#dont yell at the traumatised man please

[cameforstuff]

Gideon meets Ford

Alternate version under cut, may be funnier

Ford pov: Why is this toddler with tall hair yelling at me?

(Stan forced Ford to wear one of his shirts since he stinks)

[feralforfrank]

── LOVE CONFESSIONS IN THE DARK.

BRADLEY "ROOSTER" BRADSHAW X FEM!READER

summary you've been tasked to grab your clean clothes from the laundry room during a storm. little do you know, a certain someone has a similar task.

cw ANGST, but it's the last time. FLUFF. kind of bad writing. storms, thunder, the dark. feelings!!! miscommunication fr, definitely not how the navy operates, but idc. NON-DESCRPTIVE READER. TELL ME IF I MISSED ANYTHING.

note THE LONG AWAITED LAST PT3 IS HEREEEE. im feeling kind of...weird about the ending. i like it, but i dont love it. i hope you peeps enjoy it, though!! sorry for taking so long to write and post it :/

2.3K | masterlist

Sunday noon came around quicker than you wanted it. You'd slept until eleven and elected to stay in bed until it was time to eat. When that time came, you ate Penny's homemade burritos that Nix had sneaked in without the boys seeing.

The two of you ate in your bed and then laid back down. Phoenix was literally on top of you, her hands supporting her head. If Hangman were to walk in now, he'd never let her live this down. Badass Nix with messy bed hair, practically cuddling her heartbroken friend. It was a rare sight.

"I'm exhausted, Nix. I wish I'd never opened my goddamn mouth." You sighed, rubbing your temples.

You were tired. After your confession, you raced back here, flopped under the covers and cried, much like the night before. You wanted to take everything back—every word, movement and facial expression. Rooster hated you, and that was the only way you could get close to him—the hatred—but now you've shattered that wall. 

He doesn't like me. I ruined whatever connection we had. Fuck that stupid mouth of mine. Why did I have to react so poorly both times? He's not mine. I want him to be mine. No. Yes. Fucking hell, this headache. Can't we go back to normal—our normal? That has been your train of thoughts for God knows how long, and it was seriously tiring you out.

"Everything will work out for you. Rooster is full of surprises," Phoenix responded reassuringly.

You looked at her weirdly. "What kind of fucking riddle is that? Have you lost your mind?"

She just laughed, sitting up. "Shut up. I know what I'm saying."

You were about to reply when the screech of the bunkroom door caught your attention. "Oh my God!" Fanboy shouted, closing the door again. "Am I interrupting something?" 

You snorted. "Have you never heard of knocking?" You yelled back.

"What are you doing on top of each other, man?" He sounded traumatised. You giggled.

"None of your business!"

"Whatever, man. I came in to tell you it's going to storm real hard soon. Prepare for a blackout."

"Okay, thanks!" You hear the shuffling of feet moving away from your door and groan.

Phoenix makes a move to stand up. As if she knows what you're thinking, she speaks up. "I'm not going."

"Oh, please, Nix! You know how much I hate it down there! Especially if it's storming out," you whine but to no avail.

"You're in the Navy, for Christ's sake. And it's a quick job. Go in, grab the clothes, and come back. I already put them in the dryer. You only have to fetch them."

You groan but get up as well, blindly searching for your phone and earbuds. If you were going in that dark, scary laundry room, you'd at least do it your way. And who's a better companion than Taylor Swift?

It was early in the evening when all lights shut off. The heater in your room stopped groaning, and you concluded that the expected blackout was happening now. Nix was sleeping in her bunk above you, and you sighed. You'd put off going to the laundry room in hopes of Natasha changing her mind, but there was no way you were getting out of it now.

You really didn't want to face Bradshaw, and there was a big chance you would in the hallways. Unfortunately for you, no one has invented time travel yet, so you're destined to bump into him at some point. You work together, for fuck's sake. It's impossible to ignore him forever.

So, you gather yourself, put a hoodie over your t-shirt with the nearest civilian shoes, and plug your earphones before pressing play on Taylor Swift and blindly find the door. The backup generator is up and running, for the hallway lights are on. 

A few people are conversing and leaning on their bedroom doors. Some greet you with a nod and a smile, and you shoot them one back, ducking your head so as not to be spotted by your friends—who are likely hanging out with Rooster.

You arrive at the laundry room and immediately get to work. There's no one else in here, and it's cold. You feel like a child, shivering in fear as if a ghost will pop up from a corner. The music is blasting, and you're grateful, for the eeriness of this place makes you jumpy. Fuck, it's so dark.

Unbeknownst to you, Bradley was also on laundry duty. He'd put it off as much as he could, even paying Hangman to do it once. He hated the silence in that freezing room and how far away it was from everyone.

So, here he was, trying to walk as quietly as possible; so no admiral ghosts pop up to scare him. Lucky for him, he only had to put them in the bin, press a few buttons and be out of there in seconds.

