and why i put my settings up

voltron characters as stuff my siblings have said
  • allura: i'm just gonna fucking marry my hamster, none of you are invited to the wedding, get fucked
  • coran: when i was a kid we used to make balloons out of sheep bladders
  • shiro: hey so, weird question but what would one do if they hypothetically set their microwave on fire?
  • keith: if you ever touch my stuffed animals again i will stab you in the eye
  • hunk: why would you put carrots in cake, carrots are vegetables, you wouldn't put broccoli in a muffin
  • lance: i've knitted scarves for every single one of you and if you don't wear them i will cry in front of mom
  • pidge: i swear i wasn't the one who threw the tv out the window! look at my arms, i can't even lift a grape!
A temp I barely knew was actively trying to get me fired behind my back.

This happened a while ago but decided to post today as she rang a member of the office and used the threat of unfair dismissal claim if she wasn’t given a good reference. Not sure if it belongs in here or not.

TL:DR An office temp I’d spoken to a handful of times conspires to have me fired without my knowledge. It’s a very long story so be warned it’s a bit of a vent.

So, we had a temp covering maternity leave that turned out to be a bit of a nutjob. She was EA to Deputy CEO and seemed to think this gave her some sort of status. We’ll call her the temp. I’d spoken to her twice maybe three and was incredibly nice; I make it my business to be nice to everyone. What she didn’t know is that from about a week after she started I knew she was sending daily complaints (all unfounded and untrue) to my manager about me. My manager and I get on socially and professionally and he was dumbfounded by her doing this. I still have no idea, why she did it to me either and until today I’d put her out of my mind.

We are talking 3 or 4 complaints a day and asking for stuff to be taken further and why wasn’t I getting warned/reprimanded, whatever?

Keep reading

Hold Me

Originally posted by alphabetbet

Raphael x Reader

Hold Me

Prompt: Could you write a Raph one where his s/o is in a random mood for major cuddles and he gives in to her cravings for affection and practically showers her in it with lots of fluff??? Thanks! 😄😄😄

You stared at your phone for a few long moments. You needed cuddles. And you needed them now. You picked up your phone and pulled up Raph’s contact and punched in a text.

Hey.

Hey.

Can you come over? Pretty, pretty please?

Yeah, why?

I’m looooonely. And booooored. And…I really need someone to cuddle with.

Do ya think I’m some sorta personal teddy bear, shorty?

Pleeeeeaaaaaase?

The guys are gonna tease me.

Then don’t tell them.

Raph?

U there?

Idk if you’re worth gettin’ teased over…

Raaaaaaaaph.

Hush. I’m comin’. Give me a minute.

Yesssssss.

Dork.

You love it.

I know. Yer lucky I care.

I know.

You waited for the big buff turtle in red to show up at your window. He wasn’t your boyfriend, despite the feelings you hoped he shared. But God, you wanted him to be your boyfriend. Personally, Raphael hadn’t asked you out for one reason: he though he wasn’t good enough for you. You were pretty, smart, funny, and worst of all…you were human. A pretty, smart, funny human girl could have any guy on the face of the earth. Why would you want a mutant reject that lived in the sewers?

But nonetheless, he showed up at your window a few minutes later, heart pounding and extremely nervous for whatever was going to come next. Sure, the two of you had had movie nights, but you had never cuddled. Ever. He wasn’t even sure why you had asked him to come here to satisfy your craving for touch.

Three taps on the window signaled his arrival. You slid the window up and helped him clamber inside. He looked down at you in your cute little Deadpool onesie. And though he tried to ignore it, he couldn’t deny that you looked good in red. Really good.

“Well, you look cozy.” He smirked. You smiled.

“Picked out a movie for us.”

“Oh yeah? Which one?”

“Fantastic Four.”

“Are ya kiddin’ me?”

“Nope.”

“Yer kiddin’ me. Didn’t that bomb?”

“Yeah, but…” you blushed at the thought that ran through your head. “Nevermind. Just settle in. I’ll make the popcorn. Wanted it to be fresh.”

He watched you run off to the kitchen while he got settled in your bed. It creaked under his weight. God, sometimes he forgot how heavy he was. How huge he was. And then there was you, this delicate little flower that he was so scared he would break.

Every time he thought about you, his heart did a backflip. The mere inkling of you was enough to drive him crazy. The thought of your tiny little hands in his, your tiny little feet and all of your adorable human toes. And then came the thoughts of how your skin would feel against his, how soft and silky it must be compared to his rough scales and callouses.

He exhaled a sigh, mentally scolding himself. There was no reason to tease himself with something he couldn’t have.

“Comfy?” You asked, setting the popcorn on the table beside your bed, which was pushed up against the wall. Raph was hunkered into your mound of pillows, half laying down, half propped up.

“Y-yeah. Sure am.” He wanted to punch himself for stuttering. You smirked a little and hopped into the bed beside him, transitioning to a comfy position laying on top of him, head pressed against his plastron. And there, thump-thumping in his chest was his heart. You smiled as you listened to it hammer, faster and faster with each second you were there with him. “Am I doin’ this right?”

“Doing what right?”

“You know…cuddlin’. Or whatever.” He paused, exhaling a somewhat embarrassed breath. “I ain’t exactly a pro.”

“You’re doing fine.” You giggled. “Just…here.” You pulled one of his muscular arms around your back and snuggled deeper into his plastron. “Perfect.”

“All right. Good.” He grabbed a handful of popcorn with his free hand and you started the movie.

***

“So which of ‘em’s yer favorite?” he asked as the credits rolled. Your heart hammered. Here was the moment. The moment you were hoping he would set up. And now you could finally take the opportunity laid out before you.

“The Thing.” You replied casually. He let out a little breath of surprise.

“Why’s that?”

“Because…” You blushed as deep as Raph’s mask. “I like my guys big and strong and a little rough around the edges.” You shrugged. “But I mean, where would I ever find a guy like that?”

“Yer sayin’…” It took him a few seconds to put the pieces together. “Me. Ya…ya like me.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“The reasons previously stated, and also: you might not admit it, but you, Raphael, are a huge softy and I love that.”

“I ain’t soft.”

“Look at us right now.”

“Point taken.”

“And your eyes are gorgeous.”

“Umm…”

“And you’re super buff and brave, and you’ve saved the world like twice and-”

“Why not Leo?” Raph’s words caused a sudden silence.

“What?”

“Leo’s all ‘uh those things. He could treat ya right.”

“Okay, but I don’t love Leo, Raph. I love you.”

“Y-you what?” Raph almost choked.

“I. Love. You.”

“I l-love you too.” He paused, mulling over the exchange that had just gone down. “So then are we…are ya my girlfriend?”

“Do you want me to be your girlfriend?”

“Hell yeah.”

“Then I think that answers that question, boyfriend.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek. And then it hit you. That was the first kiss he had ever received. Ever. The blush that spread across his cheeks only confirmed your theory. You were not going to let this moment pass without taking it one baby step further. You pressed a soft hand against his rough face and turned it to face you. His eyes darted from your lips back to your eyes and he gulped, green eyes wide as you leaned closer to him.

Raphael decided in a single moment that your lips were the softest things on earth. They were also the sweetest things he had ever tasted, freshly coated in cherry lip gloss. Bright and red and now they were his to kiss whenever he wanted. This night had taken an unexpected turn indeed. But he couldn’t complain. He would never complain, so long as he had you.

“So uh…now what?” He asked after a long pause.

“Well…we could pop in another movie and cuddle some more, or we could go back to the lair and brag to your brothers.” You suggested. Raph smirked, imagining the look on Leo’s dumb face when he came home with a girlfriend.

“We’re goin’ to the lair.”

“That’s what I thought.”

HOW TO STAY MOTIVATED AS AN ENTREPRENEUR

I believe motivation is highly subjective and that each person has a unique motivational catalyst. So this post isn’t actually written to motivate you (LOL). What this post will do, however, is give you 3 distinct suggestions on how you can generally stay motivated by yourself. These are based on observations made in my brief time working with entrepreneurs. Of course, like with anything, this is not a closed list.


1. Have Passion For What You Do:

You’ve heard this plenty of times, I know, it’s annoying to me too. But we wouldn’t hear it so often if it wasn’t so important.

Steve Jobs, when addressing a crowd at his alma mater, famously said “You’ve got to find what you love. And that is as true for your work as it is for your lovers.

Do what you love, and not in an airy fairy, kumbaya kind of way. If you derive actual pleasure from what you do, you are likely to be more motivated than the average person. It follows that people who do what they love will approach their work with a guaranteed level of enthusiasm. I don’t think this needs a great deal of explanation.


2. Find A Suitable Co-Founder:

Some of the best companies in the world were started by co-founders (e.g. Apple, Microsoft, Procter & Gamble, etc.). Often, a start-up is launched and maintained through a combination of expertise, which, for complex projects, is hardly ever held by a single person. Sometimes it takes 2 or 3 people to start a project. So the importance of compatible co-founders cannot be stressed enough.

