call me ms

A little kid at my painting camp pulled me over to the side and said “I don’t know how to ask this, but are you a boy or a girl?? I can’t tell.”

And I was thrilled because I had passed the “child pointing out your appearance means gender” test as well as being approachable enough that he could ask. So I sat down and told him I was neither and explained that growing up I was told I was a girl but that I’m not, but I’m not a boy either. And he just looked at me and said “so you’re just a person.” Swear to god I had the biggest smile on my face when I told him that’s exactly what I was.

For the rest of the day he just called me Izzy instead of Ms something or any gendered title and I got a hug at the end of camp.

So if you say gender is too confusing for children to understand, I have a first grader who would tell you otherwise.

An old drawing I did on my mobile

Downton Rewatch (Season 1): part ii

- oh my gOD Bates get a hold of yourself. so william comes barreling through the door and spills Thomas’ tea all over him and thomas gets mad. and says something snotty. wow. call the constable, what an effing crime. like. now thomas has tea all over his clothes so he’s either got to go and change (which i’m sure he has just masses of other clothes no problem right) or wait for it to dry, during which time if Mr. Carson catches him he’s going to get a verbal thrashing. DO EITHER OF THOSE OPTIONS SOUND APPEALING. like I am the first to admit that thomas is the most…JUST THE MOST. but don’t treat him like he just ripped the head off of a baby lamb for having a reaction jesus BACK OFF BATES

- oh good lord when Daisy says, “i’d do anything for you” and Thomas glows - ACTUALLY GLOWS - with something like pride and wonder and genuine surprise. i mean in the next second his face shifts and he does this villainous little smirk sure yeah because that’s a weapon, that’s something to defend yourself with if you need it, something to use against other people duh. (honestly i don’t know how anyone who isn’t a slytherin makes sense of the world but okay) but in that moment before, there was bare vulnerability and it was fucking beautiful. shit. i’m gonna make a shitty gif of it because you guys have got to see this shit.

THOMAS. (90% of my live action commentary watching this show is just me yelling out in a pained and strangled voice THUHMASSS).

-this is a real live actual conversation that happens.

OB: [plotting against Bates} What we need to do is to make him a suspect when something’s really been stolen.

Thomas: How do we know anything’s been stolen?

OB: Because you stole it, you noodle.

You are both noodles, and this is a terrible idea.

- side note: how fucking spot on is it that when there are scenes happening in Carson’s office or the servants hall you can hear Mrs. Patmore and Daisy bickering in the background. I mean. I take this show to task for a lot but wow that is some tight storytelling.

- man do i miss the good ole days of Thomas and OB plotting and smoking in the courtyard. iconic.

- there is not much i find more delightful than Thomas saying “sod ‘em.” why can’t he have been given more dirty lines please…why is RJC’s ridiculous accent so fucking soothing. SEE HOW SOOTHED I AM. i am currently just a skin bag of loose bones and honey.

- Daisy and Mrs. Patmore are fuking underappreciated. Daisy misunderstanding Mrs. Patmore and thinking she’s supposed to poison the food while Mrs. P is away for eye surgery is one of the best and most subtle moments of comedic genius in television history.

- why is watching Thomas putting food in his mouth…so erotic. i did not ask for this. i was perfectly happy not knowing this about myself.

- okay so look. i am the first (okay maybe not the first) to admit that Thomas says and does some mean shit. he’s not perfect! some days…he is so overwhelmingly far from perfect that hypothetically you have to go have a good long talk with yourself in the bathroom mirror about why the eff it’s one o clock in the morning and you are lulling yourself to sleep with VIVID fantasies of putting a grown man in the bathtub, washing the pomade out of his hair, and seeing what kinds of noises he makes when you skritch the back of his head. hypothetically. i can only imagine that’s what it would be like because none of this is personal experience. but also let’s not pretend that i won’t defend Thomas to the everloving end. yes, it is not his finest moment to make light of a woman losing her pregnancy or a young person losing their mother, BUT for fuck’s sake why does no one seem to have a problem with people putting their hands on Thomas in violence, holy shit.

- aghhhhh the fact that Thomas holds himself so still, head so high and proud when he’s got bruises on his face. It is the Don’t Fucking Touch Me Stillness, cousin to his Blank Look of Shame, and you all know how i feel about that.