He's startled when he sees you. Well, he spots your back, but he knows it's you. The unmistakable Taylor Swift tune reaches his ears. Bradley leans against the doorframe, watching as you bop your head and slightly move your hips while you hum the lyrics. 

He chuckles. Your undying love for the singer was the cause for your callsign, although not many people knew that. You made up a story about how quick you're in the air—that's why people call you that. But he knows.

And he loves his knowledge over that little detail about you because it's so significant. Bradley loves memorising things about you—from how you struggle to french braid your hair to how you like Heineken beer more than Corona because you don't like the stupid connection it has to Fast and Furious.

I miss you. The words are on the tip of Rooster's lips, but he doesn't dare say them. He wanted to give you space and time to rethink your words because—surprise, surprise—he's been in love with you for God-knows-how long. And he wants you to love him back, truly, but he doesn't want to freak you out. So, he'll gladly settle with watching you dance to Taylor while trying to hide the fond smile taking over his features.

A loud crack of thunder startles the both of you. The place goes completely black. Bradley moves off the doorframe, but you drop the half-filled basket with a gasp. A soft fuck escapes your lips, and Bradley decides to close the distance between you and help.

His hands look for your waist, wanting to help you up. He hadn't thought about how isolated you were from the world. You don't have time to move away from the hands circling around you, and a yelp escapes your lips when you hit something solid. One earbud falls off in the process.

You fight to move away and swat the person—God, please let it be a person and not an actual fucking ghost—with a shirt. You cry for it to get away, but the arms find your waist again while the person hushes you.

Bradley. It's Bradley. He's holding you tightly, shushing you, and you gulp deep breaths, trying to calm down. Your heart beat fast from what has happened, and because holy shit, Bradley Bradshaw is holding you.

You have to move away—your skin is on fucking fire. So much for ignoring him.

You push him, turning on your phone's torch. "What the fuck, Bradshaw? I almost had a heart attack." You hit him with the shirt you're still holding.

"I didn't mean to scare you. I was here to do my laundry, but the lights went out." He leaves out the part where he watched you dance. "I heard your basket fall, and I wanted to help."

And suddenly, oxygen is no longer making its way to your lungs, and your whole body is tense. Bradley is right here, in front of you, staring at you with his hands on his hips. And he also knows how you really feel about him. He has to go now.

"You, uh, you can go do your thing," you stutter, pushing your hair out of your face, your eyes never finding his. "I'll finish this on my own."

"No." It's nothing but a statement. "I'm not leaving you all alone down here."

Your heart warms, and the corner of your mouth lifts oh-so-slightly.

"Aren't you doing your laundry?"

"Fuck that. I'll do it tomorrow."

"Alright." You get back to picking your clothes out of the bin.

The silence between you lies somewhere between tense and comfortable. You feel at ease with Rooster here, knowing that no harm will come to you before him, but you can't help but feel awkward since he knows about your feelings now. The lights turn back on, and you have to make your blush disappear before he notices.

You ignore how your stomach turns—butterflies and anxiety—and close the washing machine bin's door when you finish. Well, you at least try to. The door won't latch, making you look like an idiot pushing the washing machine for no reason.

"Here, let me help." Oh my fucking God.

Rooster is hovering above you now, his hand replacing yours. He pushes the machine's door hard, and you hear the satisfying click. 

You can feel his breath down your shoulder, but you try not to tense. Your head spins to him involuntarily, and your eyes meet his. Your eyes fall from his eyes to his lips, and he does the same. Oh my God. Does he want to kiss you?

Your question is answered three long seconds later by him crushing his soft lips onto yours. It's like how all those novels and poets describe it. Instant fireworks. Your body tingles, and your heart pounds so hard that you think it'll rip off your chest. His hand encircles your waist, and you tighten your hold around a random shirt.

He's doing this out of pity. And just like that, the dream you've had for God knows how long is shattered by your own thoughts. You have to pull away.

"W-We can't do this, Rooster."

Your eyes meet his as you touch your lips. They're tingling, scratch that, your whole body feels like it's been electrocuted. He looks hurt and confused as he pants a few feet away from you.

"Why?" It sounds so sad.

"B-Because you don't like me, Rooster. I know you hate me, but I don't want something I've dreamed of for so long to get destroyed because of your silly antics." You sound even sadder.

"Is that what you think?"

"It's not a thought, Bradshaw. I know it. I've seen it with my own eyes." Tears have gathered in your eyes. Fuck, those mood swings.

Bradley exhales deeply. "I don't hate you, Swift. Never in my life have I felt what I feel when I'm around you. I feel all hot and tingly when you walk past me. My cheeks burn like a kid when your comments involve my love life, because deep down, I want you to be the protagonist of my fantasies, not some random girl I met at the Hard Deck.