Like with every endeavour, there will be challenges that dampen the passion. The honeymoon period WILL end, and co-founders need to understand their effect on each other because this can serve as the necessary spark to push each other forward. During a slump in motivation, if you don’t feel more motivated after speaking with your co-founder, he or she may not be the right person for you to work with.

Some questions you should ask about your co-founder - When you are not feeling your best will they be able to take control? Do they create a mood which is conducive to productivity? How do you feel after talking to them about a hurdle you are facing? Do they actually have the capacity to perform the tasks that are needed to drive the project forward?

To achieve the best results, be brutally honest with yourself when answering these questions. Based on your answers, you may need to make some changes.

I left the first business I started at University because I could no longer work with my co-founder. The person whom I had originally chosen as my co-founder because of his technical knowledge of the (media) industry became the reason for my loss of enthusiasm. I am not sure what the root cause was, but my co-founder started developing a habit of killing the business relationships I had worked hard to build (and other bad habits, which are best left unmentioned). In turn, our reputation as a serious business began to take a knock. But this wasn’t yet the issue. The real issue was his inability to realise his problem, and then act in accordance with such realisation. 

Needless to say, I was brutally honest with myself - I just did not believe that he had the capacity to perform necessary tasks anymore, so I cut all professional ties with him.


3. Figure Out Your Motivational Currency

I define motivational currency as: a positive response which fuels the desire to be productive.

For example, I run a consulting business. Now, as much as I love what I do, there are mornings which feel completely hopeless (because - life) and my reason for continuing has escaped me. However, my mood suddenly changes when I get up from my bed, check my mail, and find an email from an entrepreneur requesting my services. After viewing this email, I feel a new energy, a sense of purpose, which prompts me to keep going. I am motivated, and the email is my motivational currency. 

If you are an outdoor event organiser whose event receives good reviews on social media and in the local papers, such reviews are your motivational currency because they prompt you to repeat the amount of effort put into your work, in pursuit of the same or an even better response from your market. 

This type of “currency” is different for different businesses, and is usually controlled by external factors. We cannot determine when motivational currency will be forthcoming, but the more work we put in, the more motivational currency we are likely to receive. (i.e. the more good work I do for my existing clients, the more likely I am to wake up to an email requesting my services.)


Conclusion:

Staying motivated is, in my opinion, the most important thing for any entrepreneur. You can do anything you set your mind to with the right amount of motivation. Conversely, you can do very little without it. This is why it is crucial for entrepreneurs to find what motivates them, and have ready access to it whenever it’s needed.

So print this. Put it on your wall, and highlight the points which speak to you the most. Every time you feel demotivated, give it a quick read, and remind yourself of the ways in which you can regain your motivation.

As always, thanks for reading. I promise to make it a shorter read next time.

clockways  asked:

Donated! I know totally off comic basis, but I feel something with Kamala taking up the Captain America mantle would be fitting for this donation if you're up for that.

“Going to space?” Kamala asked, brow furrowing. “What do you mean going to space?” 

Steve, at the kitchen counter of the mansion, offered her a mug of tea. “I’m going to space. Spartax – Peter’s people – is very unstable right now, and the galactic council wants a diplomatic envoy from Earth.”

“It’s a trap,” Kamala said. 

“It’s not a trap, M&M,” Steve said with a grin.

“I’m twenty-five, Steve, I no longer thrill and do anything you ask because you call me some nickname Tony made up for me a billion years ago.”

Steve’s grin widened. “Well, couldn’t hurt to try.”

Kamala rolled her eyes. 

“Look, sometimes superheroing is punching people in the face and sometimes it’s going on a six-month leave to help a foreign country stabilize. Earth is…unique in the stars, Kamala. The other races are a little afraid of us, and they want to control us because they think we have power.”

“Earth is the Jedi,” Kamala said, and then muttered Nerd to herself.

“The rest of space certainly seems to think so,” Steve replied, reassuringly. “I can use that to our advantage. I can advocate for the planet, defend it, and help one of the most dangerous imperial forces in the galaxy move towards true democracy. I can’t turn that down.”

“Is Tony going?”

“No. Carol’s considering it, and a few others, but for now I’m the only one confirmed, which is why I wanted to talk to you.” 

“I can’t go,” Kamala said. “I’m in the middle of my thesis.” 

“That wasn’t what I was going to ask, though this may also interrupt your thesis briefly,” Steve said. He reached for the shield on his back, unhooked it, and set it on the counter. Kamala, like she always did, put out a hand almost unconsciously and tapped on it, as if reassuring herself it was still real. 

“I want you to be Captain America while I’m gone,” he said. She looked up at him sharply. “Not pose as me, that’s not what I’m asking. My absence will be public. I want you to be Cap while I’m off planet.” 

Her jaw dropped. “Not Sam? Not Eli or – or Alex or Miles – “ 

“No. I didn’t even ask them. You’re my first choice.“ He gave her a gentle grin. “Honestly, I wanted one of the younger folk to do it, one of the All News or the Youngs or one of the Jean Grey School kids. When I thought it over, you’re the most grounded, the most suited to it. You’re going to get a lot of flak for it and you’re the best at dealing with that, too.”

“So basically I’ve been working really hard and you give me more work,” she said to him, a smile spreading across her face.  

“It’s the unfairness of life,” he agreed. “When you prove you’re good at something we keep making you do more of it. There’s a political aspect to it – you’re NuHuman and the Inhumans will support you – but that was a minor consideration.” 

“Seriously, though, Steve? Me as Cap?”

“You’ll have to have your own uniform made, and I’ll need to train you on the shield, if you say yes.”

Kamala looked at the shield again. “Can I pick it up?”

“I don’t know, M&M,” Steve said, eyes bright. “Can you?” 

She slid her fingers under the rim of the shield and found the straps, pulling it onto her arm. He watched as she drew it up, close to her body, tipped out so she could consider it.

“Yeah,” she said. “I think I can.” 

First of all, sorry for the slow responses! I forgot that I had to work a shift today, so I wasn’t around all afternoon. Which didn’t leave much time for me to write, but here I am, so lets do this (until I inevitably disappear to get some sleep)! Also I’ve gotten some very lovely asks but I wanted to write this down before I forgot. I thought of this headcanon while I was working and it’s too damn good not to share:


Alright, this happens at some point after CW but before Thanos shows up. The team (without Bucky, who’s still in Wakanda, working on getting his head cleared) is back in the US, having signed some form of revised accords. Steve is no longer team leader, but otherwise they’ve gotten off fairly easily with little repercussions. The tension between the old and new Avengers is obvious and especially Tony is met with outright hostility. It doesn’t help that Rhodey still isn’t in any shape to join the fights and is rarely around.

One day Clint signs Tony up for a parenting class. It’s another not-nicely-meant joke because of all the criticism Tony’s gotten for letting Peter fight. Only, the thing nobody expected? Tony actually goes. Because apparently he’s just that masochistic (apparently part of him still desperately wants to fix, to work things out between them). It earns him a lot of harsh ridicule, but Tony finishes it all the same.

Thing is, the Team Cap is so busy making fun of him, they don’t even notice when things start changing. Little things. When Steve walks into an argument between Clint and Tony and asks the latter “What have you done now?” disappointedly, Tony doesn’t snap something, get defensive or flee. He says “Have you ever noticed that you’re always immediately assuming I’m the one who has done something?”. It earns him another hurtful comment from Clint, and the incident is forgotten.

Until. Until, one day, during a debrief, Steve snaps. “She’s just a kid, Tony!” he yells when Tony keeps insisting on harder training for Wanda.

There’s a moment of silence, before, “Oh. Really? Does everyone agree with that?”

“You’re still not done catching up, Stark? So much for the futurist,” Clint sneers, and the matter is dropped. Or so it appears.

For the rest of the meeting, Tony is quiet. Thoughtful. In retrospect, they should’ve taken it for the warning it was.

That evening, when Wanda orders a new dress online, FRIDAY dispassionately informs her the transaction is impossible, as the price goes beyond her monthly allowance.

After a fruitless shouting match with the AI, she goes to Steve. Who (after a just as fruitless shouting match) goes to Tony. Who shrugs. “You told me she’s just a kid. Nobody, not even she herself, disagreed. I’m treating her like one.”

Suddenly, M-rated movies are inaccessible whenever Wanda is in the room. Once her curfew is reached, all electric devices go into sleeping modus (unless in case of an emergency of course). Talking with Tony, screaming at Tony, proves to be completely useless. Tony refuses to budge. Repeats lessons from his parenting class, about enforcing rules and teaching children boundaries.

And it doesn’t end there. The entire team is cut off from Tony’s money–Steve has to admit, he’s entitled to that, and maybe the team has gotten a bit too used to throwing Tony’s money around. That’s not the bad part anyways, they all have their own salaries from the government, they can still live. Just maybe a little more limited than before.

But suddenly the services they’ve become accustomed to are cancelled. They have to buy groceries themselves. There is no cleaning crew after Wanda throws a temper tantrum–she has to clean it herself or one of her ‘staunch defenders’, as Tony calls them, has to do it for her. New furniture doesn’t magically appear out of thin air, they have to buy it. And suddenly–suddenly the costs are starting to add up.