- hahahahahhah ohhhhhhh well fuck me i guess branson/sybil/gwen was the ot3 i didn’t even know i wanted. 

UP NEXT IN SEASON 2: THOMAS SURROUNDED BY MEN IN UNIFORM, HOW WILL HE DEAL (spoiler alert: badly and with lots of looks of PANGED LONGING)

things i’ve learnt from that episode of holby:

  • i could probs listen to bernie doing david attenborough impressions all day
  • i could probs watch bernie sitting back + just winging things + having bantz on aau all day
  • i love darla, 10/10, i’m a fan
  • i’m constantly genuinely surprised by how many ppl there r hanging around on darwin
  • every time sacha cries i also cry apparently
  • i’m here 4 the hoodies + tea intervention @ pulses
  • i love morven so much (the yellow sleeves/blue scrubs was gr8)
  • i’m actually lookin forward 2 ollie being on aau
  • jac + matteo continue 2 be a Mess
  • that old guy didn’t let me down bc he took the perfect opportunity 2 make a doctor who joke
  • 4ever a fan of hanssen looming

They will tell you stories, if you know how to listen. And I’ve always been good at that.

I didn’t know— not for sure— that there was anything strange here, before I was enrolled and had already been assigned my dorm; it was only on a whim that I applied at all. Elsewhere. A good school with a name, at least, that would let me pretend I was free.

When I was accepted, I went. It was a silly choice, chasing a thought, a dream that EU would make me someone else, would be something else, something that would let a daydreamer feel at home in the real world.

I didn’t expect that it really would.

I heard the whispers first: the wind through the trees, then the crows, then the RAs as they escorted us to our rooms, taking bets. It hadn’t even been half an hour before I could feel it, the cast of a story, the leaves outside sounding like pages of a book turning.

There’s nothing special about me, really, but I know how to get lost in a good tale. How to let it chew me up and swallow me and still be able to crawl back out.

I’m not brave— not any braver than anyone else, anyway. So I listened. And watched. And waited. And the whispers grew louder.

I can’t see a thing, without my glasses, and I’ve always doubted that even with the ones Cat’s Eyes sells I’d be able to See. My gifts are not so obvious, or so easily stolen away. Certainly I never even knew that they could be used, before, or even were there at all— but things are different here. This is Elsewhere, and here I not only know my cards but keep them close to my chest.

I’m known as Mentira. Falsehood. (I thought it was funny, before I knew how true it would become.)

Not that I lie, really, but I don’t tell the truth either; I don’t like taking risks, and I hear more than I should.

People begin to understand that, whether I mean them to or not— I can’t help it. It’s in the grapevine, so to speak, and I can read the whispers as clearly as words on a page, can feel the lines unfolding around me perfectly to script. It’s hard not to be around to see all of the interesting parts. So I get better at hiding it— iron and ramen packets can only do so much. I’ve existed quietly here; I like the stories, but I don’t want to be in them. I like knowing, but I don’t intend to do anything about what I hear, so it’s better to play like I don’t notice anything at all (however hard it is, at first, to do so).

I don’t write anything down. I’m not after remembering, or keeping anything that isn’t mine.

Sometimes, when it gets quiet, I sit under the old trees, soak up their songs, and I do risk whispering the poetry to the crows. It isn’t quite the same, but it’s similar enough that they, if no one else, probably realize what I’m doing… but they wouldn’t rat me out— I meant it as a kindness, nothing more or less— and I have always been careful. I listened.

I never listened too much. I know the feel of going too far under, getting held down by the cobwebs of someone else’s world, and I come up for air when it is too much. Too loud. Too obvious.

I went to class. Made friends with my roommate. Stayed away from the pool. The normal college experience. I never do anything.

But oh, the things I heard.
They will tell you stories, if you know how to listen, if you’re careful enough to avoid being caught.

Eventually I graduated. I left. But even when the memories were faded, the whispers never were, and they spread like roots.

I came back. I was called, maybe.
I was homesick, definitely.
I didn’t regret a thing, however much parts of myself seemed achingly empty whenever there were no faint murmurs to hide the holes, especially once they were being filled again.