Your jokes and your talent, your wit and your beauty—I love them. Your charm and ability to persuade everyone into doing chores for you are my favourite. I love listening to you talk, sarcastically or not, because you always have something to say.

Do you know how many times I've eavesdropped on you and Phoenix so I could learn more about you? I know about your hatred for Fast and Furious movies, your obvious Taylor Swift adoration, and the one time you got hammered and thought you were talking to her. 

I love knowing all those details about you, and it's not because I can use them against you. They're what make you...well, you! You're nothing like the girls I've met in my life. You're extraordinary, and I..."

He hesitates.

"Is this...Did Natasha put you up to this? I swear I don't want your pity and fake love confessions, Bradley. You don't have to pretend to be in love with me—"

"But I am! I am madly in love with you. The kind of love that is so dangerous and—and so crushing. I want to be with you every second of the day, annoy you, and make you smile. It's all I've ever wanted for years now."

Your eyes are wide and glossy, eyebrows raised in shock and confusion, and so many emotions. 

"I love you, Swift," he confirms.

"Prove it." Your words are merely a whisper.

Despite the hard rain and thundering outside, your voice is the only melody in Bradley's ears. And he doesn't hesitate. He crushes his lips against yours again, this time with hunger, passion, frustration and love. You kiss back with just as much force, but before you know it, you're pulling back, gasping for breath.

Bradley's hands are cupping your cheeks, and his forehead is touching yours. Your breaths mingle as you stare up at him. Your fingers grip his shirt tightly. 

"Is that enough proof for you?" He whispers.

You lightly shrug. "I still haven't forgiven you for almost calling me a slut." That's a lie—you have. You forgave him as soon as your head hit the pillow yesterday. He didn't mean it.

He sighs a long, sad sigh. "Please, let me make it up to you. I was a—a jerk. A complete and utter idiot. I don't deserve your love, but please, I need it. Give me a chance to prove how much I love you." Your heart clenches, and a smile tugs at your lips. 

"You can make it up to me as long as you want, Bradley Bradshaw."

He smiles back, and you think; this is it. This is heaven on earth. Bradley Bradshaw—the man you've longed for so long—smiling at you with nothing but adoration. You're heart feels light and free.

You don't want the moment to end.

[that-milo-kid]

Day 7: PTSD

Warnings: a corpse is spoken about in detail, blood is mentioned and there is swearing

Fandom: none

Word Count: 912

Characters: none - this story is written from a second person pov

Notes: this is entirely based off my personal experiences, because i didn’t know what to write for today. i dont have ptsd however i experience some similar symptoms, so thats mostly what i based this on (ALSO IRLS IGNORE THIS DAY LOL PLEASE DONT READ THIS)

this is a combination of a vent post and a practice at second person narration

You can still see him when you close your eyes.

Lying on the sidewalk, one arm bent at an unnatural angle, so covered in blood and bruising that he hardly seems recognisable. Not that you would be able to recognise him anyway – you didn’t really know him, after all.

He lies there, and an EMT standing beside him drapes a white sheet over his body and it feels like the sirens enter your head and make a home in your memories, in your thoughts. There are two cars pulled up beside him, one blue and one white, and there’s a blonde woman. You think she’s crying, but you can’t be sure.

And then you're gone, your car flying by with the wind and you’re just one of many, many citizens taking the motorway on a Friday afternoon. Your dad is sitting in the seat next to you, and his music is playing almost loud enough to drown out the sirens and he’s saying something mut you can’t  really hear him, can’t really understand what he’s saying.

You think it’s something about your brother. You don’t think it really matters either way.

The ride home is a blur, but then again, most things ae after that afternoon. You get home and your mother is there, yelling, because you shouldn’t be so cavalier and calm about death. Its cruel, its inhumane, and you’re reminded of a conversation you had with her recently about something else where she said the same thing. You wonder if she realises that she repeats herself so often.

You leave, eventually, because you have things to do and your mother has things to do and your dad left ages ago – maybe hours or minutes or even seconds. He leaves. You don’t notice anymore.

You're surprised when you get to your room, by how little you feel. You saw a corpse. The corpse of a man who was somebody’s father, somebodies son. A best friend.

Maybe it was normal. But you think about how your mother reacted to your indifference earlier, and you wonder if maybe you’re broken. How fucked up is it that you saw a dead man, and the worst part for you is that your mother’s upset with you?

You get your things, and you get in the car – not the truck, not with the loud music and the sirens and the

You get in the car.  You drive down the motorway, and you don’t look don’t think don’t feel when you drive past the sidewalk.

It’s on the radio that afternoon. A horrible accident, a hit and run that supposedly ‘left onlookers scared and traumatised’. You wonder if you’re one of them. None of the big news channels that night cover it. You hear about an armed robbery in America. You hear about how the stock market is fluctuating. There is no mention of the man in your neighbourhood that was killed.

