into your hair and all you can do is cry because you know you love him too, and you know it’ll never be enough.  

Originally posted by sosjimin


“Tae, Tae, stop it!” you giggle, trying your best to throw him off whilst ensuring you’re clenching your pelvic floor as hard as you possibly can; he’s be tickling you for what feels like forever now, and you’ll be damned if you give him the satisfaction of peeing yourself for him to tease you about that too.  

“Not until you call me Oppa!” he shouts back, sat on your stomach, his bony fingers digging into your ribs as he grins down at you.  He’s such a masochist - you know he’s getting off on this really, watching you squirm and struggle.

“You’re like one month older than me, weirdo!”

“Op-pa!” he persists, accentuating every syllable, his eyes narrowing when you shake your head.  His fingertips start to creep towards your armpits, your weakest spot, and no matter how hard you try to push his hands away he’s just too strong.  You barely make it ten seconds before you’re shouting ‘oppa’ over and over again, tears streaming from your eyes, just wanting it to end.  Finally, he relents, sitting up with a satisfied smirk on his face.

That’s when you chose your moment to strike.  You reach out to twist his nipples through his shirt, grinning wickedly, but before you can do anything Taehyung’s grabbed both your wrists and pinning them above your head, growling like an animal.  A beat passes where you just look at each other, both out of breath, and then you’re laughing again, in hysterics as you so often are when you’re together, only stopping when Taehyung eagerly crashes his lips against yours.

You expect the kiss to become more passionate, if anything, so you’re surprised when it gets softer, Tae letting go of your wrists to stroke his hands gently through your hair and down onto your face.  When he pulls away, still rubbing his thumbs along your cheeks, there’s something shining in his eyes that you’ve never seen from him before, some emotion that until now has been unknown.  You know exactly what it is though, you know because it’s exactly the same thing you can feel swelling in your own chest.  

He opens his mouth to speak, and that’s when you panic.  You’re not ready to hear those words again, and you’re certainly not ready to say them again.  Not after last time, not after what happened when-

You sit up abruptly, pushing him off you and hurrying to stand, grabbing your jacket from the sofa to leave before Taehyung snatches it back from your hand after having stood up almost as quickly as you.  He look so confused, his mouth hanging open, head tilted to the side as he tries to make sense of your sudden and unexpected change in behaviour.


“Just don’t say it, Tae,” you snap, snatching your jacket back but just holding it there by your side, fist clenched, “I don’t want to hear it, ok?  Don’t say it, because you can’t take it back.”  

“Jagiya…” he whispers softly, his eyes starting to mist over with moisture, chin practically trembling as you flinch away from the touch of his hand.  

“Just… just leave it, please?”  You sound like you’re begging, on the verge of tears now too, and before he can try to reach out to you again you run from his apartment, leaving Taehyung to dissolve into tears, wondering how on earth it all suddenly went so wrong.  

Originally posted by jjks


He’s been getting possessive lately - it’s all too obvious for anyone who looks to see.  Every time you hang out with the rest of the group he keeps getting all… handsy.  Not in an inappropriate way or anything, but any time you’re talking to another guy he’ll just casually wrap his arm around your waist or lay it across your shoulder, like he’s subtly marking his territory.

You’re sure other girls wouldn’t mind.  They’d probably love to have someone like Jungkook lay his claim on them, thrilled to be considered such a prize worth protecting, but when he does it to you all you can think about is your ex-boyfriend and how he used to be exactly the same. Jealous, possessive, irrational, constantly accusing you of cheating even though he was the one that was fucking your best friend behind your back.  Ex-best friend, should you say.  

There’s a lot of ex’s in your past, for one reason or another, and that’s why after a few dates you’re still resisting Jungkook’s attempts to make the two of you into something more.  You can do without another ex to add to your list, thank you very much, no matter how much you can feel him getting under your skin with each and every day that passes.  That’s just another reason why you want to keep him at arm’s length - you can’t afford to let yourself be vulnerable.  Not again.  You’re not letting anyone hurt you like that ever again.  

Jungkook seems to be feeling particularly threatened today, though you’re not entirely sure why.  Perhaps it’s because of the skirt you’re wearing, or maybe it’s the way Yoongi keeps looking at you from across the room, but either way it’s starting to get your back up.  He doesn’t own you, and it’s the desire to show Jungkook exactly that that eventually drives you across to the other side of the studio to sit down next to Yoongi, smiling like a cheshire cat.  

You can feel his eyes on you the moment you strike up a conversation, eyes that you pointedly ignore, choosing instead to act like everything Yoongi says is the funniest thing you’ve ever heard.  You lean your body into his, leaning your head on his shoulder as you laugh, placing your hand on his thigh and leaving it to linger there far longer than necessary.  Yoongi’s loving every second of it, lapping it up until Jungkook finally snaps and comes striding over, trying to look casual and failing miserably at doing so.

“Namjoon wants you,” he tells Yoongi, not even looking at his elder as he says it.  No, his eyes are fixed on you, full of both anger and hurt, and the moment Yoongi gets up with a groan Jungkook is taking his spot, flopping down at your side.  You see him tick his head to the side, clenching his jaw in the silence that follows, and find yourself smiling before you can help it at his adorable habit.  

God damn it, you really need to put a stop to this now, before you get even more attached than you already are.  

“Why were you acting like that?” he asks after a moment, once he’s sure the rest of his friends are sufficiently preoccupied.

“Acting like what?” you reply, sounding as innocent as possible, and you know it’s pissing him off because his jaw clenches again, his hands balling into fists and relaxing again where they hang over his knees.

“Flirting with Yoongi like that.  You were all over him.”  