There’s a list pinned to the fridge one morning–on paper even–with their chores, going from doing the dishes to the laundry, that rotate every week. Who hasn’t fulfilled his one has to do all the chores the next week. FRIDAY keeps track of it, and barring missions and injuries, there are no exceptions.

Being grounded is an honest to god possibility now, including all electronics, for when they break one of the House Rules. And they are all enforced ruthlessly.

They all try to talk to Tony about it–they aren’t children, they don’t have to put up with this shit, it wasn’t funny to begin with, when is he gonna stop this already–but he remains unmoved.

It’s all “You told me Wanda is a kid,” and “I am allowed to set rules, considering you’re living under my roof. And there really is no excuse for breaking them, you are all aware they exist and why. They’re reasonable and you know it.”

And the most damning of them all. “If you’re so grown up and independent, you know where the door is. Walk out. This isn’t a prison, and you’re always welcome back, provided that you’re following the rules. You can walk away any time you want.”

Suffice to say, Clint is getting a lot of shit for signing Tony up for that parenting class. (Tony tells him he really appreciates it because clear communication is important.)

BTS Reacts - Asking Them To Sing You To Sleep

Yoongi: He doesn’t think of himself as someone who could sing very well, so when he listens to your request, he protests a little, ‘You know I’m a rapper, right?’ He’s worried his throaty voice wouldn’t ease you into sleep; if there were a piano in the room, he’d play that instead. With a little more persistence, you tell him that it doesn’t matter to you, that you just want to hear his voice last before drifting off. He would end up giving in to your pleas, humming to Whalien 52 at a slower tempo and a leveled pitch to match his voice; the melody of the song is occasionally drowned out by his soft, sleepy sighs as he holds you close to watch you fall asleep. The lyrics provoke him into the thought of losing you - something he hoped would never happen - thankfully, the sight of you relaxing your shoulders while he sings would tug at his heartstrings, calming him down. The life of an idol and producer was a lonely one. To have found you amidst all this chaos; he never took it for granted.

/ Lonely, lonely, lonely whale /  Like this, try calling once again / Until this song that doesn’t have a response / Reaches tomorrow /

Jimin: ‘Again?’, he would say. You often asked for his sweet voice to serenade you to sleep, on the days that he didn’t seem too tired to do so - sometimes, he would even do it without you asking. He knows that you have trouble sleeping every so often by the way your body twitches up against him, causing him to wake as well. He would be quite worn out from the day’s practice, but it wouldn’t stop him from smiling at the fact that you always needed some sort of lullaby to calm your nerves. He would whisper in your ear after waking, asking if you wanted to hear anything specific - whether you wanted something with a major or minor key. Doesn’t matter, you say to him, and he moves his lips to the chorus of BTS’ Hold Me Tight; a song he listened to often before he met you. He would be glad he didn’t have to relate this song to himself anymore; he no longer felt miserable, after finally being able to be your boyfriend.

/ You still shine / You’re still like a scented flower / Now trust me / Hold me once again / So I can feel you, hold me / Without you, I can’t breathe / I’m nothing without you /

Namjoon: He would stare at you for a bit, wondering what he could possibly harmonize to, to help lull you to sleep. Recently, he has been taking on more vocal roles in BTS, so he’s definitely more willing to sing to you since you asked. You are the one person that he would ever think of serenading, even despite the strenuous lives the both of you led due to being romantically involved with an idol. He wants to take this opportunity to be able to sing something meaningful to you in that moment; he wants you to be okay. He would never hurt you intentionally, but he knows the pressure of this relationship can be crippling. He climbs into bed with you, letting your head rest on his chest as you eagerly focus on the sounds emanating from deep within him, that follow to the theme of Two! Three! Hoping For More Good Days. He hopes you can sleep, knowing he would always love you through the hardships.

/ Let’s just walk down a pleasant flower path / I can’t say something like that / Let’s only see good things / I can’t say that either / That only good things will happen / That you won’t get hurt anymore / I can’t say something like that / I can’t lie like that /

Seokjin: Jin would love singing you to bed, he wouldn’t really be able to envision any better way to spend the moments he has left before he would turn in for the night. He would joke about how lucky you are to get to hear his celestial voice off-stage; fans would have killed for that opportunity. Personally, he would be brimming with happiness. He would feel appreciated and wanted, just for asking him to sing for you. He would sit by your bedside on his knees, resting his chin on your mattress. His eyes would look up to observe the process of you nodding off, while he gently murmurs the lyrics to his latest solo, Awake. When you’ve fallen asleep, he would stop immediately to take in the view of you slumbering serenely before him. People liked to dub him the ‘angel’ of BTS - never did it occur to him that he would always get to sing to one, let alone be by their side every night.

/ Maybe I, I can never fly / I can’t fly like the flower petals over there / Or as though I have wings / Maybe I, I can’t touch the sky / Still, I want to stretch my hand out / I want to run, just a bit more /

Jungkook: The maknae of Bangtan would have no qualms fulfilling your reasonable request. He would tease you a little at first, saying that you were like a child that needed to be tucked in before being able to doze off. When you confess that you listen to his song covers whenever he’s gone because it makes you feel less alone - the tables would have turned on him instead - his teasing would backfire as he blushes at the thought of his voice accompanying you to sleep whenever he wasn’t around. Jungkook has a special kind of allure to his singing that soothed your soul, and you end up saying just that to him. He wouldn’t even be able to look you straight in the eye as he vocalizes to the melody of BTS’ Blanket Kick - even after all these years, you still knew how to set his heart ablaze; your words always make him as giddy as schoolboy before his crush.

/ Only you, only you / Again, I’m acting weird in front of you / You’re so pretty, pretty, pretty / But why am I like this? / I sleep and kick my blankets around / Only you /

Hoseok: The cheery smile on his face would widen as he listens to your question. Why him? He would say that it’s cute of you to think of him as someone that could put you to sleep with the sound of his raspy voice, and he would end up telling you that there is no way he can attempt that feat. You shoot him eyes that begged him to humor you. Hobi wouldn’t have had much of a choice; but he’s truthfully okay with that. Arasseo, let me warm up. He would clear his throat in a wacky fashion that makes you giggle drowsily his way. The words to a familiar song would progressively return to him, and he begins a verse with a faint melody before leisurely and softly rapping the lyrics to Rain - something he’s written once before when he was hurt by love - but Hoseok no longer looks back at the experience with a pained heart, because he knows that he has a future with you to look forward to.

 / I get up and when I feel sore / I look out the window / As if it knows how my body feels, the rain is falling / Welling up in the window / I felt it / The tears that were flowing down my heart /

Taehyung: His features would shine in delight as he realizes this is the first time you’ve ever asked him to sing for you; Taehyung would leap fervently at the chance to serenade his sweetheart to sleep, especially because he was absent on most nights to shoot promos and record in the studio. If singing is one of the ways he can make you feel less unattended to, you can bet a million dollars he would pull out his phone in the middle of a concert to stream himself performing, just to make you smile. He decides to sing Just One Day to get his sentiment across. The last thing he would ever want was for you to feel like you’d been forgotten about. Not a day goes by that he doesn’t wish he could spend it with you. As you slide into unconsciousness, he burrows under the sheets with you and embraces you from behind, silently thankful that you still want to be with him; that you still want to hear his voice.

/ If I can be with you just for a day / If I can hold your hands just for a day / If I can be with you just for a day / Just one day / If you and I can be together just for a day /


I hope you enjoyed this react! <3

3

It’s 230 am, if you know where this alley is in downtown phoenix and want to bear witness to the spectacle that is the savage wrath of Chaos Vortex and fully understand why Im known in over 30 countries as The Dragon Of Devastation in the streets and in both official and underground martial arts fight circuits worldwide, then get here by 3 cuz shit is about to go the fuck down. 2 squads are bringing their 10 strongest warriors to finally settle a decade long rivalry with no weapons… And i set it all up by going to the enemy stronghold by myself to put an end to the fued through one final battle. Why did i approach both sides with this plan? Because unifying warriors, expanding my network of underworld connections, and restoring peace on the streets through the use of honorable combat is what i have always done everywhere I’ve been to in the world. Your either born a fuckin leader like myself or a follower. If you’re a leader, that’s what you should do. But If you decide to lead and others choose follow, then it’s your responsibility to use your clout to enrich their lives regardless of whether it puts you in danger or not because it’s the right thing to do. I exist to empower and assist my fellow humans. That is why i do things like this. On the surface, it may seem to many like im just a crazy adrenaline junkie and do so much dangerous shit cuz i have a reckless disregard for my own life, and to an extent they’re right, but really drives me is my passion to hone my talents. We all have our own unique talents for many reasons, but to me, the main reason we have them is because there are so many way that they can be used to help others. Tonight is another example of how i utilize my inborn talent for hurting people to help them. Open your third eye and im sure you can you feel the energy of my bloodlust emanating through the screen when you look at my pix. As the time for war draws closer my soul grows colder and the ability to grant mercy is now devoid within me. Mother nature always thirsts for blood in her soil, and Tonight we will give it to her.

