and goes through a window

Auditory Processing Problems

• *someone says something* “what?” *repeats themselves* “sorry?” *repeats themselves again* “pardon?”

•"hey, y'see the red thing at the top of the shelf, will you get it?“ "Sorry, what?” “On the sh-” “oh yeah sure, I’ll get it.”

•*doesn’t hear teacher because someone’s pen is making a scratchy sound at the back of the room*

•*replays video 10 ten times to figure out what they’re saying*

•teachers asking, “why do you always stop writing in the middle of a sentence, just write down whatever I’m saying,” followed by the response, “I’m just processing it,” rebuked by, “we’ll stop processing it and just write.”

•*gets really focused on staring out the window and goes through four songs without hearing a single on*

poe dameron causes destruction wherever he goes and yells “put it on my tab!” as he crashes through the window in a dramatic exit

and a week later he shows up with his space checkbook to pay his tab and tip the servo-droids, because he is a Good Space Boy From A Good Space Family

  • APH Denmark: *giggling at his phone*
  • APH Norway: Why are you so damn happy?
  • APH Denmark: Nothing, nothing *giggles*
  • APH Norway: ...
  • APH Norway: Dan...
  • APH Norway: We have talked about this.
  • APH Norway: STOP SENDING PHOTOS OF CHEAP FURNITURE TO SWEDEN.
  • Meanwhile...
  • APH Sweden: *looking angry at his phone*
  • APH Finland: *sigh*
  • APH Finland: He is doing it again, right?
  • APH Sweden: HE WON'T STOP.
  • APH Sweden: *throws the phone through the window*
  • APH Finland: There goes another phone.
Recommended Fics List

So, I have a bunch of fics in my likes that I like to read over and over again. Instead of reblogging them all, I figured I’d make a list with them for both my own, and everyone else’s benefit. I’ll try to update this every so often, and I hope you like these fics as much as I do. Credit goes to all the fic writers, you guys are amazing.

Keep reading

When Evan gets shoved on to the ground and called a ‘freak’ by Connor I get this weird feeling, especially as he goes into ‘Waving Through A Window’ because I got called the same name and rejected the same way, I used to talk and get called ‘weird’ but then when I stopped talking it changed to ‘don’t talk to her, she’s weird, she doesn’t answer you’ or they wouldn’t hear me in the first place if I did talk, because I’d purposefully answer quietly. Waving Through a Window really does explore what Social Anxiety does to you & how it can isolate you so completely and i’m just so glad to have found this play because I feel so understood for once. (please feel free to add your own experiences)

Chicago Gothic
  • The river is green for St. Patrick’s Day. Black for St. Scholastica’s Day. A sort of flat burnt ochre for Cashmere Polaski Day. Gone on alternate Tuesdays.
  • No matter how long it has been since it rained, a single drop of water falls on your neck when you pass under the trains. A train has never fallen on anybody, but every time you walk beneath them, you are certain today will be the day.
  • Every sandwich shop in the Loop closes at four. Every sandwich shop in the Loop goes dim and silent. Through the windows of every sandwich shop in the Loop, you can see faint shadows move, but when you look straight on, it’s only car headlights moving through the room. There are no cars.
  • The taxi drivers speak every language of the Earth, and a second, secret language known only to them. If you ask for Ogilvie Station and not Northwestern, you will never be seen again. This is as it should be.
  • In summer, scads of alewives wash up on the beaches. Beachgoers politely step around them, knowing that some morning soon, every fish corpse will be gone, and we will be safe for another year. We thank the alewives for their sacrifice.
  • You have never in your life missed your stop on the Red Line. Every moment, as the train squeals and sparks around you and the faceless masses of other passengers press, you believe you are missing your stop on the Red Line.
  • The snow is turning black. Maybe it came down that way. You don’t think about it. You just put down your folding chair (where did it come from) in your parking spot and head to work, avoiding the matte darkness of the slush. You go several blocks before you remember you don’t have a car.
  • The street grid falls apart where the Chicago Fire didn’t reach. What fay or eldritch symbol the seven-way intersection with two traffic islands and a wedge-shaped building form we do not know. Nor do we wish to.
  • The zoo hasn’t had elephants for years. Someday we’ll figure out who’s trumpeting at night.
3

Gif source:  Sam  |  Redwing

Imagine meeting Sam Wilson after the first test flight of his Redwing prototype goes awry and shatters through your window.