You wonder why.

Day pass, and then months, and then it’s a new year entirely and you still remember the exact date the man died. You know his name now – you checked the news to see if it had been released every day after the accident.

He was a father to a young girl, apparently. Only 24, a health freak and gym junkie. He  was part of the military. You wonder how much of his life he got to live.

You see him everywhere. Not only behind your eyes and in your dreams, no. You see him at the shops, in a young father with a toddler, holding his daughters hand and walking her around. You see him whenever you pass by the gym near your house, seeing all of the people swarming the entrance at all times of the day. You wonder if he was ever one of them.

You aren’t sure if his daughter will remember him. Why does this matter to you – you never knew this man. Somehow, a man you’ve only ever known as a corpse has become an important part of your life. You can’t figure out why.

There aren’t any cemeteries near your area. You wonder if he was buried or cremated. Would you be able to visit his grave, if he had one? How would you explan your visit to a family member that might be there?

‘Oh, sorry to show up to your relatives grave, I saw  his dead body being carted away by paramedics and now I can’t stop thinking about him. Enjoy your day!’

You decide not to look. It’ll be easier that way.

Some people you know throw around terms – traumatic, disorder, therapy. You don’t listen too hard. You don’t hear anything but sirens anyway.

You don’t walk on that sidewalk for months afterwards. When you finally do, it’s hand in hand with a friend who doesn’t notice your panic attack, who laughs off your warning to stick to the side of the path. And you can’t quite blame her. You suppose it would sound stupid if someone told you that, too.

No one really knows. A few friends, and your mother, but she told you that if you told anyone else then it made you a terrible fucking person, so you don’t. you make a few jokes, and people laugh it off because it’s you. They were never really jokes, not really. But you don’t know how else to say it.

September 17th.

You can still see him when you close your eyes.

[merlinssaggyyfronts]

BBC Merlin Rewatch:

01x01: The Dragon’s Call

—

FIRSTLY THE FUCKING DESCRIPTION LMAO “Merlin, a young country boy” COUNTRY BOY AHAHDHSNDH IF ONLY YOU KNEW!!! ITS LIKE SETTING SOMEONE UP FOR DISASTER BUT THEN AGAIN THEY WERE SO LIKE I MEAN-

aw look at merlin all happy and smily, walking into camelot like he isnt going to witness the death of his best friend/king and basically everyone he loves

LOOK AT HIM HES SO HAPPY!!! HE DOESNT KNOW YET

“like everyone, he must live and learn” yo shut ur bitchass up lizard man u literally tried to murder everyone in camelot that one time

“his name: traumatised 😍😍”

AH YES THE OPENING!!1!1!-!-! AHHH THE AMOUNT OF HAPPINESS I FEEL HEARING THE OPENING

fuck ur bitchass uther no one likes u

“i pride myself as a fair and just king” sir didnt u like basically kill ur wife... and thousands of peo- OH MY GOD MORGANA BB ILY

oh jesus okay hes dead um chile-

“when i came to this land” wait i thought he was raised kn camelot brb i forgot im an idiot wait,,, does this mean before this it was the du bois family on the throne of camelot?? also, mired in chaos? u mean like.... before ur wife died and everyone was living peacefully? ....okay

“merlin, seeing a person who's been stated had been studying magic get beheaded: [a magical being himself] ah,, welcoming.” -my gf

“since the great dragon was captured” ....so did no one think about where they put a dragon?? a captured one at that. ud think he’d be more smart but nah he just left a random ass dragon under his castle like THAT is going to end well

YUHH MARY COLLJNS HATE HIM!!! YELL BABEY YELL!!! “you took my son!” YES MURDER HIM OMG I CAN FEEL HER PAIN

“a son for a son!” omg why couldnt u have killed uther bb ur the perfect villain i love u ur literally just a loving mother i-

OOOOO GAIUS

.....why is there a bunny mask in there

why is thERE A BUNNY MASK-

why didnt merlins eyes glow when he dragged the bed to gaius to save him

also whats this slomo magic why didnt he do this after this why did season one haveso much magic and like every other season was just everyone throwing it back

like i get instinctual magic but like.... if its instinctual wouldnt it happen more especially when his powers get stronger-

gaius: what did you just do?!

also gaius, five seconds later: i know what it was!! i just wanted to know where you learned it

merlin: 😐

merlin, about his magic: i was born like this

gaius, who knows full well warlocks exist: impossible!