Callout for Luci @Lucisev

Luci has previously gone by the urls “terfs”, “makinishiqino”, “butterflymask”, “aetheir”, and most likely several others that I’m forgetting. Luci has had several callouts in the past, however most were over stuff like kin drama, with the last real valid callout being from over a year ago.

To start, I’d like to give a brief run down of my history with Luci. I’ve been mutuals with her since around summer 2015, however I knew nothing about her and only started talking to her in December. We spoke a few times, but didn’t become too close. Around the start of 2016 she left Tumblr and moved to twitter. In April, she came back, and after talking to her for only a few days, we rushed into a relationship. We dated from early April to mid December, with a temporary breakup in the middle of November. After we broke up, we stayed friends until I started dating someone else, just before new years, at which point things started going downhill. On January 14th I had decided it was best for me to cut all contact with Luci, so I did.

Because there’s a lot of stuff to go over, I will be posting screenshots that have several parts to a second blog, @lucicourse, to prevent this from getting overly cluttered. The link to a set of screenshots will be posted where it is relevant.

For reference, I would like to state that I’m referred to by 3 separate names throughout this, being Severa, Nico, and Weiss, as well as the nickname Sevvy. Me and Luci occasionally refer to Nowi as Ruby as well. 

Before we begin I feel that a few disclaimers are in place. To start, There are already several callout posts floating around for Luci. I do not want to be approached about those. Most attack her for petty stuff like kin drama, and I do not want people trying to compare stuff like that to the actual gross shit she’s done. I will not be addressing anything that has already been discussed in those callout posts.

As for the second disclaimer, I would like to note that I didn’t have any desire to stay in a relationship with Luci, or even really be friends with her, from around July onward. Any replies to her messages that I include in this callout are purely me trying to diffuse a situation with her, as admittedly having seen the way she acted towards others, she frightened me, and I also feared she would do serious harm to herself, so I felt obligated to stay with her.

The third disclaimer is that I do not want anyone making any jokes about the stuff Luci says in the sexual harassment section. I’m unsure whether Wander’s victims are alright with jokes about his stuff, because I’ve seen conflicting information. However. I do not want anyone turning the sexual things Luci has said to me into a joke. If I see you doing so, you will be blocked.

The final disclaimer is that, in the spirit of being entirely honest, I will be including the things that might put Nowi and I in a bad light. I want everyone to form a well developed, informed, opinion, and I don’t intend to bias this information.

Keep reading

•A JOURNAL ENTRY: WHAT IS IT REALLY LIKE TO LIVE WITH DEPRESSION?•

i wouldn’t exactly call it living. more like surviving… i look at the environment surrounding me, memories lie tattered in my brain. a life i want to believe was once so full and fruitful has become unthinkably dull. my own eyes were once baby blue but have since faded to an iridescently eerie gray. im hurting. it hurts. im not lying.

i would tell you that you don;t understand- but i;ve begin to notice that everything can only be interpreted in relation to other things or feelings. and this is the only thing ive come to recall feeling. this ethereal delicate coldness within my core, shaking and rattling my bones, consuming my every feeling of functionality. im clearly broken beyond repair- yet i aimlessly crave fixture.

i am light with awful lightness. my blood is mud and my bones are brittle. my thoughts freely cascade within my mind, setting fire to all of my precious sensibilities . any meager ration of purpose and hope is replaced by these fucking reminders that i am truly and entirely 113% alone in this.

at one point, i wanted help. i went to therapy once a week- on bad weeks i went twice. i convinced myself that the glass was half full. i made the most out of everything- and in the process, i made a fool of myself.

i spoke out. i cried for help. i wrote it in books, on forums, i would have carved the words “help me” into my damn skin on my damn forehead if i thought for one minute that anybody was listening.

and i know you’re listening if you’re reading this. but are you really reading this? are you reading me? can you feel the pain in the tips of my fingers, in the ends of my hair, in the blood in my veins, in the staggering cry of my voice at 2 in the morning- an ugly face soaked in the tears resulting from years of utter and complete destruction and then desertion of every little thing i feel?

can you feel my pain?

can you imagine trying to fall asleep when there are actual fucking faceless voices in between your ears jabbering an unimaginably taunting cry? whispering demented nonsense into your ears nonstop after you beg and plead with yourself to quit hearing those damn voices. your mind races like it’s been training all its life and this is the moment it has all led up to: the olympic event of self destruction. and it’s taking home the gold.

i close my eyes and i am so unbelievably tired. staying alive is a fight and today it has beat
me to a pulp. my eyes have bags as big as my regrets and my face is tired from
pretending to light up with joy all day.

jesus christ, it’s my junior year and i’m graduating in less than a year. surely there is one thing to even half way grin about. no, you are wrong. because for every good little thing that happens- every time it seems like it’s getting better, every false sense of hope, for every good thing, there is depression.

my false sense of hope has found its home. depression is a polite host to every single good
feeling in my body. depression feeds me, it cleans me, it loves me, it speaks to me, it knows me.

depression wants to stay forever. it houses in my bones, it feeds on my fears, it gets high on my anxiety, it exchanges hope for hopelessness, it thrives on my insecurities, and depressions favorite thing to do is to keep me up on nights like tonight, where i’m at my worst.

i’m scared, truly. i used to be obsessed with the seasons- more importantly, the transition of one season to anther. perhaps i used to be so fond of change because change was actually a possibility at that point in my life.

winter turning into spring was my favorite. i would lay on the dead, crunchy, brown remnants of the grass, the air around me crisp and cold, stabbing my lungs with every swift,
sharp breath. my nose rosy and cold, sniffling along every chill within my body. bare branches of tall oak trees
stretched into the white winter sky, seemingly reaching for the sunlight the tree craved and needed, as my pale, cold, minuscule hands clutched at the dry, barren earth beneath me- fumbling for more meaning of the world around me. why must seasons change, but my heart always feels the same?

you see, i resonate so very deeply with the winter months. gardens and patches of land that were once beaming with flora and fauna, life and expounding sunlight and warmth, now lay isolated, empty, sterile- similar to the child in me that once was jubilant and lively, but now turned into some thing so cold and ugly. the innocence has beend lost and the happiness within me has since been destroyed by the monster within me, which claims not only me as a victim, but those around me who love and care about me

i only know that i am loved and cared for because i’m continuously and perpetually told this upon a daily basis. it has become very prevalent to me that people feel much better about me when i validate that i know that they are here to talk and that i am loved. yes, i know this. but i cannot feel it. the love that you have for me is, in the least offensive way possible, absolutely irrelevant to my entire being.

you could listen to me rant for days upon weeks, you could read this bible that i’m typing. but i can never seem to make the people around me realize that i am never going to truly accept the love they offer me.

i often wonder if it is true love that inspires people to be there for those with depression- or if those surrounding me simply feel compelled to profess their love and support to me because they see my approval and wellbeing as a direct reflection of their credibility as a friend or family member.

i feel as if i am a burden to those around me, simply harshening the seemingly good mood that literally everyone else but me is capable of partaking in. i want to run with wild horses, frolic among wild flowers, hear the laughter of a child, hold hands with someone i love, and entertain deeply fulfilling and life changing relationships- but you see, the way my life is set up- i am actually emotionally incapable of doing so!

i am most aware of my unfortunate illness and incapability to be happy in the most unexpected and irrational times. take birthday parties, for instance. celebration and good vibes fill the air around me, seeping into my black, pitiful lungs. everyone around me smiles and sings, drowning in their jubilation, as i sit and watch. i want to have fun. please believe me. i want to sing happy birthday. i want to watch you open your gifts. i want to be as happy as you. i want to feel the warmth in my cheeks as i have the time of my life with my friends. but some thing within me compresses each and every slither of joy i am capable of feeling. i am suffocated by the downfall of my emotions and i am blinded by the reminder that depression doesn’t take breaks, not even at birthday parties. depression is strongest whenever you are faced with situations that expose you to the reality that you’re the odd one out- you’re sticking out like a sore thumb. you’re moping and you’re constantly staring out into space. what are you even looking at? what do you have to think about? you have nothing to live for, so anything beyond what’s right in front of you has no relevance in this whole scheme of life. so take it or leave it. you should be enjoying this birthday party. all the other kids are happy. you should be too. you’re lucky you even left the house today. so lucky. had you stayed home, you would have been 100% alone with your thoughts, rather than 97% along with your thoughts, due to the constant interruption of your moping and resentment by peers and parents and teachers asking “is everything okay?”

habitually, you nod. yes. everything is fine. i’m doing well, thank you. but what is the meaning of life? why do i feel like there’s a big fat man sitting on my chest and stomach and heart all the time? why do i always feel like i’m the only one in the room holding back tears trying not to cry? why are the other kids so happy? am i missing out on some thing? why do i feel so sad? why is it that every time i’m surrounded by people who say they love and care for me, i feel as if i’ve never been more alone before in my life? why? do you pity me? it’s just who i am. is that weird?

and oh my god i was always so desperate to be different. perhaps it was just the way my personality was set up. and i was always fairly extroverted. but it was presumably a persona that i put on. hey world, look at me. i’m silly and creative and ill say things that nobody else would say. pay attention to me, look at me.