“So?” you blurt out, only realising after you’ve already said it just how cold and callous you sound.  Jungkook actually looks taken aback when you turn your head to the side to look at him, his usually soft, doe eyes widened in confusion, no anger left to see.  

“So…?” he repeats quietly.  You stare him out, trying not to flinch at the sharp feeling of guilt that stabs through you when he falters first, turning his head with a shake and looking to the ground, swallowing against the lump you can guess that’s forming in his throat.  “I thought…”

“We’ve been on like… what… four dates, Jungkook?”  You sound condescending and cruel, and you hate yourself for it.  What a heartless bitch those exs have turned you into, huh?  “You can’t tell me you thought it was serious?”  

Originally posted by jayfatuasian

anonymous asked:

Hey there! First off I love your writing style. Could you write a wolfstar where Sirius asks out Remus to the yule ball? <3

Sirius had to admit it, Remus looked absolutely adorable all cuddled up in an armchair reading some muggle book. He wondered how long he fancied his friend and why he’d never done anything about it. Remus looked up when he felt him staring.

“What is it, Pads. Is there something on my face?” He guessed, wiping his face.

Sirius shook his head. “No, no. I was just thinking.”

“About what?” He got up and sat next to Sirius on the couch. Sirius looked at him intently, as if studying every freckle and scar. Then he shook his head. What was wrong with him? He’d flirted with loads of people before, but he was never this nervous. He stared into his friend’s light brown eyes and decided to go for it.

“H- has anyone asked you to the ball yet?”

Remus shook his head. “Who would want to go to the ball with me?”

“Who wouldn’t wanna go to the ball with you?”

Remus gave him a small smile. “I mean, my face is all scarred, I’m too skinny, I can barely hold a conversation…” he trailed off.

Sirius shook his head. “Moony, how could you even say any of that? You always have something interesting to say. And I think you’re scars are cool.” He said, trailing a finger along a small scar that ran to the top of his lip. Remus’s breath hitched. They were caught in a trance until James sauntered into the room.

“Hey, Moony. Pads.” He placed himself in between the two boys, who were both blushing slightly. “Padfoot, have you asked anyone to the ball yet?”

“I was going to.” Sirius muttered irritably.

James looked confused then turned to Remus. “What about you, Moony.” Remus was staring at his hands and shook his head. Something finally clicked in James’s brain. “Oh, okay. I’m gonna go. I forgot I told Lily I’d meet up with her.” He got up and left, winking at Sirius.

The boys looked at each other again, not daring to move any closer. “S- so who were you planning on asking to the ball?” Remus asked. Sirius hesitated for a moment, all his confidence from before was gone. Dammit, Prongs. “Is she in Gryffindor?”

“He actually. And yeah he’s a Gryffindor.”

“Okay, is he in our year?” Sirius nodded, playing with his hair so he didn’t have to look at Remus. “Is it Wormtail?”

Sirius chuckled. “No, it’s not Wormtail.” Remus grinned lightly, making Sirius’s heart leap. He stood up and summoned some courage. “Moony, do you want to go to the ball with me?” Sirius watched as Remus’s face broke out into the biggest smiles he’d ever seen on the boy. He jumped up and hugged Sirius tightly. “I’m taking that as a yes.”

Remus chuckled and stared into Sirius’s eyes when James came running out from behind the corner. “My best friends are going to the ball together!” He looked very emotional as he pulled them both into a hug.

“Prongsy, you’re suffocating me.” Remus choked out. Sirius looked around to make sure there was no one in the common room before transforming into his animagus form. “That’s not fair! I can’t do that!”

Padfoot barked happily as he ran around the room. James let go of Remus and Padfoot ran back to them. He stood on his hind legs and pushed his date to the ball back onto the couch then hopped up and began licking his face. “Pads!” He exclaimed as he tried to push the dog off off him. Sirius transformed back and kissed him once last time on the cheek.

all but washed in the tide of her breathing

Ok so blame @the-pontiac-bandit for this entirely. And giant thank you to @elsaclack for reading this after I convinced myself it was garbage.

Jake’s never prayed in a hospital hallway before. He’s seen plenty of people doing it, sometimes on tv, sometimes on an average day in his job. It’s always sickened him a little, stuck with him, caught in his thoughts, the fact that watching someone praying that they don’t lose their whole world is just another day at work for him. It must be worse for the doctors and nurses, he guesses, the people on the very front lines between life and death. The memory that’s sticking in his mind, right now, on the hospital floor, is the man who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time with his family.

He remembers it sharply, acutely, agonisingly, even though it was years ago now, and memories from the days before that one are faded, time-bleached. The man had paced the floor for two hours, the whole time Jake had been here with his old partner. His eyes had been wild, his lips graced with whispered curse words, prayers, spit-flecked bargains, and blood had been running down his arms from his neck wound. But that hadn’t mattered to the man. Oliver Lawson. His name had been Oliver Lawson. And once those two hours had been up, a doctor and two nurses had approached him with certain looks in their eyes, looks that Jake didn’t have a name for. Looks that Oliver understood instantly, like the half-madness of terror and grief had taught him a new language, taught him to understand what each individual crease on someone’s face meant. Oliver had crumpled to the ground, screaming a sound that Jake never knew humans could make. Through being in the wrong place at the wrong time, Oliver Lawson’s wife and two daughters had been lost to him forever.

Jake wonders, from the cold hospital floor, knees drawn to his chest, where Oliver is now. Whether he still replays that day over and over in his head. Because if this goes the way that Jake has convinced himself it’s going to, he can’t see himself ever leaving this day, not really. His body might carry on (or actually, it might stay here on the pale blue tiles forever), but his brain will live right here. It will analyse every single thing that’s happened since they woke up this morning, wondering what he could have done differently. It will rewind to her excited, apprehensive smile. To her, ‘the baby’s coming. She’s coming.’