I got a job, if it could be called that. Upon telling the interviewer what I could do, and offering as little proof as I could manage, he hired me on the spot and gave me an office, but no position. Occasionally kids would stop by, and more occasionally things playing at being kids, to ask me questions or talk for a while. I told them what I could, however I felt I could get away with it (being staff, after all, did not make me safe).

They started calling me Ms. Story, and it made me laugh a little whenever I heard it.
It made the crows laugh more.
It made Them laugh the most.

They tell you stories, if you know how to listen, if you can coax them out; eventually the students-who-were-not-students would bring me riddles, rambles, and nonsense, suspecting. They would follow me in my walks under the trees and hunt in my words for answers that I was never meant to know.

But I could hear the weight in their footsteps, and would always tread carefully myself. I was not there to do harm. I knew where the lines were drawn and danced respectfully around them. I knew too much, even being aware of that, but I stepped on no one’s toes and made no alliances or enemies.

I gave what I could to those who knew how to ask, Neighbors or no, and I’m still here, in my office.
Listening.

It’s been a while since anyone came by.

(X)

Hi. I’m not sure if you write SuperCat, but I sure need Cat Grant to get herself back to National City, or at least be involved from afar. Could you please write something where it’s Cat who comforts Kara after Homecoming? Many thanks.

^^ prompt above from @statuepuppie. Refers to this fic: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9122290/chapters/21551657

Maggie called Cat Grant when Livewire was on the loose, because her girlfriend’s kid sister needed her then. And she’s calling Cat Grant again now, because Kara needs her now.

She hadn’t expected the Queen of All Media to save her number, but Cat picks up on the first ring and addresses Maggie by name.

“Detective Sawyer, tell me she’s fine and that you’re simply wasting my very precious time for the sake of a social call.”

Her voice is clipped and just on this side of professional, but Maggie easily detects the concern underneath it.

“She’s fine, Ms. Grant, she’s fine.”

She hears Cat sigh and she bites her lip. “Then what, pray tell, are you calling me for?”

“She’s fine, Ms. Grant, but she… she needs you.”

She doesn’t specify who: Kara or Supergirl. She knows she doesn’t need to.

There’s a long pause, and Maggie is about to ask if she’s still there.

“What happened?” Cat asks before she can, and her voice is thick.

“Best for her to tell you details, but the short of it, Alex’s father came back from the dead only to sort of… well, betray everyone. And she’s in this new relationship that she thinks is going to make her feel at least something, and – “

“I’m getting the next flight out. Thank you, Detective Sawyer.”

Maggie expects that to be it, but Cat’s still on the line. A brief pause. Then:

“Alex. Kara’s sister. Your girlfriend, correct? Is she alright? She… from my experiences with her, she’s a brave woman. And Kara idolizes her. You’re taking good care of her, too, I trust?”

Maggie smiles softly. “I’m doing my best with both Danvers girls, ma’am, but I think Kara could use a more familiar face than mine.”

“Well, as I said, I’ll arrange for a sitter for Carter and be on the next flight out. Thank you, Detective. For taking care of those girls. Don’t forget to be good to yourself, too.”

This time, the line does disconnect before Maggie can say any more.

But she smiles, because Cat Grant is on her way to Kara.

She makes sure Alex knows to keep Mon-El away from Kara’s apartment that night. J’onn invents work for him, gladly.

They don’t need a body to be dropped in Kara’s apartment by one Cat Grant.

The paperwork alone would be more trouble than it’d be worth.

The sharp rap on the door makes Kara think of Maggie, so she doesn’t bother checking with her x-ray vision, doesn’t even bother untangling from her blankets or putting down her pint of mint chocolate chip.

“It’s open,” she calls heartlessly, wondering if Maggie is looking for Alex or if she’s looking for another round of speed stacking to take Kara’s mind off things.

“Well, Keira, I have to say, I expected your apartment to be an explosion of millennial mess and absurd color, but I have to admit, it has a certain charm to it.”

The ice cream scatters and Kara falls ungracefully off the couch in a tangled mess of blankets with a series of loud shrieks.

If Cat is at all surprised, she hides it well, but the sparkle in her eyes and the smile tugging at her lips give her away the moment before she springs into action.