(are warlocks naturally born knowing how to use magic without learning? i mean if u have to learn magic like a sorcerer then whats the difference between a warlock and a sorcerer cuz wouldnt sorcerers atleast have to have some magic in them to actually cast spells? am i dumb or do i just not get it)

wait so merlin arrived in camelot on a wednesday

merlin, walking into camelot: it is wednesday my dudes

merlin: [witnesses an execution] aaaAAAAAA-

“someone that might help him find a purpose of his gifts” oh honey he’ll get something mUCH LARGER THAN THAT-

—

oH MORGANA

SHUT UR BITCHASS UTHER SHE WILL KILL YOU-

“the more brutal you are, the more enemies you’ll create” oh the waY SHE PREDICTED THEIR FUTURE OO

ah bless u lady helen/mary collins we love them spicy villains

...why do you have a dressing table in a tent

[watches mary collins murder lady helen] i never snitch on dadd- ...someone pls delete me

merlin, about his instinctual magic: i just do it!

gaius: ...lord have mercy what did i just sign myself up to

what ever happened to sir olwen did he die from accidentally overdosing

—

oHHH THERE HE IS THERE HE IS THERES MY BOY!!! MY LIL PRAT MAN!!!!

merlin looks so offended, oh god i could watch this whole scene for HOURS

oooOOOO YES MERLIN FUCK HIM UP!!! SHOW HIM WHOS BOSS

“do i know you?” “im merlin” “so i dont know you” ugh theres already sexual tension

“i would never have a friend who could be such an ass” “or i one so stupid”

also them, ten years later: “i use my magic for you arthur, only you” “just hold me” “i cant lose him! hes my friend!” “thank you..”

“tell me merlin, do you know how to walk on your knees?” OOOOH THE BOYS ARE FLIRTING

NOT THE “would you like me to help you?” SIR YOU ARE FLIRTING SO INTENSELY AND DONT EVEN REALISE IT SIR DO YOU KNOW YOURE FALLING IN LOVE

im convinced atleast half the knights with arthur were like “ayo thas kinda sus bro 😳😳 ayo 😳😳”

arthur: tell me merlin, do you know how to walk on your knees? would you like me to help you?

merlin: ....i really dont know how to answer that

imagine being paid to throw fruits at colin morgan omg id be so thrilled

OOOH HERE COMES OUR QUEEN GWEN!!! MY LOVE MY EVERYTHING YES ILY

gwen: well, arthur looks like one of those, save the world kinda men... and you dont

merlin, 1500 years later, having failed his destiny: well i mean you’re not wrong

—

gaius: uther banned magic a long time ago

merlin, flabbergasted as if he wasnt raised on tales of the death of his kind every day in the kingdom right next to his: why?!?!?

gaius: the dragon is imprisoned where nobody can free him

merlin:

(that is the face of someone knowing full well hes going to free that dragon. look at him. he’s already made up his mind.)

—

[sees merlin and arthur in the marketplace] oh heres he is again heres the lil bitxh ooo theyre about to FIGHT

god hes flirting so hard without even realising it, oh my god

“i could take you apart with one blow” “i could take you apart with less” um sirs this is a mcdonalds drive thru 😃

arthur: ahah, you’re in trouble now~ 😏😏

i had to pause cuz wHAT THE HELL WHY DOES HE SOUND LIKE THAT-

—

....yall are yelling very loudly, um, arent there guards near yall? people passing by? please relax

“im just a nobody, and i always will be” OH IF ONLY YOU KNEWWW

“if i cant use magic, i might as well die” ....well, ive got a surprise for you-

“maybe theres someone with more magic than me?” like... a whole dragon? i mean if you say so 👀

merlin about why he was born like this: if you cant tell me, no one can!

a fucking dragon, basically every magical creature and the druids: WELL-

the camelot guards are so stupid how the hell is this kingdom still standing

how does kilgharrah know merlins name? in prophecy hes known as emrys (and we see basically every magical being call him emrys and not merlin,, i think). so how does he know? did he stretch his neck long enough that he could somehow hear merlin? is it cuz theyre kin? is it cuz merlin and gaius were yelling so loudly that kilgharrah could hear them all the way in his cave? ig we’ll never know 🖐

merlin: where are you?!

kilgharrah:

kilgharrah: without you, arthur will never succeed.

merlin: ....oh look, im already paranoid

the amount of sadness i feel hearing kilgharrah say “none of us can choose our destiny, merlin. and none of us can escape it” is INSANE cuz in season one you can SEE merlin trying to escape it. hes doing his damned best trying to have some control over his life. and then in later seasons you can see the light slowly drain from his eyes as he becomes just another toy for the gods to be entertained by. he realises he cant control a single thing about his life so he does the one thing he can: protect arthur. and he loses SO MUCH because of it! its not fair, he deserved so much, and when he finally got everything he could ever ask for, it was taken away from him by his own mistakes.

arthur, seeing morgana in a beautiful dress: god have mercy 😍

uther: .....um

the way they set arthur and morgana up as if they arent gonna make them siblings i- what the fawk 😄

person A, who knows arthurian lore: oh no! arthur is going to have an affair with morgan(a) and have mordred! oh no!!