A hand find Jake’s shoulder, and he snaps his attention to the faces in front of him. They’re not doctors, or nurses, not angels, not some deity come down to say they’re sorry. It’s Captain Holt and Rosa, crouched in front of him, hands on his shoulder. Rosa’s face is stony, determined, brow furrowed, jaw set. Captain Holt’s is sombre, readable for once. For a split, blood-turns-to-ice second, Jake’s convinced that they’re here to tell him. That they’re here because the nurses couldn’t face him, so they’re making his friends tell him instead. They’re only here because Amy went into labour whilst Jake was at work, only here because he announced to the whole precinct that he was gonna be a dad real soon. Only here because everyone swung by once the night shift took over, because they were excited too.

“Did she-?” Jake can’t finish the sentence, can’t even wrap his tongue around the words properly. They splutter and falter in his mouth, the taste of them making him feel sick.

“We haven’t heard yet, son,” Captain Holt tells him, squeezing his shoulder.

“Come sit down,” Rosa reaches for his hand, nodding in the direction of the waiting area.

“I can’t.” They don’t get it. He’s sitting right outside of the doors of the hallway that leads to the operating theatre. If he sits right here, if he keeps wishing and praying and listening, something’s got to work.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

I'm asking for advice. My ex and I are both ace, but she is touch-repulsed and hates kissing/cuddling/holding hands, pretty much any touching that has affectionate intent. I need physical affection from people and she wasn't willing to negotiate any kind of compromise. I completely respect that line, but it meant my needs weren't being met (or even open for discussion, really), and she accused me of not really being ace, which. Did not feel great. So I decided I needed to break up with her (1)

(2)so I could find someone I was more compatible with, but I feel fucking awful about myself because the breakup was nasty. Like. She was so upset, and said I was breaking up with her because she’s ace and I was an asshole for lying about being ace to manipulate her into a relationship and then pressuring her to give me what I wanted. And I of course got upset because that was never my intent, and I can’t tell if she was right and I was coercive, or if I was fair in how I handled things…

(3)I feel crazy and even though I know I’m ace I find myself questioning that too because of what she said. Just. I’m sorry for sort of venting in a long message, but if you have any advice about relationship negotiation with aces and how to tell if you’re being abusive, that’d be great.

Well, she was definitely wrong to disrespect your ace identity. Both of you had to deal with some pretty complicated stuff.

Touch-repulsion is not solely associated with being aspec. In fact, its more commonly heard within neurodivergent/disabled communities. Having different touch preferences is what many couples have to deal with. In my eyes, this was a case of opposing preferences for private spaces, and not at all a situation where one ‘lied’ about their ace identity. She had every right to uphold her private space, but her accusations were definitely not appropriate.  

All couples have their own, extended conversations on how to make things work. And sometimes it just doesn’t pan out, and the relationship ends. But these issues are so complicated, the break-up might not have been due to the issue, but because one person uttered a bad choice of words, or perhaps it was a bad day and therefore the conversation couldn’t help but turn sour.

Don’t take it so hard. Everything you did was justified, even if things didn’t end the way you wished.

- Fae

mmishaya  asked:

“I can’t remember the last time I was this happy.” Blupjeans


I cried like three times while writing this. Blupjeans is just too good.

Barry was made to hold her.

It’s just a passing thought but the longer it sticks in her head, the more Lup finds it to be the irrevocable truth. Barry’s arms, thick and little  long for his body fit around her shoulders perfectly.There’s a notch over his heart where her head was always meant to be. Whatever force stitched Barry J Bluejeans together had done so knowing that one day Lup would come along and fill that her shaped space in the soft curve of his body. And as this absolute truth becomes clear to her,  laying in his embrace while they stare up at yet another unfamiliar sky, Lup realizes she was made for Barry too.

His hands find the groves on her hips meant for him every time without fail. His chin slots into the juncture of her neck like the clasp on a locket, Lup knows for certain that she’s not going anywhere. They were made to fill the little spaces in each other like gears are made to fit together in a clock. Inexplicably connected.

Lup tightens her arm around his belly a squeeze with all her might. She’s was always meant to be here, right here, forever.

Barry brings their joined hands to his lips and kisses the backs of her fingers. “Looks like I was wrong.” he mutters.

“Again” she corrects, burying her face in his shoulder. Barry smells like whisky and Lup’s favorite lemon scented floor cleaner. “But what are you wrong about this time specifically, babe.”

Calloused fingers stroke back her hair. “I always think- ‘this is it, I’ll never be able to love her more then I love her right now’- but you proven me wrong once again.” Barry mutters. She lifts her head from its home in his shoulder to look at him. The moon is reflected twice in his glasses and his eyes are full of stars. “You fill me up with so much Lup, more- anything than I ever thought was possible to feel. I’ve never been this happy before.” he kisses her hand again. “I’ve never been this in love before.” he kisses her cheek, teasingly close to the corner of her mouth. Lup thinks she’s going to burst into a pile of warm, wet goo on the ground. She has to do something with the happy heat rising in her chest before she explodes.

“I love you Barry” She sighs and the words come out. Easy, so easy, always easy. “I love you so fucking much”

Barry doesn’t squeeze her hard enough to break her. No-  Barry was made to hold her just like this. Both of them with heart swelling in their chests and fingers interwoven between them. The spaces between their fingers couldn’t possibly hold any one else.

Barry beams at her. “I think I’d like to kiss you now” he growls, and Lup throws her head back and laughs.
“I think I’d like that.”

Her hand is so warm

Falling for Barry was so easy. Lup never knew that love this passionate and free was out there. A love like this-it’s worth protecting. It’s worth fighting for, everyday, forever.