“Are you alright?” she rushes forward, just in time for Kara to unravel herself from the blanket and spring to her feet.

She has to remind herself strongly of earth physics as, pretenses and professionalism be damned, she wraps Cat it a full-bodied hug.

“Ms. Grant,” she breathes over her shoulder, and Cat freezes for only a moment before fully returning the embrace, fingers grasping for dear life onto the back of Kara’s shirt.

Cat is the first to pull back, and she wonders if her own tears are reflected in Kara’s blue eyes. She wonders how she ever forgot quite how crystalline they are.

“I hear you’re having a rough time, Kiera, and if the pint of – is that mint chocolate chip? – is any indication, my source is quite correct – “

“Snapper’s been calling you about me? But he’s been liking my work, he – “

Cat is tsking, now, and moving around the living room, collecting the ice cream and spoon and blanket, rearranging everything into its former semi-order.

“Not Snapper, dear. Your sister’s girlfriend. Seems to think you would benefit from my presence.”

Kara stiffens and her eyes widen and Cat remembers how much she’s missed watching Kara adjust her glasses like this. “Ms. Grant, you didn’t need to come all this way, I – “

“Oh nonsense, Keira. What have I told you? You need to learn, competent and efficient and brilliant as you are, when to ask for help. You’re entitled to do so, you know. And you’re entitled to receive it.”

Tears swim in Kara’s steady eyes, and she’s forgotten how to form words.

Ms. Grant, back in National City. Ms. Grant, in her apartment. Ms. Grant, seeing her be a complete and utter wreck.

“Ms. Grant, really, I – “ She tries to object, just once more, but she can’t even get that far. Because her voice cracks and her knees give out and she collapses back onto the couch, hugging herself because she’s completely lost sense of what is real.

“Oh, Kara,” Cat breathes, and the sound of her name on Cat’s lips works its way into her skin, through her muscles, into her bones, into her bloodstream. Into her heart.

“I’m here, Kara. I’m here.”

“Thank you,” Kara chokes, and Cat just nods, sitting softly and putting a hesitant hand on Kara’s knee. Kara takes it immediately, and a soft smile flits over Cat’s face.

They don’t talk about Jeremiah, and they don’t talk about Mon-El.

They talk about CatCo and they talk about Carter and Cat’s mother and Alex and Maggie and Kara cries without words and Cat comforts without words and Kara sits up straighter and cries less and less throughout the night.

Cat even shares a spoonful of her ice cream, and it’s this, more than anything, that makes Kara smile. That makes Kara feel so, so loved.

To make Kara remember what it was like when her life was like this.

To make her realize what she has to do to get back to that.

She makes a note to thank Maggie in the morning, but for now, sitting on her couch with Cat Grant and laughing about Snapper, she doesn’t want the morning to come. Not just yet.

"Mermaid Tails and Face Plants"

Summary/Request: reader is a mermaid, she gets water dumped on her and changes into her natural form, Snape then helps her.

Note: Sorry it took so long. Also the format is weird because I uploaded this with mobile, I hate it but I haven’t been home lately.

》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》

“Do you ever have that feeling of impending doom? Or like something bad is going to happen?” You asked across the table to your two best friends.

“All the time,” Fred started.

“Usually because we did something that will get us in trouble.” George finished smiling.

“Well thanks for the comfort.” You sighed trying to shake off the feeling, “Well I’m gonna go back to my dorm.”

The boys nodded and started whispering to eachother.

Great, I’ll be the next victim of their next prank. You always knew when they were planning against you.

*******

The next time you saw the twins was at dinner. You had just finished eating as they strode in, a gleam in their eyes and a mischievous smile on their faces.

About the same time they came walking towards you Professor Snape was walking towards your table, probably to pick on Harry.

“Whoops!” Fred said with a laugh.

Water had soaked your robes, he had deliberately threw water at you. Your eyes went wide and you tried to run before

SMACK!

You face planted in front of the Great Hall.

“You dunderheads!! I told you I hate water!!” You screamed at them starting to feel sick and tired.

“You’re a…” Fred stopped.

“If we’d have known..” George didn’t finish his sentence.