because i needed them to watch. i hope you never feel so out of control of your body as me, to where you feel as if the only way that you can be saved is if other people figure out that you’re dying on their own. you don’t know how to come straight out and tell them, “hey, i really would rather not be alive at this given moment. i have visions of ending my own life. i use self isolation as a coping mechanism at times in order to feel like less of a burden on those who love me. i haven’t felt genuinely loved in a really long time. i’m so lonely. i could really use a friend right now.”

you can’t just say that. and i became depressed at 9 years old. how would a 9 year old even possibly articulate these complex and life threatening emotions that severely alter the way that every one of their peers perceives them. those middle years are crucial for making friends. it’s at that age that you have to find a group of 3 to 8 people who accept at least half of your given characteristics and occasionally invite you to partake in shit that kids do.

i wouldn’t know. i was a fleeting spirit. appearing and disappearing from cliques like it was clock work. there was more than one willow. there was the catty, witty willow- that found self-approval and approval from others by teasing and belittling others in order to build her own confidence up. then there was the sweet, flower child willow that sold daisy chains on the playground at recess at the price of one hug. there was the willow that stayed near the teachers at times because it was obvious that the other kids wanted nothing to do with her.

and as time progresses, the newer evolution of willow became prevalent. the willow that kept to herself most of the time, spending recess in the class room alone, drawing on the pages of her books, talking to herself, worrying her life away. everyone wondered - what was wrong with willow? or perhaps nobody noticed at all. maybe i was so insignificant even at such a young age- that the only time people considered me was in my dreams.

depression changes a person. some times, the change isn’t even tangible or noticeable to those surrounding the victim. some times, it is a slow discourse of the destruction of the spirit. it can slowly creep into your ear one ungodly night, and forever more whisper its awful lies into the victims ear, as it infects their whole body, their heart, their mind, their spirit, their hands, their eyes. everything. it slowly progresses into the uncontrollable loss of feelings and motivation to even maintain basic proper hygiene. it makes everything feel pointless. things are no longer worth the effort because you’re going to die no matter what, and that can’t come soon enough.

yes, depression can be slow and progressive. but that’s not the worst. the worst depression is the kind that sneaks up on you out of nowhere in the dead of night and immediately stiffens every hair on your body and turns your blood cold, making your mouth dry and your tongue numb. this depression hits you like a fucking train. it hits you in your most vulnerable state- comfort and normalcy. from that point on, you will never know normalcy again.

depression has a way of deceiving you into believing things that are crazy and untrue. but these things become so real to you as the depression progresses into a lifestyle that you come to know nothing else but the lies that depression will fill you with- so nobody can really tell you anything. it will call you names. it will tell you that you’re better off dead. it will be your only comfort- feeling nothing- during the night, whenever anxiety holds you until you pass out from exhaustion. you will never be cold at night as long as anxiety and depression have you snuggled up in between them.

oh how depression loves to kick you around and belittle you. oh how it renders your fantasies pointless. it loves to keep you hostage- to the point where any time you get an idea that doesn’t include moping around in your own sorrow, it immediately renders that idea impossible and reminds you that you are depressions bitch. you eat when depression finishes telling you how fat and disgusting you are. you sleep all day, so depression can take a dip in your nightmares. you wake up, and realize that life with depression is the true nightmare after all.

you pray for the day that you are relieved from this blinding madness and this subliminal torture. you feel as if you are not only a burden to your own self, but a burden to the people who love you and care for you

the only times when depression allows you relief from questioning the ulterior motives of those around you who claim to love you and care for you is when depression instead allows you to feel ashamed of your affliction. when you’re depressed, people notice. they may pretend not to and they may ignore it. but they know. they just don’t know what to say.

what would they say anyways?

hey. i’m sorry your brains are figuratively dripping out of your ears and i’m sorry that you have convinced yourself that i only care about you because i feel guilty, and i’m also sorry that you don’t even have the motivation to take a shower. i’m also sorry that you don’t
remember the last time that someone made you feel special. i’m sorry that you can’t find a reason to smile. i’m sorry that out of all the millionaires, the talented ones, the ones who fall in love, and the ones with nice asses- you were the one to end up hating yourself and everything around you.

ask yourself…. what do you say? what do you say to someone who is depressed?

know that i understand that you don’t know what to say. because yes this sucks. and i don’t expect you to understand what it’s like to wish you were dead. and i am so jealous of you for that. but please treat me the same as everyone else. please love me. make
me laugh. invite me to go shopping with you. get shit faced with me. help me fill the gaping hole in my soul with pointless memories of laughter and small talk. talk about life with me. listen to what i have to say. let me love you.

yes, i have depression. trust me, i will never forget! but please, help me feel normal. i don’t want to feel different than you. i want to be your peer, not your charity case.

i am dying to make friends. i am dying to spend less time in this bed writing shit like this. i am tired of letting this god damn disease walk all over me like i’m a fucking patch of dead grass.

life sucks. but please remind me that winter fades to spring. please remind me that some flowers are seasonal, and not every flower spends its whole life in bloom. remind me that you have to spend time in the dark to understand just how beautiful life in the sunlight is. remind me that there’s no cure for a bad day like a strawberry daiquiri and deep, controversial conversations with complete strangers.

remind me that my car has a sunroof and that it’s okay to open it up and let my hair get a little messy. remind me that music is better when it’s too loud to really interpret what the artist is saying- but you don’t have to understand to feel some thing.

remind me that i don’t have to lose this fight.

i am fucking hurting. but for the love of god, i’m begging you to help me fix me. because i forget that there’s good in the world. i forget that depression isn’t the boss of me. i forget that i have the whole world in my hands. i forget that there’s life after high school and that it’s okay to be alone some times, but it’s never okay to be lonely.

i will never forget what it is like to have my heart ripped out by a disease that i can’t even lay my hands on. perhaps i can touch the blisters under my eyes from
crying so much. perhaps i can run my hands along the holes i’ve punched in the walls from being so angry with myself. and yes i can feel how my bed is sinking in towards the ground because i spend so much time laying here trying to feel some thing besides utter destruction and loneliness. i can never forget what this disease has done to me. there will always be a piece of my heart that this depression has stolen from
me.

but with loving other people, i can aimlessly work to mend that hole. i can’t do it alone. i need a friend. i need you here with me.

i am so tired of being alone.
i will push you away at first. i may come off as helpless and a bitch. but please, that is the depression talking. it’s not willow.

willow loves the color pink
willow loves wild flowers
willow loves the smell of green onions
willow loves the feeling of sand under her feet
willow loves hearing about your childhood and how you had a speech impediment and a cat named angel
willow loves the smell of rain when it hits a hot sidewalk
willow loves to go barefooted
willow loves establishing connections with animals
willow loves willow, some times she just can’t see it

i need a gentle reminder of what it’s like to be a real normal teenage girl

this shit is hard. and being misunderstood makes it harder.

so i’m saying it loud and clear. my name is willow and i have clinical depression and generalized anxiety. my life has been a series of almost laughably awful events, which have resulted in said mental illnesses. i have been misunderstood, bullied, neglected, and hurt. but my story does not end here. i may never completely overcome my depression, but i will overcome my failure to acknowledge my illness. i will work to educate people about those who suffer as i do. i will help those with depression. i will be the friend that i have never had, but always needed, to anyone who wants it. i will be a testament to the depression that has oppressed me for 8 years now.

depression is not who i am. depression does not define me. what defines me is the fact that i am staying alive even though it is proving to be the biggest struggle that i have ever encountered, and i am asking that you help me and people like me. because it’s not a one person job.

my name is willow. and i’m telling you that depression is a rude ass bitch. but i’m a bigger bitch, and unlike my illness, i have the power to make people feel loved and valid. and i will use that power to overcome my depression.

i would like to dedicate this journal entry to everyone reading it. i may go to school with you, you may be just a random tumblr user, you may suffer with depression, you may suffer with some other deeply oppressive situation, you may just be a happy son of a bitch.
it doesn’t matter who you are. let this. journal entry be a testament to your life.

there are people with depression. and there is no way that i can ever explain to you just how it feels via tumblr text post or even via socratic seminar complete with gardens of text books and instructional videos. all i can say is that in this life, you are responsible for being there for the people around you.

you never know what someone is going through. people with depression practically have licenses and 4 year degrees in the field of putting up facades of being okay and sucking it up and repressing those explosive emotions. they don’t expect you to give a shit about them, because as far as they’re concerned, nobody has given a shit,
nobody currently gives a shit, and nobody ever will give a shit about them. they make it hard to help. but it’s so important that you break down those walls. and some times, all you need to do is smile at someone or invite someone to eat after school or to go to a party. you can’t do much for someone with depression. like i said, they’re a whole world away. their concerns and struggles are immaculate, indescribable. however, it doesn’t take much to show someone that you care even a little bit. even if it’s just picking and giving them a random flower.

if you suffer from depression or know anyone with depression and you need someone to look to for advice/help/inspiration, my DM’s are open. oversharing is caring. i know what it’s like to want to take your own life, and i fought the urge to do so even while writing this journal entry.

i am here for you. you are not by yourself. please DM me if you ever need someone to send you pictures of a cute animal to cheer you up, or if you even need me to talk you out of suicide. i know both feelings.

if you’re reading this,
i challenge you to go out of your comfort zone. yes you. i challenge you to do this one easy thing at either work or school, or out in public or in your family

1. pick 3 flowers, they can be store bought or you can have picked them yourself

2. give one flower to someone who you worry might have depression

2. give one flower to a random person who you don’t know

3. give one flower to a person you would like to get to know better, you never know when someone desperately needs a friend


it’s just a flower, but you could save someone’s life. some times, all people need is a gentle reminder that good things still exist and that somebody is thinking about them.

don’t be the person that assumes too high of a role or makes an excuse to not be able to participate in this challenge or share this journal.

you never know when you can save someone’s life.

remember: no matter who you are, i love you. and i am willing to comfort you in times of need. i’ve been where you are. and i know how much ass depression sucks.

my DM’s are open, and so is your future.
don’t end your story this early.

