make him stop

Chris Pratt’s reactions are the realest tho


“Omg. She just said that. She just-”

“Did you hear that? Wtf? What’s wrong with her?”

“Oh dear god. He’s laughing too. I’m alone.”

“I can do this. Smile. Conceal don’t feel.”

“Why do you feel the need to put us through this? Why are you such a horrible person?”

“No shit, Sherlock!”

“Do you realize you just dug your own grave?”

“Never doing this again.”

I don’t think people give this generation’s of Disney Channel Stars enough credit. Like I said before, we have Cameron Boyce who’s white passing but speaks out about his black heritage and roots. We have Dove Cameron who’s a fucking angel, literally what I refer to as this generation of Disney’s Hilary Duff and who speaks up about girl power (plus, she and her boo Ryan are engaged and the cutest Disney couple since Zanessa). Zendaya, the BEYONCE of Disney Channel right now, who slays the game all fucking day and basically runs her own shit, do her own thang and pointing out REPRESENTATION. Skai Jackson, need I say more? Who wouldn’t love this child? ROWAN FUCKING BLANCHARD who vocally supports and shows so many respect to LGBT+, #BlackLivesMatter, Feminism and speaks out on so many fucking issues that literally she (and Zendaya) is like one of the very few Disney Channel stars that speak on all of these issues and more. We have Sofia Carson, who’s representing the Latina community of Disney and tbh it’s been since WOWP since we had that. Not to mention the cast of Stuck in the Middle, clearly that’s representation of a big Latina/Hispanic family that Disney has not done in years. Sabrina Carpenter, who’s voice is like a breath of fresh air, one of the talented voices that Disney has ever consumed. And there’s so much more and so many current DC Stars that are bringing a new light to what was a dim Disney Channel. People are so quick to not like what they see because it isn’t what it used to be for them. Well, I believe and I know these stars are talented and bringing new material to a growing world and network.

Habits - Part 1

Sofia’s Masterlist | Sneha’s Masterlist

(Part 1) (Part 2)


Finding a place to live in New York City is harder than you thought, and yet when Bucky Barnes makes you an offer you can’t reject, you think your bad luck with hideous apartments might be over. The catch? You two can’t stand each other. (Living with him can’t be that bad, can it?)

Warnings: swearing

Word count: 1108

A/N: Here’s to our first entirely co-written fanfic!
We are honestly through-the-roof levels of excited to (finally) share this with all of you – we’ve been working on it for about two months now (ahh!!). This is something none of us has tried before, but we really hope you enjoy it!!!! 

Happy reading!

Originally posted by heartfulloffandoms

The mission is a breeze. It’s not very often Bucky finds himself saying that, especially facing HYDRA. Usually – and this time is no different – he has to take a moment to prepare himself, to just breathe. But tonight’s going by well, better than it’s been going before. From his standpoint on the roof, he can see everything around him. The rest of the team is in the building, and he’s waiting on them to finish with whatever they’re doing so they can get back home and take a goddamn shower.

“Hey Y/N” Clint’s voice resonates through the comms, startling Bucky. “How was apartment hunting?”

He huffs, both in annoyance and to blow a stray piece of hair away from his face. He hasn’t been around that long, but it’s long enough for him to know that Clint and Nat usually behave like gossiping housewives when they’re on missions. It’s amusing though, hearing them make casual conversation while trying to infiltrate a high-security military building. How they managed to walk in without being noticed in spite of their chatter is beyond him.

“Awful. There are no decent apartments in New York,” another voice answers. It’s Y/N, he could recognize that voice – that two percent high pitched and ninety-eight percent annoying voice – anywhere, and she’s slightly out of breath, her short pants audible to his trained ear. “I found a nice one but it was either sell a kidney and buy the place  or stay at the compound and babysit you, and as much as I can’t stand you sometimes Clint, I’d like to keep all of my organs, thank you very much.”

He’s getting pissed now, hearing their mindless conversations as if they’re sitting around on somebody’s living room. He’s tense, his head hurts, his shoulders hurt, and he needs a goddamn shower. “If you’re done talking,” he says, stomping one foot loudly on the ground as if to prove his point even though no one can see him “There should be a safe box in the third floor, probably in one of the offices. That’s what we’re looking for.”

There are huffs on the other end of the line as the team moves through the building, Bucky’s infrared glasses allowing him to see where they are. He makes sure the room is clear before giving them the signal to go inside, and then it’s just a matter of minutes until they all step out, Y/N tightening her backpack straps before giving him a whistle, signaling that it’s time to go. The ride to the jet is quick, with him staying behind, rifle at the ready in case he needs to defend the team from any surprise attacks.

His mind is starting to get jumbled though, and he doesn’t like it, the effect HYDRA still has on his head, so he ushers everyone inside the jet, pushing Y/N particularly hard when she takes too long, earning a punch from her on his shoulder after she regains her footing.