“Ms. Y/L/N, are you alright?” Snape’s voice sounded far off, like he was in a tunnel and everything was blurry.

“A mermaid. You should have told us!” Fred finished George’s previous sentence.

“Y/N? ” Snape’s voice louder this time.

“Yeah, I’m…..I’m..Woah, there’s three of you Professor…I don’t know if the world could handle three of you sir.” You said, your focus going in and out.

“Wonderful, you still have your smart aleck personality. How disappointing.” Snape said with a scowl, “I’m going to take you to Madame Pomfrey, I’ll get you a potion to help.”

Snape swiftly bent down and picked you up, he struggled a bit at first, it was obvious he was no muscle builder, he muttered a spell under his breath and you felt weightless.

When you got to Madame Pomfrey’s quarters she had three other students to take car of.

“I…I’m cold professor. ” You said, your robes still soaking wet.

“Right.” Snape disappeared for a bit and came back with a towl.

“Thanks.” You said sleepily. You tried drying yourself off but you were exhausted, the transformation had drained your energy.

“Here. Let me help you.” Snape said with an annoyed expression but his voice seemed almost concerned.

You smiled, “ya know, your not half bad….for a scary professor.” You laid your head back on the pillow.

“I’m going to ignore that.” He said and handed you a blanket.

“It was supposed to be a compliment, but whatever.” You said rolling your eyes.

He took out a bottle from his robes, “Here, this should put you back into human form.”

“Should?” You asked.

“Unless I brewed it wrong, but I don’t brew things wrong.” He said in a superior tone.

You narrowed your eyes at him.

“What?” He said flattly.

“You’re just interesting, that’s all.” You said and drank from the bottle.

“Oh God this is aweful!” You said choking .

He chuckled at your reaction, “Most potions don’t taste great Ms. Y/N.”

“How am I supposed to know that, we don’t try the potions we make in class thank Merlin.” You retorted, your fin morphing back to normal.

He rolled his eyes, “I should expect not. Now to your earlier remark. Why did you call me ‘interesting’ Ms. Y/L/N?”

You thought for a moment, “May I speak freely sir?”

He narrowed his eyes at you, “Only this once.”

“You’re interesting because you’re such a jerk in class but you quickly come to the aid of a student who could be potentially bullied for her natural form, I find that…most intriguing is all.” You said shifting to your side and pulling the blankets up to your chin.

Snape went quiet, you were surprised he didn’t scold you for calling him a jerk. “You got her under control Severus?” Madame Pomfrey asked from across the room.

Snape nodded and she walked out again. He looked over at you and thought for a moment.

“What?” You said imitating his voice from ealier.

“You’re smarter than you seem Ms. Y/N.” And with that he walked out of the room.

Professor Snape was a peculiar human being.

Originally posted by my-harry-potter-generation

Lady in Red

Picture not mine

A/N: What do you guys think?

You were getting ready for your first premiere for a marvel movie, marvel was by far your favorite comic company because they had better quality & different type of superheroes with different backgrounds and personalities. You wore a tight red dress that had slits on the side but they only hit your thigh, you weren’t so sexy when it came to clothes although it was backless and hugged each part of you body making you look longer and sensual and even though it was your first premiere you didn’t let some random designer that you’ve never heard of style you, no you let your best friend (Y/BF/N) she had a passion for fashion and her custom designs would look better than any known designer because her work was based on the person and their comforts and assets not the other way around. “Damn I’m good , I mean look at your ass man.” She said in a dreamy voice while she placed her hand on her chin leaning on the bar, you rolled your eyes and put on your black heels even though no one would see them because your dressed reached the floor. “Do you think I may have over done it ?” You asked nervously, just because it was your first doesn’t mean you wanted to be the belle of the ball “You look absolutely stunning bitch, all the men are going to drool over you and some women as well.” (Y/BF/N) said winning at you, putting you at somewhat ease. You didn’t look absolutely regular but you didn’t feel stunning as you looked in the mirror your shoulder length hair was straight, you were a very fair amount of makeup that consisted of highlight, false eyelashes, a dab of concealer and lipstick but you felt more then comfortable with your look. 