——— Request for Bixbi ———

When you’d heard the crash, you’d nearly dropped your cup of water, “What the hell?” Rushing into the other room, your eyes scan the walls until they meet the shattered window, the broken glass leading them to he culprit, which looked to be some kind of remote control flying toy, “Damn kids.”

You were grumbling to yourself as you moved towards it, watching it glitch out on your floor as it tried to get airborne again in vain, considering one wing was bent and broken, “Excuse me?”

You jump again, looking towards your broken window with wide eyes to find none other than a man in a suit with wings, flying outside your window apologetically, “What the hell?” The repetition makes him chuckle, before pointing towards the broken machine on your floor.

“My bad. Sorry about that,” he dips into your window easily enough, and surprisingly, considering the wingspan that he’d had a moment before. “I’m Sam Wilson, but you may know me as the Falcon.”

You frown, crossing your arms at the smiling man, “I know you as the guy who broke my window.”

Somehow, that only makes his smile widen as he nods, “Fair enough. How about I get that fixed?”

I love how its made obvious that Wesley is the one who keeps their companionship going. Like walking up to her in the halls and showing her his abs (and asking her to touch them), and talking to her at the party, and touching her when he goes to talk to her in chemistry class. And he looks through her window and sees what movie she’s watching sometimes. 

I wonder if he’s ever saw her watching a movie and watched part and decided it looked good enough to watch. 

Or just watched the movie through her window because homework is boring and ‘hey I just saw a guy get chased by a zombie’

/Wasuremono/

(n) forgotten or lost things; a notebook lost on a bus, a pencil left at school.

“Lost and forgotten. That’s all I feel…”

“Don’t we all?”

A/N: This amazing graphic made by my cool ass friend soulmate - @donttellme-byebye​. She be so cool, i cri :’)

//CHAPTER 1// CHAPTER 2// CHAPTER 3// CHAPTER 4// CHAPTER 4.5// CHAPTER 5// CHAPTER 6//


You shut your eyes instinctively against the sunlight streaming in through the windows the moment the alarm goes off. Groaning you lean towards your bedside table to pick up your phone, and that’s when you notice – it’s Saturday.

HECK YEAH! WEEKEND!

You fall back down on the bed, and a sigh of relief whooshes out. This week was something. Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday were like the slow climb up the roller coaster, and on Thursday, you hit free fall. It seemed like it would go downhill from there, but now, it seems like there might be ups, too.

You have no time to ponder on that, because that’s when your mom shouts from downstairs, probably the living room. “________, there’s a call for you!” A call for me? On the landline? Who did I ever give that number to? All you want to do is lay down in bed for longer, but you get up anyway, and head down.

With a seriously hoarse morning voice, you speak into the phone, “Hello?”, not knowing what to expect since your mother didn’t tell you who it is.

There’s a faint laugh from the other end, “Good morning~ I hope I didn’t wake you up or something…”

Truthfully, you recognized who it is the moment you heard the laugh. Taehyung. You start weaving your fingers through your hair, nervous about your appearance, irrationally yes, considering the fact no one can see except your mother, but you do it anyway.

“No, no. You didn’t. Almost. I woke up a minute before you called. It’s okay. And that explains my voice. That’s not important, is it? So, I would ask you why you called, but the more important question is, how in the heck did you get my landline number?” You know you’re rambling but you can’t help it. It’s Taehyung, the guy who got asked out by seventeen people, nine girls and eight guys, for the last spring dance. The guy who got the teachers to let him go when he dyed parts of his fringe green, by just talking. The guy to whom you bared your deepest doubts to two days ago. So yeah, the blabbering kind goes with it.