Lup will never forget the feeling of their hands clasped tight like this, or the feeling of his mouth on her own.

She’ll fight. God, will she fight. She will never stop fighting for the heat between their fingers.

awesomelissawho  asked:

If your still taking ideas maybe the dialogue "You are loved." And "I'll do whatever it takes to make you happy." From the dialogue prompts you posted. Polyamsanders is the preference but if that makes you uncomfortable i also love Prinxiety and Logicality Only if you want to I'd course don't force yourself. Also I've heard life's hard. I'm sorry about that fam and if it means anything your one of my fave authors in the fandom!

“You are loved.”


I’m sorry this and the other three have taken so long. I dont have an excuse I’m just useless. Also I love polysanders. It’s okay, I hope my day off will help that and im glad you like my writing!!! Trigger warning: self harm and self hatred


“I think we should break up,” Virgil blurts out, their all sitting at the table when he says it. All of their heads snap up.

“Well I mean I think you all should break up with me not like we all should break up, it’s just about me,” Virgil rambles panicking.

“Wh-why?” Patton asked eyes wide and filled with tears, “Did we-did we do something?”

“No, it’s- it’s me. You did-you didn’t do anything wrong. I prom- I promise,” he said spitting it out in a rapid fire panicked way.

“Can you tell us what changed?” Logan asked calmly getting up from the table and kneeling in front of Virgil, gently taking his hands.

“Nothing,” Virgil said jerking his hands away, “I never deserved you, I just need to stop being selfish about it.

“What do you mean?” Roman asked getting up and going to stand next to Logan.

Virgil pushed his chair back, “Stop I don’t- I don’t stop please,” he said scrambling so frantically back that he almost tipped the chair.

Logan stood and took a step back, “Okay look, were not going to crowd you. It’s okay,” Logan said holding his hands up.

Virgil got up and scrambled to his room. Patton stood as if to follow.

“Wait,” Logan said taking his hand to stop him from going.

“He doesn’t think he deserves us,” Patton says.

“I know,” Logan says.

“Then how can you not let me go,” Patton said trying to sound angry but just coming out sad, scared, broken.

“He needs space,” Logan said.

“Spectacles is right,” Roman said, “We got too close and he panicked, ran, if we go now we will just drive him further. We will go to him, comfort him, later but right now he needs space. He needs us to give him space.”

Patton just looked on wide eyed and frightened, “I don’t know what to do.”

“It’s okay well figure this out together. None of us are alone in this,” Roman said.

Patton let out a broken sob and wrapped his arms around himself.

“Oh honey,” Roman said gently picking him up. Patton wrapped his arms around his neck, his legs around his waist, and buried his face in the side of his neck sobbing and clinging to roman like his life depended on it, “It’s okay. Well figure this out,” Logan was gently rubbing his back and trying to soothe him the best he could.

“Let’s go to bed dear, we shall deal with it in the morning,” Logan said.

“Okay,” Patton said sniffling nodding into Patton’s neck.


Virgil sprinted back to his room barely closing and locking the door before collapsing next to his bed. He didn’t deserve them, he thought his mind racing. He deserved to be alone and unloved. He didn’t deserve beautiful, bright Patton who had a smile who lit up the entire room. He didn’t deserve Logan who was smart and kind and not the best with feelings but he always knew how to help Virgil, what facts to use to help him calm down. He didn’t deserve Roman with his heart of gold and ability to make Virgil feel safe in a way no one else was able too. He didn’t deserve them. He thought as he dug his nails deeper into his skin.


The next morning, they woke up in the neutral room Patton was the first awake and the fact that Virgil wasn’t there hit him like a freight train a broken sob left his mouth. He slammed his hand over his mouth and sobbed into his hand trying not to wake the others. He crawled out of the bottom of the bed so he didn’t wake up the two men to his left and right. In that moment he made a decision. He stood off the floor and headed to Virgil’s room.


Virgil hadn’t slept, anytime he closed his eyes he saw the hurt and betrayed looks on the other sides faces. He couldn’t get the image of Patton crying out of his head. What had he done? He had makeup streaks down his face and his face was puffy. He had long bloody streaks on his arms and his fingernails were caked in blood. He was hurt and sad and he felt so alone. He regretted doing it, he wishes he had just been selfish and stayed. He wished they would hold him and comfort him but he had ruined that, just like he ruined everything. He sobbed barely breathing chest convulsing, thoughts flying rapidly around the room.

Suddenly someone banged on my door, “Virgil let me in.”

“Go away Patton,” Virgil said voice shaking.

“I’ll sink in if I have too. Open the door,” Patton said half begging half demanding.

Virgil drug himself up and opened the door half hidden behind it hiding his arms, knowing Patton would feel guilty.

Patton was having none of it and he shoved open the door almost knocking Virgil over before declaring, “You are loved.”

“W-what?” Virgil stuttered.

“We love you. I don’t care if you think you’re being selfish or whatever you have convinced yourself you are doing because we love you. This isn’t pity or fear that you’ll leave Thomas or whatever you think it is because we love you. So, if you want out because you want out and not because you think you don’t deserve us or that well be better off without you then we’ll respect that but if you’re leaving to help us or whatever then stop because that isn’t what it will do. We love you, we care about you. We want you around so I’m going to ask once and then I will respect it. Do you want to break up with us because you want too?”

“No,” it came out broken and strangled and he practically collapsed into Patton’s arms when he said it sobbing and clinging to Patton. Patton held him and rocked them both stroking his back gently and making soft soothing noises through his tears.

“It will be okay, Verge. It will all be okay,” Patton murmured scooping him up already feeling the room affecting him and carrying him to hall. He shut the door and sat on the floor putting Virgil in his lap. He held onto him as Virgil grabbed fistfuls of his shirt and sobbed just repeating he was sorry over and over again.