You wore a single strand of diamond earrings and no necklace trying to keep as much attention away from your chest as possible, then you heard a knock that broke you out of your focus you watched as (Y/BF/N) ran over to open the door which revealed your driver of the evening “Ms. (Y/N) (Y/L/N), I’m Jared and I shall be your driver tonight the car is awaiting your entrance.” He said and walked right back to the car waiting for you “Are you sure you can’t come with me ?” You whined holding your best friend which caused her to laugh “No silly ! Now go out there and show them how bad ass you are!” She said hugging you for the support you so desperately needed. You nod kissing her cheek making your way to the car and you see Jared already standing by the door holding it open for you “Thank you Jared, that’s very kind of you.” You said softly smiling at the older man who returned your happiness, he closed the door behind you sand went back to the drivers seat silently driving to the premier and just as you were about to get out you heard “Knock me dead Ms. (Y/N), show them all who you are.” Jared said smiling at you widely and just his words gave you the extra push you needed to be yourself, you took a deep breath, relax and you had become (Y/N)(Y/L/N) blogger and marvels new story board creator. You smiled and nodded opening the door and not even a foot was out of the car when you heard the shutters but you didn’t freeze you continued to get the rest of you out of the car but once you did you wished you could immediately go back in , so many people were screaming your names, so many paparazzi members had been taking your picture but you held your head high, smiled and walked along the carpet until you were stopped for a few interviews with E!, Buzzfeed, Vogue and Insider after all those were done you had finally found your manager “(Y/N)! You look gorgeous, I almost didn’t recognize you! You’re working gold magic of all your interviews the fans are eating you up on twitter, so keep this up kid!” George said sticking up two thumbs.

 You respected George as a man but not so much a manager, he truly never cared about your career only his own so if you looked good he looked great but you nodded and smiled snapping a few more pictures as the night went along before the movie started and everyone needed to be seated. You were just finishing up your last picture when you heard a CRACK and then you felt yourself fall backwards, why backwards because you just so happened to be walking up a step when you fell. You didn’t open your eyes because you were waiting for the embarrassment to begin but no such thing happened because when you opened your eyes Chris Evans face was so close to your face , you felt his quiet breath “Are you all right?” He said with pure concern looking at you with worry “Yeah, my heel just snapped… so professional of me huh?” You said laughing which caused him to laugh “Hold on to my neck.” That was all he said when you felt your body begin to lift off the ground and you quickly wrapped your arms around Evans “What are you doing?” You asked him quietly looking at his side profile, shit was this man perfect from every angle. “I’m carrying you, I mean unless you want to limp around with your broken heels?” he asked looking at your broken heel in your hand you shook your head quickly blushing at him as you felt all the sparks hit you eyes, the paparazzi was truly eating this up whole, you felt your feet touched the cold floor “Looks like you got lucky because you’re my seat buddy.” Chris said placing you gently in your seat as he took his after “Thank you Mr. Evans…” you say blushing harder due to the embarrassment that you were now feeling “Please call me Chris, Ms. (Y/L/N)” he said and this shocked you, the Chris Evans knows your name.  “I make it my business to know everyones name, and I’ve seen you when we filming Civil War, I had to know your name the second I saw you.” You whispered in your ear causing you to look away from his so fast “Well Chris I appreciate your interest in me.” You said calming your face down from the red coloring.

 Just as Chris was going to speak again Stan Lee stood before the audience “Thank you all for coming and supporting my work and love, I hope you enjoy the latest edition to the Marvel franchise.“ He said loudly before exiting off the stage and on cue the movie began causing everyone to hush down “If you jump, I have a comfy landing for you (Y/N).” Chris said whispering in your ear causing you to blush once again shaking your head at his remark but he was some what right because you had ended up clutching his arm in pure suspense during one part of the movie but you kept your hand on his arm through out the movie watching in pure silence but you would look at him from the corner of his eye watching him every so often noticing him looking at you. Once the movie ended everyone stood up and clapped the movie was truly a work of art, and as you went to hug the cast for all the amazing and hard work to complete you find that the last cast member you didn’t speak to happened to be Chris Evans who was talking with fans, smiling and looking so damn good, you were going to walk passed him and congratulate him on twitter but Chris had over ideas as he grabbed your waist in front of everyone “Lady in red just where do you think you’paparazzire going you must take a proper picture with me.” he said posing you in front of him as his hands sat on your waist pulling you close to him and if the paparazzi didn’t eat you up before they were eating you both alive “Call me sometime.“ Chris said whispering in your ear putting a piece of paper in your hand before walking away from you which caused you to walk towards the nearest exit. 