person B, whos seen merlin: oh no in this show its worse

person B, knowing full well theyre siblings: much worse....

gwen: who’d wanna marry arthur? 🙄

-

gwen, getting crowned queen of camelot: well fuck

hhhnghnh yes queen sing them to sleep yes murder his bitchass (and fail but like its the thought that counts)

on a sidenote tho this is such a fun way to murder someone, id try this

the absolutely OFFENDED “FATHER!” and the horrified look in arthurs eyss when uther announced merlin would be his manservant is PRICELESS OMG

oh the way uther unintentionally plants the first seed of his sons love story omg 😍😍

Conclusion: this episode is a 10/10 greatest episode with so many iconic scenes omg. mary collins u will forever have my heart for unintentionally kickstarting merlin and arthurs relationship destiny. i loved the whole thing and oh GOD does it already hurt knowing full well how the show ends

[ivan-rakitic]

skinny dipping

(a/n: the recent live inspired me to write this! this is a no wives/kids/shaved heads au! tell me what you think about it! i wrote it between 2 am and 5 am so dont be too harsh)

šime opened his eyes, startled, as the loud sound started blaring from his phone. he shut his eyes tightly, trying to gain his consciousness, head still dizzy with sleep. he noticed the lack of his shirt and, even though it was a warm night, he shivered. falling asleep on the balcony of his hotel room was a very bad idea.

looking down at the phone he saw dejan's name.

"wha'?" he mumbled sleepily as he stood up from the chair and stretched.

"let's go skinny dipping." dejan's voice seemed too happy and too hyper for šime's current state of mind.

"are you nuts?" šime entered his bedroom in search for a shirt.

"c'mon, it's like three in the morning so no one will be by the pool. i haven't gone skinny dipping in years." he could see dejan making puppy eyes at him through the phone.

"yeah, i remember your last skinny dipping clearly, saw your bare ass on the front page of the newspapers the day after." šime replied nonchalantly. he wasn't awake enough for a naked dejan lovren, he didn't have as much self control as he should.

"good thing there won't be any hidden paparazzi here, come on."

"but why the pool though? i like the sea better." he really tried to find an excuse.

"forget about the sea, i'll be waiting for you in front of your room in two minutes. be ready." dejan hung up and šime immediately threw his phone on the bed. he could only groan in despair as he put on the first shirt he could find.

he had enough time to brush his teeth and wash his face, to make himself look at least a bit decent. just as he was grabbing a towel, heard a knock on the door.

"usually i'm the one with crazy ideas." he chuckled when he saw dejan.

"well, i decided to switch our roles for a while. by the way, have you been sleeping?"

"no, i was cooking, you dipshit, of course i was sleeping!" šime began raising his voice as he locked the door and turned towards dejan.

"shush, you're gonna wake the whole hotel up." dejan barely managed not to laugh as they walked towards the pool.

"you woke me up, i don't see why they deserve to sleep and i don't." šime pouted.

"i would say i'm sorry but you could have just ignored me and continued sleeping if you really wanted to." dejan said casually and wrapped his arm around šime's shoulders making the smaller man rethink the whole situation. with his luck, he's gonna end up confessing his feelings to dejan.

dejan was right; they had the whole pool for themselves. dejan quickly ran to the pool, taking his shirt off and, before jumping in, his shorts. šime quickly averted his eyes, his cheeks burning already. he hoped that it was too dark to see.

he slowly took off his shirt, his thoughts storming through his head. you can do this, you've survived rooming with him in russia,you can do this.

"c'mon, hurry up! i didn't order a strip tease!" dejan shouted from the pool. šime felt his face heat even more and he realized that the way he was taking his shirt off must've looked like he was making a show.

"fuck off." he grunted and quickly stripped off his pants. not wanting to stand there naked in front of his long term crush, he jumped into pool.

"hey!" he heard dejan yell as the water sprayed over him. šime surfaced with a biggest grin to see dejan wipping his eyes.

dejan looked at him for a second before diving and pulling him down by his legs. šime's scream was muffled and he tried to open his eyes under water but the dark of the night made it impossible to see anything.

when he resurfaced, dejan was giggling like a child. šime couldn't help but smile at the adorable human in front of him.

"you little shit!" he didn't waste any time jumping on dejan and sending them both under water again, dejan gripping his biceps firmly.

they messed around in the water for a while, pushing each other and being loud. šime felt bad for other people who were staying at the hotel, but he was having too much fun to care.

in one moment dejan tackled him down and he decided to stay underwater just to be able to jump out and scare the other.

suddenly he felt strong hands pulling him up and saw dejan's worried face. he broke out in giggles, couldn't help himself.

"are you fucking crazy?! i thought you were drowning or something! don't do that to me ever again!" dejan was loud and šime saw fear in his eyes.