“What the hell Barnes!” she yells at him “You could at least wait until the mission is over to start pushing me around” But he is too tired to think of a particularly harsh remark, so he simply shrugs her off, marveling at her anger.

“Next time I’ll leave you out there to die, doll. Don’t worry.”

He can’t lie and say he expected her shoe being thrown at his head.

It’s after he’s taken a shower and changed into something a lot more comfortable that he approaches her. Y/N sits at the breakfast bar, a Poptart shoved into her mouth as she stirs her cup of coffee. She looks ridiculous, and Bucky almost hesitates, wondering if he really wants to do this, but then his gaze lands on the real estate page open on the laptop in front of her, and he decides it’s better to get it over with.

“How’s apartment hunting?” He asks, echoing Clint’s earlier question as he grabs the seat beside her.

Her eyebrow shoots up and he can almost see the cogs working in her head, questioning his intents, wondering if he has some kind of prank planned out for her. It’s out of character for him to talk to her without a snarky comment or some devious ulterior motive, so he quickly adds, “You should really consider selling that kidney, doll,” throwing in a smirk for good measure.

She continues to look at him for a moment, face pulled into a grimace of mock disgust. “What do you want, Barnes?” She says finally through a mouthful of Poptarts. Her head turns back to the laptop, scrolling through different apartment postings, half of them overpriced, the other half in shambled states that should be illegal to live in.

“I was thinking–”

“That’s a first.”

“I know an apartment you could live in. Five star quality at a quarter of the rent,” he says, pointing to the image currently up on the screen – a mouldy flat with stains on the carpets and newspapers for windows – for added benefit.

Y/N looks at him again, eyes wide and head pulled back with surprise. “You?”

He shrugs. “Yeah, me.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

It’s a good question. A really good question, actually. Everyone in the tower knows that if there’s one person that’s bound to end up dead, it’s either him or Y/N at the hand of the other. And Y/N, well, she’s a mess in every sense of the word: too feisty, too tired, and too much of an idiot. It’s a deal worth making, though, because she’s the only one that needs an apartment to stay in and the offer of paying half the rent is too good to give up.

“Why does it matter?”

She gives him a long, hard look, with an eyebrow arched up in suspicion and lips pursed together. After a moment, she speaks up, words still chosen carefully and a look of distrust still on her face. “No, I’m good, thanks.”

He’s almost dumbfounded, because someone would have to be outright ignorant to not see how good of an offer this is. Granted, him and Y/N aren’t exactly the working definition of friends, or even civil acquaintances for that matter. And yeah, sure, Bucky isn’t doing anything to fix that - but still! He’s waving NYC top notch hotel-quality rooming at maybe a quarter of the price in her face, and she’s still saying no.

“Alright, fine by me. But if you change your mind, you know where to find me, doll.”

And then he’s almost out of the room, one foot just over the threshold, when he hears her voice. And for the first time in his entire life, it makes him smile. “Bucky, wait!”

He turns around, eyebrows raised in question, knowing smirk on his face. “Yeah?”

She hesitates, eyes flicking back and forth between the gross apartment pictured on the screen and Bucky’s face. She says something – an angry, incoherent grumble, that sounds something like a grunt of agreement.

“What?” Bucky urges, and he knows he’s pushing buttons at this point because she might snap at any moment. (But that’s half the fun.) He sees the twitch in her jaw, the longer-than-necessary intake of breath, then–


“Fine what?”

“Fine. I’ll check this apartment out.”

And it takes everything Bucky has to keep his suave demeanor and maintain a straight face as he responds, “Great! I’ll show you my place tomorrow.”


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You’re not going to imply that I’m any less Sofia’s mother because we don’t share the same DNA. Because that would be offensive. It would be offensive to anyone in the room who has an adoptive child or is an adoptive child. And for you to say that… I chose to be Sofia’s mother. It did not fall into my lap. There was a choice and I could stay or I could run. And I chose motherhood. And it was the best choice that I ever made.

Habits - Part 2

Sofia’s Masterlist | Sneha’s Masterlist

(part 1) (part 3)


Finding a place to live in New York City is harder than you thought, and yet when Bucky Barnes makes you an offer you can’t reject, you think your bad luck with hideous apartments might be over. The catch? You two can’t stand each other. (Living with him can’t be that bad, can it?)

Warnings: swearing

Word count: 1214

A/N: Part two to the series co-written entirely by myself and the lovely Sofia (@buckyslion​)

Originally posted by coporolight

Bucky wasn’t lying when he said “five-star quality.” His place is the New York City dream, with large tinted windows that look out over the city’s skyline and a navy blue and white colour scheme that you wouldn’t have ever deemed him capable of maintaining. (Because, let’s be real, Bucky Barnes doesn’t scream stylish when he walks around in a pair of old sweats and a tshirt all day).