Patton looked up when a hand landed on his shoulder. Logan sat across from Patton their knees touching and reached out to take Virgil. Patton slowly began to take Virgil’s hands off his shirt so he could hand him over to Logan.

Virgil panicked the minute Patton started to pull away, “I’m sorry don’t leave. I’m sorry,” he scrambled to grab at Patton.

Logan took him quickly, “Virgil, Virgil calm down its okay,” He said stroking his hair, “Patton’s just going to get Roman. It is okay we are not leaving you it’s okay Virgil. Just try to breathe,” Logan said rocking him.

“I’m sorry,” Virgil said breathing stuttered.

“I know love, do you want to go to the neutral room with Patton and Roman, instead of them coming here,” Logan asked calmly. Virgil nodded burying his face in Logan’s chest. Logan picked him up and carried him to where Patton and Roman were talking. They both stopped when the two entered the room.

“We figured it would be best if we come here,” Logan explained as he set Virgil on the bed.

He slid away from them before saying, “Are you mad at me?”

The others are shocked and Roman is the first to speak sliding up to Virgil’s side and placing an arm around his waist, “We aren’t mad love.”

“I would be,” Virgil said.

“You were scared and had decided that it would be best if you left none of us can blame you for what you are the embodiment of,” Logan said sitting on the other side of Virgil and placing his arm around his shoulder.

“We care about you Virgil,” Patton said kneeling behind him and draping his arms over his shoulder and pressing his front to Virgil’s back, “We won’t be angry for this”

“Thank you,” Virgil said practically melting into their touch, “I love you guys so much.”

time || merkel

description: in which time is his greatest enemy

warnings: violence, blood and injury, death, PAIN

notes: finally got around watching atomic blonde lmao. that’s what birthed this story. this is rather short, but i was wide awake at 2 am and in the mood to write something painful. 

Something was wrong. Terribly, horribly wrong. 

He could feel it wrench in his gut, sending an awful wave of nausea rushing through him. His bright eyes flickered about, searching every face that rushed past, hoping one of them was yours. 

But they were all bleak, sullen faces. None of them were bright or jubilant like yours was. This only worsened his anxiety, his chest tightening painfully. He could not face the fact that something might’ve happened to you. And he most certainly couldn’t stomach the thought of you lying dead somewhere. No, he would not believe it. 

But then there was a glimmer of life, a flood of knee buckling relief, for his eyes had finally landed on the prize: you. 

Keep reading


Donna Emerson: I wanted to thank you guys for coming out tonight…. “You guys.” See what we’re up against? When I graduated from Berkeley in ‘75 with a degree in computer science, nobody batted an eye. That’s probably because back then, coders were like secretaries and engineers, meaning little solder soldiers on the assembly lines, were kind of invisible. And we’re used to that. But somewhere along the line, these jobs became important. And don’t get me wrong, I’m happy to hang out with “you guys” any time and eat good food, but I hope that by the time my daughters are my age that they don’t have to have gatherings like this anymore to remind themselves that they’re actually here.

I’ve been in tech for 18 years. I’ve won. And I’ve lost. I am a woman who voted her female partner out of her own company, the company she founded. I am a woman who lost a marriage to, among other things, this line of work. I can’t sleep at night sometimes worrying if I’m seeing my kids enough or if I’ve been there enough for them or if it’s already too late.

But… I’ve done things. That always comes with a price, but I did them. One of the many things I’ve learned is that no matter what you do, somebody is around the next corner with a better version of it, and if that person is a man, it might not even be better. It just might get more attention. And sometimes, that person is you. The you that’s never satisfied with what you just did because you’re obsessed with whatever is next. The one constant is this.

I Will Always Love You The Most - Chapter One

“She’s beautiful, she’s innocent, she’s everything that’s good.”

Mor had never seen her before.

Which was a strange thing in itself, since Mor knew practically everyone in this school, but yet hers was a face she definitely didn’t recognize. And if she had, Mor knew she would have remembered it.

Keep reading

Did a prompt for @nervouswhispersgentlemen  Happy to :) Could you write something in the lines of Kat taking Adena out on a date and making sure Adena is super comfortable? Love the idea of Kat being on the protective side, caring for her girl. Thanks!

They had not even gotten out of the Uber yet and Kat’s hands were sweating profusely.  She had planned the entire evening out and it was already going to shit.  First, she got held up late at work with a “Twitter emergency” when her direct report tweeted the wrong date for the event and they had to manually fix everything they had just marketed.  Then, the Uber hit traffic so they were running about 45 minutes late for the reservation.  

Kat had literally done everything she could possibly do to make this night “perfect” and the universe was working against her.  She rubbed her hands against her leggings to hopefully dry her sweaty hands off before they got out of the car, but the more she felt Adena’s eyes on her the more nervous she got.  “I’m sorry,” Kat mumbled for what seemed like the 100th time in less than an hour.

“Kat, it’s fine.  The restaurant said they held the table, right?”

Kat nodded. Still not reassured though.

“See? Nothing to worry about.”

Kat was still worried though.  It was still early in their relationship and she was still new to this, and for all she knew one little mistake could ruin it all.  She should have had a little bit more faith in Adena, but her nerves always got the best of her.  

But when Adena placed her hand on Kat’s knee and gave it a small squeeze, and smiled warmly, Kat let out a breath she didn’t even realize she was holding.  

“It’s a Zagat rated place, and I heard it’s pretty good,” Kat said it shyly, but really she was proud of herself for putting so much forethought into a restaurant reservation.  

“I am sure it will be great.”