He’s chuckling at you again, “That, huh? I was trying to find you in my contacts to text you, and I realized that I didn’t even have your phone number, so I asked the school office and got this number out of the records. No biggie,”

“What do you mean, ‘no biggie’? I didn’t know they gave out phone numbers like that.”

“I just called in a favour, no biggie,”

“I feel like you have connections everywhere. You can call in a favour and get anything done, I don’t know how you do it…” You know exactly how. He’s too charming for his own good.

“So, I’ll come to the point, even though I can listen to your voice forever,” Blushing this much in a span of three days is probably not good for your health. You hear high pitched squealing from behind you, and you feel like face-palming. One, due to your stupid feelings. Two, because you’ve just realized your mom has been listening from the extension in the kitchen.

“Hobi-hyung mentioned this yesterday, I’m not sure if you remember, but there’s a musical going on at the university, Yoongi-hyung composed for it, and Jin-hyung is acting with Haneul-noona. We didn’t get the chance to go yet, and today’s the last show. I was wondering, actually, we all were wondering, only if you’re free, that maybe… you would come, too? Only if you’re free, mind you. It’s, uhh, okay if you aren’t,”

Saying you’re shocked will be the biggest understatement. Kim Taehyung was stuttering. While talking to you. While basically asking you out on date. Well, the last part… it wouldn’t be a date, right? It won’t be just the two of you. It’s everyone together. So….

“Oh…so you’re busy. It’s, it’s totally okay. Maybe some other time, yeah?” He’s clearly taken your silence negatively, so you splutter out quickly, not having a second thought, “What! No, no. I would love to go! It’s with you, of course I will! Uh, that came out wrong. Not like, with you, so I’ll go, but because it’s with everybody. By that, I don’t mean I wouldn’t go with just you, I would love that too… Umm, are you getting my point? I’m just…”

He’s laughing again. Great, the way you said it, he’ll be thinking you’re majorly crushing on him. And he’ll tell everyone about it. Wait, wait, wait, back up. Are you majorly crushing on him?

“No, _______, I would love going with just you too. Don’t get me wrong,” Did he just? You think, and it seems like your mom has had the same thought too because before she can stop herself, she lets out an ‘eep!’. Into the phone.

Now you really face-palm. “Is that…? Is that your mother?” You nod, forgetting you’re on the phone, but he seems to get it, “Oh! Good morning, Miss ________! Well, you heard what I said, is it okay if I steal ________-ah away from you today? I’ll bring her back safely. Scratch that, we’ll bring her back safely. She’s our maknae, we all look out for her,”

“Yes, yes. I’m happy that she’s taking part in social activities. She would’ve lazed around at home, anyway. Go ahead dear, I’m happy she’s got a date,”

“MOM!!!!”

“I get it, I get it. I’m leaving now, you can talk in private,” you can feel her grinning from ear to ear at this point.

“I’m really sorry about that, she’s was listening from the kitchen, I don’t why she does these things…”

“No, it’s okay, I think all moms are like that. I wish I could talk for longer, but…breakfast,” It’s your turn to chuckle, “It’s food, I get it. Priorities,”

“Ha, that’s the ultimate truth. Don’t worry though, you quite close to it on the list. So I’ll… we’ll pick you up before lunch. Around 12? We planned to go to Nino’s before the play,”

“That’s fine, you know my address, right?”

“Yes, it’s actually not that far from my house. I’ll see you then, bye _______-ah.”

“Sure! Bye Taehyung-ssi,” his cutting reply comes not one second after that, “What did I tell you yesterday, ________. Just call me oppa already,”

THUMP THUMP THUMP. Of course you remember yesterday. In vivid, high definition. Your heart was threatening to jump out your throat during lunch yesterday.