"oh please, i'm messing with you! besides, i'm zadarsko dite." šime smiled at him.

"i don't care about you being zadarsko dite, you almost gave me a heart attack! don't mess with me like that!" dejan's hands were still on him, holding him tightly.

he looked so vulnerable and worried in that moment that šime thought he was going to melt. his skin was burning where dejan was holding him and he couldn't not stare in his dark eyes.

"didn't mean to scare you." šime whispered. his gaze slipped to dejan's wet lips but he quickly looked back at his eyes.

his heart was beating so loudly in his chest, he was sure dejan could hear it. he felt his chest getting tighter, his throat closing. please don't do anything stupid, you're his best friend.

dejan suddenly leaned his forehead on šime's, their noses touching. šime felt himself getting weak, his arms finding dejan's waist. please don't do anything stupid, he doesn't like you like that.

one of dejan's hands found its way to šime's jaw, his thumb gently rubbing circles on his cheekbone. time seemed to stop, he couldn't hear anything but his heart. please don't do anything stupid.

"push me away." dejan was so quiet, if he wasn't so close he wouldn't have heard him.

šime gently shook his head, placing his palms on top of dejan's wide shoulders. he couldn't believe dejan wasn't the one pushing him away. please.

dejan closed the distance between, bringing their lips into a passionate kiss. šime felt lightheaded, respoding immediately. he gripped the other's shoulders trying to deepen the kiss.

he pulled away to get some air, his forehead still leaning on dejo's. he took a deep breath.

"i'm sorry." dejan sounded so small and lost šime wanted to hug him and never let him go. "i - i-" he stammered refusing to look in šime's eyes. please don't mess it up.

"i've been in love with you for years." šime interrupted him. dejan looked up so fast, eyes full of hope.

"are you serious?" šime nodded and pulled the man into another kiss.

"can you two please continue doing that in your room? you've already woken up half of the hotel, we don't need them traumatised too!" someone shouted from the door making them pull away. even though they were laughing, šime felt his cheeks burn again. dejan gave the person thumbs up but turned to šime again, smiling like a fool.

"ready for bed, my love?"

[freaksneedfriendstoo]

My name is Julie and I have a very real and moving Testimony I would like to share with you. Please share this with anyone struggling with mental health, abuse or addiction so that they can know Gods power.

I was born in Toronto in 1983 and taken by CAS at 3 months old. The details surrounding this are sketchy for me but basically my mother got arrested and she got my aunt to watch me who then gave me to a lady she met on the street. I had a very bad cough and the lady took me to the hospital who called CAS because apparently I had bruises. I spent 10 months in foster care and was then adopted. I had psycological problems from the start and would destroy and rip everything apart. I think its because I never had normal bonding or was traumatised. I spent my youth very bullied and I would usually just walk around by myself all recess watching the other kids play. I liked to be alone and at 11 I was taken to a psychiatrist because I became so reclusive and stopped wanting to even eat. I would just listen to my micheal jackson tapes over and over on my walkman with my face buried in the couch.

I started cutting myself at 14 and smoking weed and cigarettes. I got sent to a psychiatric ward the summer after grade 9 and would never live with my adoptive parents again. I got passed through such facilities as Youthdale, Whitby psyc, Thistletown in Etobicoke and Crossroads run by Kinark. In the hospitals I was frequently left alone in restraints tying me to a bed and given so many drugs my personality was gone. My adoptive parents didnt even know me anymore when they visited.

At Whitby I was diagnosed with borderline personality disorder by a team of psychiatrists. I frequently would run away from the group home crossroads and once in a fit of rage I climbed the fire escape and threw myself off the roof. An ambulance arrived and put me on a board. I had hairline fractured my lower back.

Shortly after this I ran away from there for good and met up with a 25 year old man named Andrew. I was 16 at the time He was homeless and I stuck to him like glue as he showed me how to live on the street. He had a terrible temper and would beat me especially when he was drunk. I spent 11 months with him living on the street in abandonded houses, under a bridge and for a short time in an apartment in Bradford they we got through a worker. The police would get called to the apartment because people would hear me screaming from him hitting me. I was abusing cocaine and would use anything I could to get high.

After we left there we stayed on the street again and one night around 2am Andrew was drunk and he was literally beating me to death. He was sitting on me and just going at it. He put his hand in my mouth and tried to break my jaw. When I looked in his eyes it was like he didnt even know me anymore. The thought came into my mind to yell at him and desperate I started yelling at him to get away from me. To my astonishment he actually walked away from me yelling at me. I got up and ran pausing for moment to gaze a my reflection in a store window. My face was all swollen and bruised. I ran behind a mall and found a man making deliveries who called mall security who called the police.