You looked around for Jared and once you found him you hopped into the back of the car not saying a thing on your drive back home, you thanked him once again before wishing him a good bye and you had believed your night was finally over until you saw your best friend sitting on your couch with the TV on and thats when you froze, it was a picture of you and Chris when you fell and when he made you take a picture with him but the title is what truly caught your attention "Lady in Red takes Captain Americas Heart.”

Freshman Orientation (Meet Darryl)

Get caught up on the series here https://preciousluv35.tumblr.com/post/161264449201/freshman-orientation

College orientation. I been dreading this day since mid-May. Here I am now, guess this is one of the times I’d have to roll with the punches. My grandfather always told me to roll with the punches. Couldn’t help but feel like if he was still here I’d be at the University of Florida. That’s where I was slated to attend, but then the graduation fiasco happened.  I was a 5-star recruit at linebacker out of Florida. Three years barring an injury and I would be league bound. I had been on so many official and unofficial visits. The bribes were immaculate, every school seem to outdo the next. I was real life royalty. Now everything was a question mark. I was the big man on campus since my sophomore year. I led the state in tackles for two years, and was second in interceptions my senior year. I was something like the Prince of Zamunda. Graduation was just like any other day from the start. I got up, flipped on ESPN and switched between that and ESPNU.  

I had to be at the school at 2 that day and for the 4’oclock ceremony. I was ready for the shit to be over before it even started. Haircut, check.  Outfit, check. Smell good, check. Shit was smoother than Jamesha’s ass. Even the ceremony went swell. Probably a little too well. It proved to be just that. As everyone spilled out into the courtyard, I was getting mad love from all directions. Hell, all of us were. Ms. Jones approached me with her fine ass. “So, we still on for dinner?” her teacher voice was so sexy, but her tone off school grounds was on a whole different level.  

“Yeah, we’re solid.” I rebutted. I had been fucking Ms. Jones since the second semester of my junior year. That was when I had her for chemistry. It was crazy because our chemistry was tumultuous. She got off on me calling her Ms. Jones. We only showed affection away from school, obviously. Her helping me with SAT prep turned into a whole fling in a span of two nights. I guess since I was officially out of school, she felt it cool to approach, however harmless the initial intent. Ms. Tarver approached from my rear as Ms. Jones and I were still conversing.  “Darryl, you look mighty sharp.” Ms. Tarver blatantly interrupted as Ms. Jones was divulging her evening plans of dinner on the beach.  There had been tension since the beginning of senior year. Ms. Tarver was my English teacher. She was a redbone, slim thick with an ass that poked to tease the eyes of most. Ms. Jones was a chocolate Stallion.  Cakes, chest, smooth skin and had the wettest of pussies to compliment all her luxuries. Ms. Tarver wanted me. She had pressed up on me several times in school but I always managed to be saved. She did suck my dick one time though. It was an ACT prep Saturday class after the season ended. I was walking out to the student lot after everything had wrapped and she happened to be coming out of her class, just as I was passing by.  She asked if I was hungry and offered to take me to a spot up the road. She lured me in and me in my youth a nigga didn’t even see it. She suggested we head to her house as the place was crowded, “no pressure” I thought, and just vibed. In my mind I knew what was about to go down, and I wanted her too. Ms. Tarver talked as she moved about the house, while I sat in the den smashing my food. After a few minutes, she came back in a negligee. My fork dropped onto my plate. Instantly my dick began to elongate. She noticed my print and didn’t hesitate. The older women went for what they wanted and to me that was so sexy. She slurped me down extracting my seed, not even pausing. I wanted more but I had a meeting to attend. It was an unofficial in Coral Gables at UM. I never managed to catch back up with Ms. Tarver, but I had every intention of doing so, if given the opportunity.  In a perfect world we’d all parlay together, the three of us, but this would never be my reality. Too much animosity and pride would never allow such a magnificent congregation to take place. In fact, I knew they wanted to shoot the fade. I can’t lie a part of me was down to see that shit too.