Just a small sentence, but it made Kat feel so much stronger.  All she wanted was to make sure that Adena had a good time, because every moment with Adena made Kat feel alive and she still wasn’t sure how to convey that to Adena or to repay that feeling.  Is that even something you repay someone for?

When the Uber stopped Kat practically jumped out to make sure she helped Adena out of the Uber and hurriedly thanked the driver, before grabbing Adena’s hand and ushering her towards the restaurant.  Sweaty hands be damned.  

It was more crowded than Kat was expecting.  And louder.  And immediately Kat was disappointed and annoyed.  She was still figuring out Adena’s like and dislikes, but she knew Adena liked quieter, intimate places where the two could talk.  “Oh man…” Kat audibly sighed.

“What’s wrong?” Adena turned to her, as they waited for the hostess to get to them.  

“I just didn’t think it would be so loud.  We could go somewhere else if you want?”

“It’s fine, Kat,” once again Adena squeezed Kat’s hand reassuring and smiled gently.  Kat sighed and tried to trust Adena and not be in her own head so much.  

When they sat down and got the menus, though, Kat’s stomach sank when she saw a completely different menu that was on their website.  Part of why she picked the restaurant was their wide selection of vegetarian options, and she wanted to be considerate of Adena’s dietary needs.  Yet here they were with chicken and beef and two salad choices.  “You are kidding me,” Kat put the menu down, completely frustrated.

Adena looked up over her menu and quirked an eyebrow at Kat.  “What?”

“It’s just all wrong,” Kat then put her head in her hands on the table and groaned loudly.  

“Hey,” Adena said softly as she put her menu down.  “What’s going on with you tonight? Talk to me.” Adena reached across the table and grabbed Kat’s hand.  

“I just…” Kat lifted up her head and was met with the kindest brown eyes, and she wanted to cry. “I just wanted this to perfect.  And it’s all going wrong. The Uber hit traffic. The place is like, popular or something now, and their Yelp was clearly wrong about the atmosphere and then they changed the menu.”  Kat rambled and grabbed the menu to show Adena. “It doesn’t even have hummus on here!” Kat plopped the menu down, completely annoyed.  And Adena looked at her, as she pouted and felt like a 5 year old throwing a tantrum, with sympathetic eyes and lopsided smile. Adena gave her a moment to stew in her frustration before finally speaking.

“Kat?” And it was something about the way that Adena said her name, or something about how Adena was rubbing circles on Kat’s hand with her thumb, but Kat lost all breath and thought process as she stared back at Adena, and she forgot what she was even so upset about.  “We are together, no?”

Kat narrowed her eyes, not fully understanding the question, but nodded slightly.

Adena playfully smiled and gave her hand another squeeze. “Then it’s already a perfect night. No Zagat rated place or Yelp or even a lack of hummus changes that. Okay?”

“Okay.” And Kat breathed out, not realizing just how much she needed to hear Adena say that, and not realizing just how right Adena was.  She didn’t need to repay Adena for anything, she didn’t need to make anything perfect.

Everything already was perfect, she just had to let herself relax enough to feel it.

Green lipstick

Originally posted by celebritiesandmovies

A/N: sort sexy ;)

Lately, you started to wear flashing beautiful lipstick. Half of it was because you thought you looked good, other half was to show off to Diana. You didn’t actually know she would like it a lot.

Well you didn’t know until Diana was practically begging you to kiss her and touch her. Of course you couldn’t pass up a goddess request so you two made out for what felt like hours. Green smudged lipstick was all over her neck and some light hickies.

You giggled at the sight of her neck and she quirked an eyebrow. “Is something wrong?”

“no…it’s nothing,” you reply, looking somewhere else other than her eyes so she couldn’t tell you were lying. She shrugged and gave you one last longing kiss before she got up from the couch.

“I have a meeting with the justice league. I will be back.” You nod at her, pushing her slightly so she would actually leave and stop staring at you. She mouthed a “I love you” before getting her coat and leaving. Your heart fluttered.


“Hey D! How is (Y/N) liking that new lipstick I bought her for her birthday?” Barry asked, jumping up from his seat as soon as Diana walked in. She laughed, hanging up her coat, exposing her neck.

Everybody went dead silence, taking a glimpse of her semi green neck. Arthur was the first to say something, bursting out laughing actually.

Diana frowned, not knowing what was so funny.

“look in the mirror,” Bruce said, pointing to it. Diana hurried to there and immediately saw what was wrong. Her face went crimson in embarrassment and soon everybody else was laughing.

“im guessing you like it as well?” Barry asked and Diana glared at him.

“shut up.”

Balor had sent for you, you weren’t exactly sure what it was, but the looks Karl and Luke were giving you didn’t really put your worries at ease. You hadn’t done anything wrong that you knew of, and he seemed to be fine most of the day except for the prisoner that had already died before he got to continue his experiment more.

It was weird how he got annoyed by things like that. Maybe that’s what he wanted, just to talk about it.

When you entered his throne room your stomach immediately heaved. The smell…Jesus that smell was awful. Your eyes began watering it was that bad. Balor sat on his throne, looking quite mighty, proud…what was he drinking? Wine?

The dark red on his lips didn’t lie. Blood. His tongue darted out to catch some of the blood that had escaped his eyes closed in contentment. The bodies of whom you assumed were his victims lay at his feet like a footstool.

Your gaze finally fell onto him before clearing your throat.

“You needed me?”

Balors eyes finally opened. He stared down at you before giving you a small nod.

“Yes…” He said. With his glass empty he tossed it carelessly across the room making the glass shatter. Was he drunk? You couldn’t tell.

“Are you feeling okay?” You ask him. You wanted to go to him, but the sight of the bodies had you glued to your spot. “You seem off.”

Balor began smiling. Oh no…he was smiling about something.