Seoyeon and Taehyung were still waiting for your answer. Jungkook wasn’t an option for help. SOMEONE SAVE ME, you thought. And that saviour, or saviours came in the form of Jung Hoseok and Song Yoonah. Coming up from behind you, Yoonah and Hoseok had scared your already on-the-edge self, shitless. The two seniors had come to the table, and settled in so seamlessly like they knew Jungkook and Seoyeon for years, being the extroverts they were. Most fortunately for you, due to the new additions to the conversation, everyone had quickly gotten distracted. But when the lunch bell finally rang, as everyone rushed off to their respective classes, Taehyung pulled you aside, “Whatever your answer was going to be ________-ah, just call me oppa from now on,” and left right after, leaving you dumbfounded in the middle of the hallway.

You return to the present day, after the brief flashback, “Y-yeah. B-Bye, oppa. See you later,” You cannot describe how hard it is to get that out.

“Finally, I got you to say it!” You’re sure he’s pumping his fist in the air. Your giggle cracks in your throat when the line cuts off right after he says, “and ________, could you dress up please? For me.”


A/N: Okay, there’s a very long explanation for this. But tl;dr - I was utterly dissatisfied with what I wrote previously. I recovered the chapter after the computer crash, but I felt it was crap, and I’m REALLY particular about quality. So, I completely changed it up, and re wrote! Again!

To, @jalaninaja, anon.insfires, and everyone who was looking forward to the next chapter- I’m super sorry this was so late. I’m not making promises, but from now on I’ll try my best to update regularly :)

CALFREEZY POST

So andrewawakens and I wasted our time and came up with these… Cal is sick: CalSneezy Cal is Ke$ha: CalSleazy Cal is Sonic: CalSpeedy Cal is deciduous: CalTreesy Cal is a fry: CalGreasy Cal needs something: CalPleasy Cal goes on a rollercoaster: CalScreamsy Cal applies concealer: CalCreasy Cal is shirtless: CalTeasy Cal is a fruit: CalPeachy Cal is a professor: CalTeachy Cal is a whale: CalBreachy Cal goes to Napa: CalBeachy Cal goes to church: CalPreachy Cal goes through puberty: CalScreechy Cal does ballet: CalLeapy Cal is a window washer: CalSqueegee Cal gets his brows done: CalFleeky

lance rarely sleeps in his own room b/c he can’t stand to sleep alone; he also switches up whose room he goes to based on what he wants/needs.
-he goes to pidge’s room when he needs noise and lights- pidge is a nightowl and is constantly tinkering with something in their room. it reminds lance of his neighborhood on earth-streetlights and alley sounds always streaming in through his window.
-he goes to hunk’s room when he misses his mom-hunk’s snores remind him of when he could hear his mother’s snoring through the wall between their rooms. hunk also has snacks he offers to lance.
-he goes to keith’s room when all he wants is to have someone else is there- keith lets him in and let’s lance in his bed w/o a word. lance listens to keith breathing and watches his chest rise and fall, lulled to sleep by keith’s silent presence
-he goes to shiro’s room when he needs comforting words and reassurance that they’ll make it home. shiro hugs him and rubs his back while he cries, then carries him into the bed when he’s too tired to hold himself up anymore. lance buries his head in shiro’s shoulder and sleeps without nightmares.

anonymous asked:

Prompt: during his travels/mission Sasuke hears that Sakura has temporarily moved to Suna for an extended mission. He hears rumors that Sakura and Gaara have gotten intimately close. He goes to investigate....

The Rock

Sasuke stares through the window of the Kazekage’s meeting room as he sees both Gaara and Sakura talking at a table. Sasuke grunts as it has been well over an hour and they were still conversing inside. With another stare, he rubs his fingers over the large rock in his hand as he tosses it in the air and plays with the rock.