I got placed in a group home in Newmarket called Heritage Lodge. I met a 26 year old drug dealer named Doug and started dating him. He got me into using needles shooting cocaine and oxycitin. I would abuse any pills to get high such as Gravol. He would also hit me and I got kicked in the head by him 2 times in a row with shoes on so hard I blacked out for a moment. He got arrested for this and then I went back to him about 6 months later. I had no feelings of self worth or real love.

When I was 18, I took an overdose of pills and went to the hospital and told them I was suicidal. They put me in a small room to wait and see someone. The room had a framed picture on the wall and sadly I broke the glass in the frame and I slit my wrists so badly up and down my forearm that my arm is disfigured by scars for the rest of my life. 4 thick, ropey scars.

At 19 I got pregnant by Doug and went with the baby to a womans shelter when the baby was around 3 months old. We went to Rosalie Hall in Scarborough and Sandgate womans shelter. I recieved emergency housing and was given a one bedroom apartment in a co-op. So now it was just me and my baby. My adoptive parents lent me a small black and white tv and a sleeping bag and I would camp out on the floor snuggling my baby until I got furniture.

After about a year I felt this urgency to find out the truth in life. I went to a used book store called Random Books to see what I could find. I found a book called There’s A New World Coming. The title sparked my interest so I bought it. I took it home and read it right through. It was all about Bible prophecy. At the end of the book was a prayer to recieve Jesus as your Saviour. I recognized that I was a terrible sinner and jumped at the chance to have a Saviour. I prayed for Jesus to be my Saviour and to forgive my sins. I confessed my faith in Him.

Then I tell you the truth I felt God’s indescribable, powerful love washing over me like gentle ocean waves. I spent like a week crying and praying. Confessing my sins. You see having borderline disorder the only thing I had ever felt was desperation. Desperation to be loved but I had no idea what love was nor could I express it. I had felt rage, I had felt pain like there was a giant hole in my chest.

In that moment God filled that hole with His love and peace. He gave me His Holy Spirit and great faith. He forgave me for all my wretched sins because of His great mercy. I have never been the same.

I began distributing Bible tracts and going to church. I got baptised on June 12 2005 and my baptism certificate sits by my bed. Instead of self destruction and self hatred I can by the power of the Holy Spirit feel love and compassion for others. I will help anyone and am moved to express love for others in whatever way I can.

God has filled me with His great compassion for the homeless as I know what it is like to sit panhandling. This new creation He has made in me prepares packages with Bible tracts and gift cards and treats and now I go seek out the broken and the lost on the streets of Toronto every two months.

This Christmas the Holy Spirit moved me to prepare gifts for the homeless and I set out Christmas morning with a hockey bag filled with wrapped packages of pot of gold chocolates, gift cards, handmade cards filled with Scriptures about hope and belonging. ‘No Greater Love Then Jesus’ is what the covers read. God uses me to bring His love to them. God’s love and compassion are the most beautiful things I have ever felt and He fills my heart in an indescribable way. This is just one example of what God has done in my life.

So when people dont believe in God I can tell them without a doubt that God is real. He has done a miracle in me. Everything in the Bible is true. God is good. He is pure in everyway. He is light and He sent His Son Jesus to destroy the works of the devil. The devil devours kids like I was but the Lord rescues them. He saves them.

My name is Julie and I am a living testimony that God is mighty to save and with His Spirit, He can transform even the most broken, hopeless person. Its all about having faith in Jesus and surrendering to His Spirit. Chris Tomlin music has helped me greatly with this as it is so soothing to my soul.

The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentless, faithfulness and self control. I really rely on God’s Holy Spirit as apart from Him I cant feel love, peace, compassion or joy. It’s not things I can or have produced on my own. The works of the flesh (me without Jesus) were all destructive and led to death. Here is my poem called broken that I wrote 12 years ago during the first week I was saved. It poured from me like water.

BROKEN I look at my wrists, I see the scars I search my soul, I know my shame I’ve been led by the blind and beaten down by sin I should have died, but You wouldn’t let them win I see Your hands, the holes in Your palms I know your glory has overcome all pain I turn to You Lord, in my broken suffering A love unimaginable, how can this be In all my wretchedness, You reached out to save me A soul so pure, my hero, Your truth The word of God that whispered to my heart and set me free As I tripped over trials, in this deathly darkness I looked for the way Your light opened my soul and my eyes lit up with hope You showed me a path that I can now take Thanks to Your selfless sacrifice This girl will never fade away I toddle like a baby, into Your strong hands I am Yours, You have made me new again Paralized with tears, my repentance shakes my being Then You kiss my tears away and I am no longer unclean Thank you Father, my cross I’ll bear 'Till the day I go home, when You shout from the sky All Your children will run to You with a happy cry And there I’ll be, tucked safely under Your wing As we fly away, this life will have seemed like a dream I will never forget how You gave Yourself for me I love you Lord Jesus