“Perfect darling.” He replied. “It’s almost Halloween on your beloved little earth. A great harvest for us down here.” His foot tapped against one of the victims heads. You nodded.

“Okay? And? What’s that mean? It’s Halloween, happens every year.” You honestly didn’t understand what the big deal was or why he had to tell you this now. Balor huffed and rubbed his face. He muttered something in what you assumed was Irish.

“It means…” he stood up slowly, making sure his footing was calculated. “It’s the perfect time for you and I to start trying for a baby.” He reached out to you and cupped your face.


He smiled. “ Yes…you’re going to give me an heir.”

(Thinking about continuing this one. Shall I? Give me ideas)

anonymous asked:

Prompt - Beca actually gets hurt when she falls out of the bear trap but she doesn't tell anyone until Chloe realizes that something is wrong.

“Not cool guys!” Beca yelled from the bear trap she’d managed to get herself caught in. She could hear the other Bellas below her arguing how best to get her down, but she couldn’t focus on what they were saying. 

She’d never been good with heights. And it wasn’t like she was super high right now, but she was still high enough that if the trap broke, she’d definitely get hurt.

But that wasn’t likely. These things were designed to hold bears after all and - 


Beca opened her eyes and looked up to see the other Bellas standing over her.

She saw Lily in the tree above, a knife held between her teeth.

“Am I dead?” Beca asked.

“Nope,” Fat Amy replied. 

“Are you guys gonna help me up or?” Beca asked, struggling to untangle herself from the rope.

Fat Amy grabbed her underneath her arms and lifted her onto her feet.

“There you go captain,” she said, roughly brushing away the dirt and leaves from her clothes. “Good as new.”

“Thanks,” Beca said. She looked around and noticed Chloe was absent from the group. “Where did Chloe go?”

The other girls shrugged and began making their way back to the tent. 

Beca tried to follow them but as soon as she put pressure on her foot, pain shot through her ankle.

“You okay?” Emily asked.

“Fine,” Beca said, gingerly putting weight on her ankle. It hurt, but she could walk on it. “I’m gonna try and find Chloe, you can head back to the tent.”

Beca waited until Emily was out of sight before she started limping back. 

She only made it a few steps before her ankle threatened to give way and she had to sit down.

She pulled her phone out of her pocket and sighed when she saw a big crack in the screen.

“Goddammit,” she muttered under her breath. She clicked the home button and saw she had no signal, and her battery was on 10%. Aubrey hadn’t given them access to any kind of electricity since they got there. So now she was stuck sitting in the sun with no water and no way to contact anyone.

She tried to stand again but the pain forced her back down.

“Cool,” she said. “What an awesome way to die. I’m going to haunt the shit out of Aubrey and Chloe.”

“Please don’t do that,” Chloe said.

Beca’s head snapped up and she saw Chloe there, hands on her hips

“Hi,” Beca said.

“Heard you were looking for me, but you don’t seem to have gotten very far. Everything okay?”

“Yep,” Beca said. “Totally fine.”

“So you don’t need any help right now?” Chloe asked, raising an eyebrow.


“Okay, well I guess I’ll leave you to it,” Chloe said turning to walk away.

“Wait,” Beca said. Chloe turned around but didn’t speak. “I hurt my ankle falling out of that tree. I need some help.”

“See,” Chloe said, crouching down beside her. “That wasn’t so hard was it?”

“Shut up,” Beca mumbled, wincing when Chloe lightly touched her ankle.

“Does that hurt?”

“Mmm hmm,” Beca said through gritted teeth. “Ow!” Beca said when Chloe touched it again.

“I can’t tell how bad it is without taking off your shoe,” Chloe said, looking up at her. “But that’ll really hurt.”

“You don’t need to take it off. I’m sure it’s fine,” Beca said.

Chloe sighed. “I’m gonna have to take you to the hospital.”

Beca groaned. “Seriously? It’s fine, I probably just twisted it.”

“It’s super swollen Beca, and you can’t even walk on it,” Chloe replied.

“I can too,” she said.

Chloe stood up and held up her hands. “Go ahead then,” she said.

“Fine, I will,” Beca said. She braced herself and pushed herself to her feet. The pain made stars explode behind her eyes and she only managed one step before her ankle gave way. Luckily Chloe caught her and stopped her from hitting the ground. “Thank you,” Beca muttered, red-faced.

“So, hospital?” Chloe asked, helping her walk back to the lodge.

“I guess,” Beca replied.

After hours of waiting, x-rays, and finally strong painkillers, Beca and Chloe made it back to the lodge.

The girls were all sitting around a camp fire, and cheered when they saw Chloe helping Beca walk towards them. Aubrey had given Beca and Chloe a guest room at the lodge so Beca wouldn’t have to sleep in the tent, but they still wanted to sit out with the girls for the final night.

“How are you Beca?” Aubrey asked nervously. She hoped Beca wouldn’t be mad that she’d gotten hurt at her lodge.

Beca gave her a thumbs up. “Fine and dandy,” she said, leaning a little too much into Chloe’s side. “It isn’t broken, just a bad sprain.”

Aubrey glanced at Chloe who just shook her head and smiled.

“Did they give you that good shit at the hospital, Beca?” Cynthia Rose asked, grinning.

“All I know is that an hour ago this hurt, and now… it doesn’t,” she said, dramatically. She looked at Chloe, who raised her eyebrows expectantly. “And also… I’m sorry that I said those things earlier. And I’m sorry that I tried to walk away… again. You guys are my… my best friends. And my family. And I love you all so much.”

“We love you too Becs,” Stacie said, smiling at the way Chloe had wrapped an arm around her shoulder to steady her.

“Some of us more than others,” Fat Amy muttered.

Chloe shot her a look, but Beca didn’t seem to notice.