Speaking of, you can see Bucky’s smug face from the corner of your eye. He’s leaning against the pillar, eyes trained on you with that godawful omnipresent smirk on his face. You know he saw your sharp intake of breath when you walked in, and you know he knows the answer to his unasked question.

“Great! So we can do all the paperwork later this week, and you can move in whenever.”

You swivel around to face him, eyes narrowed. “I never said I accepted your offer.”

He smiled, showing his teeth this time. “Doll, you didn’t even have to.”

You moved in. Of course you did. At the end of the week you’d shoved all your stuff into a suitcase and then dumped it into the spare room at Bucky’s, filling the room with pictures and clothes and even a plant you got from god-knows-where in a matter of hours. It’s worked out surprisingly nicely since then, mainly because Bucky and you are never home at the same times, which means you don’t have to see his smug face or listen to his stupid voice. The nights are quiet too (you’re a heavy sleeper for the most part, and that might have something to do with it.)

It’s only a week later, when Bucky returns from a mission that you get to experience the joy (!) that is sharing an apartment with him. And the moment you hear something banging against the furniture somewhere in the living room, you remember why you were so skeptical of moving in with him in the first place.

At first, your hazy mind doesn’t even register the sound, but something smashing against the floor makes you bolt up in an instant, all your military training and instincts kicking in as you scramble inside your drawer for your gun. You find it,  cock it, and hold it at the ready, your heart thumping against your chest. It’s late at night, and HYDRA’s still a threat. Especially at Bucky’s house.

Except it’s not HYDRA. It’s not a break in, or anything that requires the slightest use of your military training, because the source of the noise is the asshole himself, standing in the middle of the kitchen, surrounded by pieces of broken porcelain. You lower the gun, and you’re sure he can feel you rolling your eyes. (And he damn well should.)

“What in god’s name are you doing?”

“Oops.” Oops. Fucking oops. Not only is he smashing plates around at an ungodly hour, but he has the audacity to brush it off with an oops.

You squint your eyes at him in disbelief, and he stares right back. There’s a devious smile on his face as his fingers wrap around your favourite mug, a cheap thing you got on a whim during your visit to Niagara Falls when you were a kid.

“What are you doing, Barnes?” Your voice has reached a dangerously low pitch.

His smirk doesn’t fade as he picks it off of the shelf that you so graciously placed it on a few days ago. He examines it, turning it around in his hands, scrunches his nose in disgust, and then throws it across the room, the mug smashing into a million pieces against one of the walls.

You’re sure your eyes are the size of saucers. “Are you fucking insane?”

“We need new dishes,” he shrugs. “Besides, that mug was ugly anyway.”

Breathe, Y/N. Count backwards from ten. Relax. The words of years of military therapy flood your mind as you all but smash his head against the wall, much like he did your mug, because what kind of obnoxious, messed up idiot breaks dishes on purpose, let alone at three in the fucking morning?

“So you just, what? Decide to throw them against the fucking wall?” If Bucky’s even the slightest bit terrified by the shrillness of your voice, he doesn’t show it, leaning casually against the kitchen counter instead.

After a moment of smiling, he shrugs again. “Well, I dropped one. Figured I might as well get rid of the rest. All the plates were chipped anyway.”

“What kind of person does that?”

“My house, my rules.” he says, and you’re one split second away from using the gun that’s now safely tucked into your pyjama pants.

You’re too tired to yell at him, so you settle for a dangerous glare and a threatening finger pointing at him instead. “You’re an asshole, Barnes. A fucked up asshole. And you owe me a new mug,” you tell him as you return to your room, rubbing sleep from your eyes and toying with your gun, seriously considering it for future use. “And you’re cleaning that up!” You yell, right before closing your bedroom door, leaving him to handle the mess.


Two days later, you wake up to a loud banging on your door, before it opens completely, revealing a half naked Barnes in nothing but a towel covering his lower half. Your eyes don’t even travel that far down his body though, because you’re stuck staring at the mess he calls his hair.

It’s pink.

Neon pink.

You try your best at feigning innocence, attempting to keep a straight face. “What’s wrong?”

He’s seething, you can tell. He clenches and unclenches his fists, nostrils flaring and breathing in and out slowly, a muscle ticking in his jaw. You want to laugh, yell ‘karma’s a bitch’ right in his face, but the effect of pretending like it’s no big deal is so much greater.

He glares at you, then points to his head. “What the fuck is this?”

“Your hair?”

He runs his tongue over his teeth. “I know it’s my hair, you idiot. Believe it or not my brain still works after hearing your voice on the regular. What I don’t understand is, why the fuck is it pink?”

You shrug. “I don’t know Barnes, it’s your hair, not mine.”