—  Willow Scalisi 4/18/17 (dam i just realized sonic got half priced burgers today, turn up)
Request: Blessed

Request: Could you write a story where the reader is a maid at the motel and Sam and Dean are sleeping in (without a case, so they sleep in late) but hear a pretty voice singing classic rock next door (as reader sings while cleaning) and Sam convinces dean to at least go see who is singing and he’s smitten. Thanks!!

Word Count: 1,213

<3

Dean is very much used to harsh awakenings. Blaring alarms, the cut of a knife, a bucket of cold water… there’s not much that’s foreign to him anymore. Late mornings, on the other hand, when the sun is far above the horizon and yet he’s still in bed, remain his favourites, because he’s able to wake on his own time, at his own pace, and maybe finally get out of bed not feeling completely exhausted.

So when he’s woken far before his usual post-case-lie-in time, for a few moments he’s mildly annoyed. That is, until he hears exactly what woke him up:

“There is a house in New Orleans
They call the Rising Sun
And it’s been the ruin of many a poor boy
And God, I know I’m one,”

He’s heard angels speaking. He’s heard them screaming, and smashing windows with it – so to say an angel’s voice was coming through the paper-thin motel wall couldn’t be further from the truth. This is the opposite – sweet and soothing, and even better, singing a song he’s loved since childhood.

Throughout the sing, the voice hits each and every note, somehow capturing the haunting rhythm of the song within a bright, airy, melodic tone. He’s completely entranced. All he can do is lie there, his hands locked behind his head, and let himself be relaxed by the soothing voice as it moves through a veritable playlist of absolute classics – the gap between songs leaves him waiting in suspense, hoping for another one to start up – and the voice always obliges, and the opening notes to whichever song it chooses sound even sweeter than ever.

“You’re not going to go and flirt with her?” Sam’s voice startles Dean out of his reverie, though the voice doesn’t leave his mind.

“She’s… I don’t know what she’s doing. I don’t want to disturb her.” He says quickly – there’s a part of him that enjoys the mystery, the not knowing, the building up the image of a woman in his mind: in his head, she’s beautiful, but not overtly so – and she’s funny, with a bright, mischievous smile. It’s all an illusion, of course, but he doesn’t mind. It’s a nice mirage to bask in the glow of, either way.

“Disturb her? What’s gotten into you?” Sam’s incredulity is clearly audible in his tone, and the elder brother peels open one eye to give his brother a look.

“Nothing. But she’s obviously busy.” As if on cue, the singing pauses for a moment and is replaced with the sound of furniture scraping across the floor before starting back up again.

“You’re nervous.” Sam grins as the realisation reaches him, “You’re actually nervous to speak to a girl. Why? You’ve talked to girls who like rock before.”

“I know, I just-“

“I’m sure she’s nice enough. I’m assuming she’s staff, judging by the cleaning cart just outside the door, so she’s basically contractually obligated to be nice to you,” When Dean doesn’t reply and still looks dubious, Sam sighs in resignation, “At least go and see who it is. What she’s like. And if you like her, we don’t have a case or anywhere to be, so staying another few days shouldn’t be a problem.”

***

Dean drags himself out of the bed after that, hurrying into his jeans with such haste that he manages to shove both legs into one trouser-leg and nearly end up flat on his face, to his younger brother’s infinite amusement.

However, for once Dean doesn’t bite back, and instead heads out of the room somehow feeling a thousand times more refreshed than usual despite not having even touched the coffee pot. He nearly hesitates outside the door, but after a short pep talk and a mental kick up his own ass, he shifts the cleaning trolley out of the way and knocks, two sharp raps on the open door.

The sound cuts your voice off instantly, and you turn from what you were doing – changing over the (frankly, disgusting) bedsheets. They drop into a crumpled heap of faded, stained linen at your feet as you flash him a bright, friendly smile and brush your hands off on the black tabard that’s draped over your jeans and black t-shirt, the design of which he can’t make out for the over-garment.

“Can I help you?” You ask him sweetly, and he’s taken aback by how kind your expression is, and how beautiful you are – even more so than the vision he’d cooked up in his head, despite his thinking that it couldn’t be possible.

“Hi, I- uh- no, I-“ Dean Winchester, flustered. If you knew him, you’d be a lot more impressed than you are amused, considering the laugh that escapes your lips. Part of him wants to muffle the sound with his own lips, the other wants to listen to it forever.

“Is it your room? I was coming there next, I promise, but the people in here last… I don’t know what they were doing. I don’t think I want to know.” You shudder, only partially in hyperbole. He huffs with laughter, suddenly remembering the various states of filth and chaos he’d left motel rooms in over the years and feeling a flash of guilt.

“No, it’s fine. We were lying in anyway. I woke up to your excellent serenade.” He smiles, hoping it comes across as flirtatious, despite it feeling more hysterical.

“Oh, I woke you?” The flush that spreads across your cheeks is nothing short of adorable, “I’m so sorry, I knew the walls were thin, but-“

“Not like that!” He quickly corrects you, “I was just curious. I had to see who was singing my kind of music so well.”

“Your kind of…” He watches as you put the pieces together in your mind, “Is that why you’re wearing an AC/DC shirt backwards?”

He looks down and, sure enough, there are tour dates emblazoned down his chest – it’s his turn to flush then, but you only laugh, going back to piling bedsheets into the laundry hamper you’ve set at the foot of the bed.

“I guess it is.” He smiles, leaning against the doorframe, “I’m Dean.”

“Y/N. Pleasure to meet you.” You look up at him and, again, smile with a face full of sunshine. It warms even the deepest darkest reaches of his soul, where no light dares venture anymore. But you do, and you don’t even know it.

“I absolutely assure you, the pleasure is all mine.” He grins, straightening up and taking a step towards you, “I know you’re working and everything, but when do you get off?”

“Noon.” You reply, “As long as I get everything done.”

“In that case, you wanna grab some lunch? My treat. My brother and I are in town for a while, and I need someone who knows where all the good pie is.”

“Your brother? He coming too?” You ask offhandedly, doing a great job of looking casual about it. Dean scoffs.

“Not a chance. He’s all… salad and sadness.” Dean rolls his eyes, which makes you laugh.

“I happen to know a pretty good place. I’ll meet you at your room at noon-thirty?”

“Noon-thirty it is.” He agrees, and you bless him with another grin.

“It’s a date, then.”  

The Little One || Jughead Jones

Originally posted by thenighthawkes

word count : 1,136

pairing : Jughead x Reader

warnings : none!

summary : You find a kitten on the way to school and decided to ask Jughead to help you hide it from your horrendous peers and teachers.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!


      You just couldn’t leave it on the side of the road. What type of person would you be if you let the small kitten alone and probably get hit by something; a horrible one that is. Upon seeing the small gray kitten that couldn’t be more than a couple weeks old, you began to thank your lucky stars that you decided to walk to the school today. The only real issue was where were you going to keep it? Considering your home was to far away to walk it back, and your parents would kill you for being late again, so that was out of the idea pool. You refused to leave it outside any longer in fear that something would hurt it, so the only thing you could think of was keeping it with you the whole day.

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Paranormal Activity

Summary: Tony wants to watch Paranormal Activity. What could possibly go wrong?

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Language

A/N: My wifi is still wacky, plus my daughter is sick today, so I’ve mostly just been taking care of her.

Originally posted by vibraniumdoll

When Steve brought Bucky to the tower for the first time since the events of the Sokovia Accords, everything was a little awkward for a while. Everyone on Team Iron Man was a little on edge around him, after all, it was kinda his fault everything fell apart. Not intentionally of course, no one ASKS to be used as an assassin for some crazy world domination group. He was unfortunate enough to be that person, however. I am new around here, Tony heard about me after he found Peter and since he was down several members of the avengers, he hunted me down. I agreed, and slowly but surely, the original members of the Avengers have made their way back home. With a few handshakes, pats on the back and some apologies, everything seems to be going smooth. When Bucky shows up, everyone tenses up. It’s like they tread softly around him, afraid he’ll revert back into the winter soldier, I assume. I don’t want to be that way though, so I’ve done my damndest to NOT be that person.