He watches as Gaara begins to move and gets up from his seat to hover over Sakura’s shoulder to look at something… or perhaps, maybe doing something else. Sasuke’s mind snaps as he gets angry at what something else could possibly mean. With a raised hand, he brings his arm back over his head as he hurls the rock through the window. 

The window breaks as the rock flies in and lands on top of the table, a few feet from Gaara and Sakura’s position. The two glance at the rock in surprise as they both turn their head towards the broken window but the perpetrator was gone.

The door suddenly opens and Gaara sees his first advisor at the doorway. “Gaara-sama. A visitor is here to see you.”

Keep reading

@ferociousqueak wanted more of Shepard and the ghost house, and some stuff happened.

I think there may be another couple of chapters’ worth of this.

#

August

The house is suffused with quiet. Shepard has never lived anywhere like this before – not in the home of her youth, crowded with three younger brothers, not in the series of barracks and shipboard bunks that lasted her military career, not in her glitzy borrowed apartment on the Citadel. This house holds quiet like a sponge. Shepard wakes in the morning to sunlight arcing through her window and birds chirping, and goes to sleep with the sound of crickets.

There’s no sign of the ghost for the first few weeks. Shepard could almost believe she had just imagined it. Garrus says he hasn’t seen or heard or smelled anything out of the ordinary. He’s taking to this retreat better than she would have expected; he set up a workshop down in the basement, where there are long tables and a surprising amount of light. He plays music over his visor while he tinkers away, and sometimes hums along.

Shepard does a little digging and discovers that the previous occupant of the house was a middle-aged academic who taught literature at the college in the next town over. She’d lived here alone. It seems like a lot of house for one person; some days, it seems like a lot of house for Shepard and Garrus. They’re not even using all the space. They keep the guest rooms closed up, and they don’t have enough furniture of their own for the living room.

“Oh, she wasn’t alone,” says their neighbor, Patricia. “She always had students in and out. Let them stay the night sometimes, or during school breaks.”

Patricia lives half a mile down the road. She’d come over the second day with an apple pie, heaping with apples and cinnamon and brown, flaky crust. She’d apologized for not bringing anything for Garrus.

“She was a nice lady,” Patricia tells Shepard. “Kept to herself a lot, but never seemed lonely.”

Shepard mostly sees Patricia when she goes out for a run. If she goes the right direction, she loops past Patricia’s house, and sometimes Patricia’s out working in the garden, and Shepard slows down to say hello. One of those times, Shepard asks about the lights in the basement.

“She used to garden,” Patricia explains. “She’d start seeds down there in the winter.”

Shepard’s father had been an agronomist, but it was all large-scale, developing plants that would thrive on Mindoir. They’d had only a tiny garden and a couple of houseplants, no room for anything like that in their cramped little house.

“She had a lot of hobbies,” Patricia adds. “She didn’t garden so much, the last few years before. Don’t know if she got bored with it, or if her arthritis was acting up.”

Shepard thanks her and starts her run home. In the warm glow of movement, sweat prickling along her scalp and trickling between her shoulder blades, she thinks about their predecessor. It sounds like a nice life. Quiet. Reading good books, teaching young people, going home to her peaceful house and her garden. It’s the kind of life Shepard has never had, nor ever particularly aspired to have, back when she was a restless kid. Even then, before the attack, before everything, she’d thought vaguely about enlisting.

And now… here she is, not yet forty, but with her military career behind her, and the rest of her life stretching ahead.

When she arrives back at the house, she surveys the clumps of plants on either side of the front door and wonders if she can tell the difference between plants put there on purpose and weeds. Maybe the extranet will tell her, and later she can come out and yank out some of the weeds.

Shepard climbs the front steps and enters the house. Inside, the kitchen smells like turian spices, not like tea and cookies.

Keep reading

  • *brick with a note attached crashes through window*
  • me [reading note]: im going to get you, Lyle
  • me: dammit, i got the neighbour's mail again
  • me: *goes next door and chucks brick through neighbour's window*