“How do I fix it?” There’s a tinge of desperation in his voice, and you almost feel bad. But then the image of your mug shattering into a million pieces flashes in your mind, and all remorse is replaced with the satisfaction at seeing him so distressed.

“Your hair, you figure it out.” He’s frustrated. His face is red, a vein showing in his arm, and he looks like he’s going to spontaneously combust.

He opens his mouth to say something, but a beep from your phone cuts him off, and before he can storm at you, you’re lifting a finger, effectively shutting him up.

“Well, look at that,” you show him your screen, where Steve’s message is displayed. He takes a moment to read it, face growing redder by the second.

Urgent mission briefing in twenty. Please be there.

“I guess you’ll have to figure it out after our meeting.”

Tags are open (and below cut)

Keep reading


-after all this time, they still don’t have proper nicknames for each other, but along the way they just watched the other do a stupid thing and named that person that stupid thing for a week or so (“TOLIET-CLOGGER TIME FOR DINNER” “THE KING OF CAMELOT DOES NOT RESPOND TO RIDICULOUS NICKNAMES THAT ARE UNWORTHY OF MY TASTE” “YOU JUST RESPONDED TOLIET-CLOGGER” “BULLOCKS”)

-tedros is the romantic one, giving agatha tulips and other flowers that she likes and giving her 120+ cakes of her choice every week. but between the two of them, agatha is the sentimental one that always remembers the things tedros loves and cherishes (like how she gave him a golden-haired puppy at the end of valentine’s day or how she always gives tedros merlin’s hot chocolate that he loves whenever he has a bad day)

-who’s the more jealous one? obviously agatha (3rd book is proof) whenever she and tedros go for a walk in their kingdom, there’s some girls giving him flirty looks and agatha sees these and gives them all her famous “graveyard agatha glare” and they scramble. throughout all this, tedros just laughs silently and tugs her closer by the waist (but throughout the years, agatha looked more regal and more beautiful and this one time, a few village boys flirted with agatha and when tedros saw hE EXPLODED WITH JEALOUSY AND ANGER AND ALMOST STABBED EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THOSE BOYS WITH HIS SWORD BUT AGATHA STOPPED HIM IN TIME LAUGHING THE ENTIRE TIME)

-tedros, the impulsive one; agatha, the logical one (tedros would always jump straight into battle with agatha yelling after him the pros and cons of the situation and when it’s all over and tedros gets injured, agatha fixes the wound and says “i told you so”)

-tedros gives agatha more kisses than she does to him (nECK KISSES ARE AGATHA’S WEAKNESS) (EAR NIPS ARE TEDROS)

-the royal advisors wanted to teach agatha to dance for balls and galas and for the next few days, she fainted each and every time (SHE DOESN’T LIKE TO TALK ABOUT IT) but once tedros tried to teach her, she managed to stay conscious the whole time

-TEDROS ALWAYS USES ALL THE HOT WATER AND AGATHA ALWAYS COMPLAINS HOW INCONSIDERATE AND SELFISH HE IS WITH WATER AND TEDROS JUST RESPONDS WITH “maybe next time, you could join me in my baths so you won’t complain so much anymore and actually enjoy bath time”



-who slams the oven door and who plays the trombone: agatha plays, tedros slams

-whenever tagatha is alone with merlin, they get really REALLY uncomfortable because merlin always tells them his own headcanons of their interesting child or children (BECAUSE HE JUST SHIPS THEM THAT FREAKING HARD MAN) (PLUS WE ALL KNOW THAT THEY’RE GONNA HAVE MORE THAN ONE CHILD GUYS LIKE HONESTLY HAVE YOU SEEN THE FANART ????)

-agatha loves roaming around the royal gardens and sometimes when tedros has time from his royal duties, they play hide-or-seek or chase each other around in the hedge maze or just make out in the flowers ;))

-whenever agatha gets really close to tedros, he always smells SO FREAKING GOOD SO SHE CAN’T HELP BUT KISS HIM WHEREVER THEY ARE HAHAHAHAHHAA

-tedros says “i’m too hot” agatha says “hot da—not”

-when tedros and agatha decide to sleep together (JUST SLEEP) reaper always comes at midnight and sleeps on tedros face (agatha keeps count of how many times reaper has done this) (so far it’s 26 times that reaper slept on tedros’ face and it’s 34 times that tedros woke up screaming with his hand to his face, due to some false alarms) (agatha cackles every time)

-tagatha sharing beverages together at their thrones with their fabulous sunglasses on (they even do that cute couple thing where they share a drink and have different colored straws to drink out of) (when agatha doesn’t look, tedros takes a drink out of her straw) (agatha knows but she doesn’t say anything about it)

-tagatha cuddling and reading and giggling and laughing together in the alcoves in the library

-tagatha dancing together — in formal clothing or pajamas :))