-

It’s early morning, around 5AM. I’m never up this early, but for some reason, sleep just didn’t come to me easy last night, so I figured might as well get up. Padding into the kitchen, I see Cap, Birdman, and…Bucky…I don’t have a nickname for him yet. He can’t be Tinman, no because that’s Tony! They’re all in their running attire. Steve in that grey under armor shirt, and running shorts. Sam in a black long sleeve shirt and shorts. Bucky..he’s in a black tank top, showcasing his arm. I’m sure he only does that in the early morning, when no one else is around, along with black sweats.

Me? I’m in my night shirt that goes to my knees, and some shorts. I haven’t even brushed my hair yet. Sam starts laughing, like hands on his knees because he can’t support himself standing anymore.

“Oh man, (Y/N)! You look like hell!” I glare at him, flipping him the bird, no pun intended.

“Fuck off, Wilson.” Steve chokes on his water, then wipes his chin.

“Language, (L/N).” I glare at Steve now.

“Fuck off, Rogers.” Bucky chuckles, I don’t know if it’s from my attitude, or Steve’s reaction.

“What? Not gonna tell Barnes to fuck off too?” Sam pokes my side, like he’s trying to get a rise outta me.

“No, why would I? He hasn’t said anything to piss me off yet.” Sam rolls his eyes.

“How? His entire presence pisses me off.” He side smirks at Barnes. He’s just playing, kinda, but it’ll get to Bucky either way.

“Fuck off, Wilson.” Bucky has quite the mouth on him too. I could get used to hi dirty talking ways. I turn on my heel to look at Steve. He’s leaning against the counter with his head in his hands.

“What? Not gonna tell Barnes to watch his language too?” He looks up at me out of the corner of his eye, then shakes his head. Bucky comes to stand next to me, I can feel the cold from his metal arm radiating off of him.

“No, he know’s I’d kick his ass if he tried.” I laugh, the first laugh of the day, and it didn’t even sound forced.

“Whatever, jerk. Are you guys coming or not? I’ve ran by myself in the morning, I can do it again” Steve is out the door with Sam, leaving Buck behind. Bucky turns to look at me before going out the door.

“You gonna be joining us, doll?” He speaks to me while walking backwards. Is it bad I find myself wishing he’d run into something?

“Are you kidding? There’s no way, I’m still in my pajamas.” He chuckles, walking out the door. That was my first actual conversation with the ex Winter Soldier.

-

Ever since then I think Bucky came to the conclusion that I’m not afraid of him, and kinda follows me around like a puppy, but I’m not complaining.

It’s movie night at the Tower, we hold these every week or so, depending on missions. I usually wear my pajamas these gatherings, so I’m trying to decide if I should go long sleeves or short.

“Hey Buck, should I go short sleeve or long sleeve?” I peak my head out of my bathroom, trying to get his attention. He’s sprawled out across my bed, reading some book or something.

He sits up, running his metal hand through his hair. God this man is beautiful. I can’t help but want him so much, in every way possible.

“I don’t care doll, it’s not like we’re going anywhere, just be comfortable.” I nod, putting on my long sleeved, open back grey pajama set with black shorts, and throwing my hair into a high ponytail. When I leave the bathroom, Buck is standing by the door.

“Ready, doll?” I smile, running up to him.

“Yup! Hey, you wouldn’t happen to know what movie is playing do you?”

“Yeah, Paranormal Activity.” I freeze. Oh no. I hate paranormal movies.

He raises his eyebrow, turning around to look at me, still frozen in place.

“Why? What’s wrong with it?” I sigh.

“I don’t know, I hate movies about ghosts…I hate them.” He chuckles.

“A couple weeks ago we watched Friday the 13th and you had no problems there.” He walks up to stand next to me, wrapping his metal arm around my waist, pulling me towards the theatre room.

“I know, I have no problem watching movies where there’s a physical threat, I don’t however like watching movies where you can’t see your attacker, you can’t defend yourself against it, there’s no way to protect yourself against a demon. I hate movies like that…” He chuckles, his arm still around my waist.

“Don’t worry doll, I’ll keep you safe.” I roll my eyes, thinking about saying something snarky, but I really do want him to stay by my side. What? Everyone has an irrational fear, this one just happens to be mind, don’t make fun of me!

Halfway through the movie, and I’m already a terrified mess. Knees up to my chest in the chair, face buried in the pillow perched on my knees. Bucky seems to be more interested in me, having a panic attack, than the movie.

“You alright, doll?” I jump, accidently kicking Nat’s chair, in front of me. She turns around, rubbing the back of her head.

“Didn’t realize (Y/N) was such a scaredy cat.” The blush that heats up my face, must have been a sight, so I kick the back of her seat again.

“Fuck off, Romanoff.” She laughs and rolls her eyes.

“Bucky! Tell her to fuck off in Russian for me!” He looks towards Nat, smirking,

“Отъебись.” I laugh, sticking my tongue out at her. She rolls her eyes, turning her attention back to the movie. For the next 30 minutes or so, I have the pillow up and over my eyes, peeking every once in awhile.

At the end of the movie, when the main character runs towards the camera with demon teeth happens, I shout and practically jump into Bucky’s arms. He laughs, putting his arms around me. Everyone laughs, seems I’m the only one here that doesn’t like paranormal movies.

“So, I vote to watch more ghost movies in the future.” Tony stands up, smirking in my direction.

“Shut up, Tony. I don’t think so.” He laughs, grabbing his phone and leaving the theatre room. Bucky stands up, taking me with him in his arms.

“Don’t worry doll, I’ll protect you from the demons.” I roll my eyes as he carries me to my room.

-

Sitting on my bed, I find myself looking around every corner. It’s 2:30 in the morning and I have all my lights on. Even the slightest sound freaks me out. Deciding I don’t want to be alone I text the only person I know for sure will be awake at this time.

“Buck? Are you awake?” He responds almost immediately.

“Yeah doll. Can’t sleep? Dreams of demons getting to you?” I roll my eyes in annoyance.

“Отъебись, Barnes. I went all the way to google translate to figure out how to say that.”

I can almost hear the laugh I know erupted from his throat.

“Mmm, alright ya got me. What can I do for you, doll?”

“I don’t want to be alone….can you come up to my room? And please don’t try to scare me…I don’t think my heart could take it.” It takes him a few minutes to respond, maybe getting dressed.

“On my way, doll.” Bucky is only down the hall, so it shouldn’t take him a couple seconds to get here. I stand up when I hear the door open, running out to greet him. When I see him, he’s in sweats and a black long sleeve shirt. He smiles at me, he looks just as tired as I’m sure I do.

“Why weren’t you asleep, Bucky?” He chuckles, coming up to me, putting his flesh arm around my waist.

“I knew you’d probably text me…I wanted to be awake when you did.” My face heats up.

“Y-You were waiting for me?” He smiles, his bloodshot eyes are soft, and gentle.

“Yeah..is that weird?” I smile, running to him and jumping into his arms, pressing my lips to his. Wrapping my arms around his neck, and he puts his hands on my waist as he kisses me back, running his fingers along my waist. When I pull away, his eyes are blown wide, and he licks his lips.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time…” I find myself admitting to him.

“I-I’m glad you did. But, I’m so tired..” I guide him to my bed, helping him under the covers.

“As long as we can cuddle..” He chuckles, resting his head on my breast, before sleep takes him. I too follow soon, all fear of nightmares plaguing me, gone.

PERMANENT TAG LIST: @marvel-fanfiction, @cassandras-musings, @sammnipple, @iamthemaskhewears, @fairlylocalfairies, @badassbaker, @topkayle, @psychicwitchphilosopher, @gallifreyansass

Age gap

Prompt: What about a headcanon of Chris dating a younger person? oh! or going to Disney World with him.

A/N: THANK YOU, for challenging me like this. I needed that. There you go, I hope you like it. Keep sending requests :)

Warnings: fluff, a little angs, age gap, bad words.

——-

Chris and I had been dating for over seven months. And our fights didn’t include his job or mine. Just the fucking age gap. Today was one of those days were that little and stupid thing made us go nuts and not in the nice, corny and sweet way. He was mad.

“Are you kidding me?” I asked him putting my hand in my hips.

“No, y/n, you’re young I get that, you like to go out and have fun with your friends. Your friends that have your same age.” I sighed.

“You know that you can come with me, I love when you come and join me, baby” I made my way towards him and I hugged him, I tried to kiss him but he was so tense.

“I… we, can find something else to do together. I don’t want to be the old man that just goes there and stands there and doesn’t get any of your young jokes…Maybe I’m getting old” he hugged me for a few seconds to add “I love you, have fun” he kissed my forehead and left my apartment.

“What? Wait, Chris…” I tried to reach him. But he turned around and sighed.

“Baby, please. Just text me when you come back home, please?” I nodded and saw the white door closing.

As a girlfriend, I was supposed to know him, right? Well, I did. And I knew that the age gap was always going to be an issue for us, but lately felt worst. His thirties versus my twenties.

I loved him more than anything in the world and I wanted him being part of my world. But he was right, there was a different atmosphere, with his friends, our friends and my friends.

It was killing me that he had that absurd idea of him being old, but for now, I needed to give him his space.

But also, I think there’s something else I could do.