The night went on and Beca started leaning more and more into Chloe’s side, until she finally yawned and closed her eyes contentedly.

“Maybe you should take her to bed, Chlo’,” Aubrey said.

“I’m not asleep,” she mumbled.

“Come on,” Chloe said, helping her to her feet. “Say goodnight.”

“Night,” Beca said, clinging to Chloe’s arm as she lead her back towards the lodge.

She was quiet as they made their way into their room. When Chloe sat her on the bed she noticed she had paled and that there was a sheen of sweat on her forehead.

“Okay?” Chloe asked.

Beca shook her head. “It hurts again.”

“You can’t take anymore painkillers until tomorrow morning,” Chloe said, frowning. 

Beca groaned dramatically and lay back down on the bed.

“Stay here, I’ll go get you some ice,” Chloe said, before leaving the room.

While she was away, Beca managed to change into some pyjamas, and Chloe returned to see her lying on the bed looking sore and miserable.

“Here,” Chloe said, placing a makeshift ice pack on her bandaged ankle.

“How’s that?”

“Cold,” Beca said.

“Well that’s ice for you,” Chloe replied.

Beca laughed before she closed her eyes. “Are you gonna stay?” She asked.

“Of course,” Chloe said. She quickly changed before climbing into bed beside her.

“You’re the best,” Beca said. “I really am sorry for what I said today.”

“I know Becs,” Chloe replied, playing with the brunette’s hair.

“I love you, Chlo’,” she said.

“I love you too,” Chloe replied, blinking back tears.

anonymous asked:


What? *runs to Nagito* What’s wrong? Are you okay?

I-I am sorry. Those anon just…annoyed me so I reacted a bit too strongly. But I’m not falling back into despair. I will never do that.

O-Okay…*hugs him* Sorry, just need to do that a bit.



She carefully moved to sit next to him, keeping as quiet as she could.

“Val,” she breathed, gently tapping his arm. “Val.” He stirred. “Are you awake?”

“I am now,” he groaned. “What’s up?”

“Shh,” she whispered. “Everyone else is sleeping.”

“Must be nice.”

“Shut up. I need to talk to you about something.”

“Something wrong?” he asked, sitting up and giving her more attention now. He rubbed his eyes and then focused on her.

“Not wrong, no. But I need to talk to you about something and it’s kind of… time-sensitive, I guess.”

“Yeah? How so?”

She couldn’t take a chance on everyone else remaining asleep for too long. She took a deep breath and threw caution to the wind. “Because I’m literally down to hours I have left to tell him I love him and I need to do it before it’s too late.”

“Tell who what?!”

“Shh!” she hissed, glancing around. Everyone else was still fast asleep. “James,” she said very quietly. “Tell James I love him.”

“Oh.” He blinked confusedly. “You mean you haven’t told him yet?”

“What? Who… How did you know?!”

“I have eyes, babe,” he said with a soft laugh. “So, you’re telling him?”

“No, I’m talking to you. But eventually? Maybe? Good idea or bad idea?”

He thought about it for a moment. “Both.”

He sighed. “That’s what I think, too. So, what do I do?”

“What do you want to do?”

She glanced over at him. He slept soundly, his head falling onto his shoulder. And she thought of this time tomorrow when she would no longer be spending every waking moment with him. Dancing with him. Laughing with him. Just being with him.

“I want to tell him I love him.”

“Then what the hell did you need to wake me up for?”

He was right, of course. He usually was.

And then James shifted in his sleep, turning his head so that he faced away from them and wriggling in his seat for a moment before he fell still again. She didn’t see the single tear that fell from his eyes.


It’s the heat of the moment
The warmth of hatred and blood
Spilt in consequence of my opponent
Eternity itself and I land with a thud
Unable to do a thing because it’s not real
One, three, five, seven, ten: it’s all surreal
The clock on the wall, it’s no good
Unhelpful as it’s always wrong
A shift in reality as told by a chunk of wood
Only right twice a day; the same old song
Out of power; no more battery
Inside of me in awakes: my all out anarchy

What is a girl to a God?
I stand before the cusp of infinity
As personed, I’m deeply flawed
Too much rage contained inside of tiny femininity
Want to throw a punch but I’m too afraid
Of broken bones and bloody noses
One day I’ll part the heavens like Moses
Because from my terror I have strayed
And into the eyes of all
I shall make my fall

A descent against time
Tick, tock
I hate it, I hate it, I hate it
The clock sneers on the wall; a paradigm
Of all that I rage against on lock

Numbers fall and rise
In heavy breaths, only one creature tolls for time
And that would be us: mad humanity who toils for a dime
We construct buildings of an unimaginable size
Against the hour we call home
And all for a construct of capitalism
With everything and everyone on loan
Parts of varying brokenness in a great schism

Time and time again, they chide
But we’re the only ones who remember
With pen and paper, our memories are tied
To the treasures of our ancestor

Yet how strange I find the passing of time
We’ve normalised it so much yet it couldn’t be more alien

But I refuse
It’s all an illusion

anonymous asked:

I know lauren can be aggressive, ignorant and make invalid arguments sometimes but can you stop hating on her please calling her a "dickhead" is too much and unnecessary how can u ship camren and hate lauren so much, also i have seen u posting theories abt her sexuality so u better than anyone shud know how difficult it must hv been for her to come to terms with her sexuality so young and in this cruel industry in public eye, also pls remember C & L are real ppl not tv characters ppl ship

Back up anon, when have I ever called Lauren that? You clearly haven’t seen my theories or else you wouldn’t make wrong and false accusations as you just have. 

Actually I know what you’re referring to, my last ask? It was inferred to the girl who commented the “Lauren hated you” on a post not Lauren. Read the context around things before you jump to conclusions.