——-

“Chris” I murmured. He was sleeping. He was so fucking handsome, how could even consider he was old?! I mean, he’s like… breathtaking, amazing, funny… perfect. I laid next to him and started to wave his messy hair.

“Mhm?” he opened his eyes and half smiled. “Baby?” I kissed his nose, he incorporated and sat I leaned and kissed him.

“Good morning”

“Well, it’s not morning yet” he spoke looking at the clock “what are you doing here? I don’t mind, but’s everything ok?” he was that man, caring and sweet.

“Yes, we’re going on a trip, I just needed to wake you up. And it’s not an option, love. We are going.”

“Can I, at least, ask where?” I denied with my head and kissed him.

“No, it’s a surprise. You have ten minutes to shower, I’ll help you packing. Go, now” I ordered. He sprawled in the bed and I rolled my eyes.

“We can stay here, in bed. And I could kiss you and you could kiss me back” he added. His propose was very convincing, but not right now.

“No, move your young and awesome ass from bed” his head showed from the covers with that funny look “Please?”

“Just because you said please, boss” I smiled and kissed him.

“Come on, hurry, love!”

———

“Let me see if I understand? You didn’t let me watch since we got to the airport, neither when we got to the plane and you’re not going to let me sneak when we land?” I kissed him.

“Yes”

“You’re so mean! I don’t wike it.”

“How can you say that you’re old when you act like your four-year-old nephew?”

————-

We got to the place. The air was warm. I spent the night making calls, asking for favors in my job and exchanging as well. But it was worth it, here we were. I used my tiptoes. I kissed him and removed the blindfold.

“Where do you think we are?” I asked him before removing it completely, if he didn’t guess I’d probably punch him. There was all that noise that I couldn’t control, even the photoflashes and the smell of THIS place.

“I think we’re on set?” I laughed.

“Surprise! We’re on Disneyland” I yelled.

“What the fuck! Y/N, this is great, what…? Why…?” he stopped talking and rose me from the ground, making me spin in the air. When he put me down, he kissed me.

“Well, I thought that I needed to bring you to the place where you can feel young and maybe younger. In Disney, doesn’t matter your age, if you or me, are older, we can feel like kids again”

“But we can do things of grown ups too” he said while he put his arms around my waist.

“Like…?”

“Like kissing you and saying that I love you” he leaned and placed his lips against mine.

“I love you, Chris, I love you, not your age, not…” he put his index finger in my lips.

“Shhh! Let’s enjoy today” I nodded and started to walk. Suddenly he grabbed my arm and turned me back.

“I love you, thank you, baby. I… love you”. And that’s how you melt a heart in one second. He held my hand and made our way to the entrance.

Allura + Earth

So last night at like 1AM, instead of sleeping I was crying because “Who’s gonna adopt Allura when the war is over??” and I was sad for about five seconds before the solution became clear: the paladins will have joint custody of Allura. As in, when the paladins go home for some R&R before flying back into space to deal with the problems left behind by the defeat of the Galra Empire, Allura will spend x amount of time with one paladin and their family, then she and Coran will move on to the next paladin and their family.

And then I lost control of the idea and I’ve been weeping ever since. So! Here is a list of ridiculous feelings and headcanons about Allura on Earth. Warning: It’s long.

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LOVE is not a GAME

It’s been weeks and I’m just so struck by the fact that the whole theme of Sherlock throughout the years was…“The game is on!”. Sherlock using the distraction of his detective work as a substitute high, and honestly a way to keep himself at arms length from ‘humans’ and any emotional and/or romantic relationships of course.

And then there’s THE FINAL PROBLEM and in comes Eurus Holmes, setting up this game for Sherlock, and putting Molly Hooper’s life in danger, and during that call we get all this…

  • Is this one of your stupid games? No, it’s not a game.
  • I’m not an experiment, Sherlock. No, I know you’re not an experiment, you’re my friend, we’re friends.
  • You know why. No, I don’t know why.
  • Because it’s true, Sherlock. It’s always been true. Well if it’s true then just say it anyway.
  • Say it like you mean it. I love you. I love you. 

He spends the whole phone call worried and pleading and as soon as it’s done he tries to shut all that off and get back to the game so he says…”Eurus, I won, I won…I won, I saved Molly Hooper.

But then you have Eurus coming back with that EMOTIONAL CONTEXT speech and being like, HAHA NOPE, silly boy, you just lost, you proved yourself wrong, you have emotions, you do care.

And the writers had Eurus use Molly Hooper against Sherlock, like this, to facilitate this exact epiphany, (disproving everything he’s said over the years, that he’s not a hero, that he doesn’t have a heart) because MOLLY HOOPER does count, she matters the most, he loves her, and LOVE IS NOT A GAME.

AND I JUST CAN’T GET OVER HOW IMPORTANT THAT SCENE WAS! NOT JUST FOR THIS SHIP BUT FOR SHERLOCK’S ENTIRE ARC OF CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT!

Tbh idk if Keith is actually gonna end up piloting the black lion? Because if he was, based on a narrative’s POV, it doesn’t really make much sense to put so much emphasis on Keith and Red’s bond in season 2 just to turn around and shove Keith into the black lion season 3. There is obviously a reason why the writers chose to show how close Red and Keith are. Either it’s just setting Keith up for an angsty “I have to leave my lion and we’re really sad :(” plot or Red is just gonna flat out reject the idea of Keith leaving them. And personally, I think it’s gonna be the latter. Red’s trust is really hard to earn, which makes me think that they wouldn’t he as willing to accept any other pilot except the one that they’ve grown attached to.

I work at a place that repairs watches. The work itself is great fun, but the customers. Oh god, the customers.

We’re inside of a mall and the place itself is a full square kiosk that you enter from one side through a wooden gate. We’re fully enclosed in here and it sometimes feels like a jail cell(this has relevance later on).

I have so many stories that I could tell, but I’d be here for ages, so I’ll just pick out a few:

Once a frantic woman was pacing around my kiosk as I came back from a break. I opened the large wooden gate, entered in a key code on the alarm system, then unlocked the combination lock on the lower part of the door to let myself in. Once fully inside the kiosk, this frantic woman rushes up to the counter in front of me and gasps “I NEED MY BATTERY CHANGED! DO YOU WORK HERE?!” Like, first off, settle down. It was your average, run of the mill watch, not life threatening if it died. I actually have a regular customer that comes in for batteries who could die if her watch died and was unable to remind her to take her medicine, but this lady was just nuts. And this was already the day from hell and I bit back “Obviously.” Lady. Are you serious? I’m INSIDE the kiosk. I had to use TWO pass codes to get in here. You WATCHED me put them in. I wanted to shake my head and say “Nope! I was walking by and I wanted to know what it felt like to be a miserable peon that answers dumb ass questions all day! Dream fulfilled!”

The second was much more recent, like last week. A young lady came up, likely in her 20’s. She asks my coworker, word for word, “Can you put time in my watch?” Naturally, he was confused. As am I. He asks if she meant she needed the time set(daylight savings time was just a few days away and some people will spring ahead early, I dunno why). She says, “No, I need you to put time in it!” By this point, I’m shaking, laughter threatening to burst out of me. Coworker actually turns to me and stared blankly because he’s confused. She asks again and he turns back and takes a shot in the dark, “Did you need a battery?”

She’s frustrated at this point, “It HAS a battery!! I need you to put TIME in the BATTERY! SO THE WATCH WILL GO!”

I’m dying! Losing it so hard that I have to hold my mouth closed and bend down out of sight. He just agrees with her at this point, it wasn’t worth more arguing. After he’s done, she asks him how much time he put in it. He said he filled the battery up and she was all set. After she paid and left, we both lost it. I wonder what she thinks time looks like.

This job is certainly interesting!

I’m on warrior mode. 

Still working on my exam to get into medical school in Italy, I’ve been getting great scores on the online simulator and the admission test is in 16 days but why being prepared when you can be well-prepared

This is my last shot, I’m risking a lot by putting aside ALL my french classes to work on this. This year I grew up a lot, living far away from home and asking myself so many questions about who I am and what I should do with my life (it’s part of the process of growing up I guess) and among all the things I learned one very important lesson : when you set a goal you have to stick to it and make some very hard decisions sometimes. It wasn’t easy for me to decide to give up on my french classes: I knew that if I kept working on them I would had to lose another year for sure before getting into medical school here (the process is MUCH MORE complicated than this) and even by doing so I didn’t even know if I was going to make it. The only way to start my medical studies next year was to get into medical school in Italy. I had to give up on many many dreams and expectations I had about my future, but now I feel I made the right decision. I’m very close to get it (not yet guys! but close) and now I don’t care about anything else: this is my goal, my life, and I won’t let anyone come in my way. 

It’s been two months since I’m on warrior mode, and seeing the results coming is so fu**ing satisfying.

I will win.

I Mean What I Say.

Dean Ambrose/OC/AJ. Styles- Dean said don’t lose the match for us, yet here we are with a loss.

Warnings: a slight daddy kink, little bit of choking, PRAISE KINK BLESS


Also shoutout to the people who wanted to tagged in my future writings @the-geekgoddes @vebner37 @llowkeys

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