Here I was on the auditorium courtyard now turned to a good old-fashioned show down. I guess women’s intuition led them to know they were each other’s competition. I never said a word, but I always noticed the side eyes each shot across the hall. Most niggas had students ready to scrap but my ass had teachers on that same shit crazy. “Don’t be rude Cynthia.” Ms. Jones said, giving Ms. Tarver a dirty ass look.

“Bitch please” Ms. Tarver mumbled under breath.

“Excuse me, what was that? See, I’m tired of your shit. I’ve been dealing with your bull shit all year.” Ms. Jones voice began to carry, turning heads.

“Marielle, I don’t have time for your posturing and shenanigans. Have some more class honey.”

Ms. Jones came across her shit with a mean backhand. Seemed like the whole courtyard said ooohhh… The lights from all the camera phones became blinding. I faded back as the crowd closed in rapidly, looking for that World Star moment. I turned around when I bumped into Celeste. She was about the only student who could have my attention. We made eye contact, and both headed to the lot. I asked if she’d mind getting me out of here. Originally Ms. Jones was supposed to take me to dinner but I wouldn’t touch her ass with a 10-foot pole right now. This debacle would surely be all over the net in 15 minutes. Celeste and I briskly navigated the maze of cars and made it to her Accord. As we got in, the crowd was just dispersing. “Where to superstar?” Celeste said it in a smug ass kind of way.

“Shit I’m hungry, you hungry?”

“I can eat.”

“I hope you still ain’t boujee like you used to be.”

“Oh, so you actually know something about me?” Celeste feigned a shocked expression. “I surely thought you were too busy taking trips across country and fucking faculty to remember.”

“What you talking bout lil mama?” I was trying to play it cool, but damn was it that apparent?

“Hmph, imma take you to my favorite spot to eat.”

I had gone to school with Celeste since 4thgrade, but she had always been somewhat of a mystery to me. I knew her well, but she was hard to figure out, if that makes sense. She was undoubtedly the prettiest girl in school, and I always had a thing for her, but I was consumed with all the other hoes that made it easier for me.  While most of them pegged me for the dumb jock, but she knew otherwise. I learned early in the game that people would try to be on my coat tails to just be along for the ride. I played the game to get as much gain as I could out of the situation.  Lil mama got shelved in the process but she was ever present internally.  We rode in silence as I noticed the beach exit was coming up. She banked of to the flyover to head to I-195.  She lowered the tunes. “Remember when you wrote that letter to me that summer you were supposed to be moving with your dad? That was so cute.” Celeste chuckled.

“What are you talking about? What letter? I never wrote no damn letter.” I had forgotten all about that damn letter. I had written that shit in like the seventh grade. At the time I felt like that was going to be the last time I saw her, so why not let it be known how I felt? The next school year we still ended up in the same school because my pussy ass pops backed out. That was when shit started getting awkward whenever I was around her. She knew how I really felt about her and I couldn’t handle it. I became reclusive towards her. By the time the spring came of 8th grade I was practicing with the high school and all the coaches and upper classmen ladies were salivating over me for clearly different reasons. I took on the persona and never really looked back. Half way through my 9thgrade season I was moved up to varsity and the local legend was born.

“You know exactly what letter I speak of. You can fool everybody else but I know what it is chump.” She looked over at me with the sweetest sassy look.

“Yeah you probably have more insight than most. Hell, you helped me on every project these last four years. So, what you saying?”

“Hmph… nothing.”

“What? Man, you flaw. How you going to leave it there like that?”

“You still hungry or nah?” She hopped out not obliging a single question. She handled me like others didn’t have the balls to do. But shit at 6’3” 230 lbs, running 4.41 in the forty 19 reps at 225 on paper but really, I’m hitting it 23 times. Celeste pandered to my inner teddy. I could only chuckle as this pretty, brown thing tortured me knowingly. Life thus far had kept me in its favor, yet this little 5’4” bombshell I’d known more than half my life was now my biggest mystery. I watched her ass switch in her dress as she led the way. I wanted to show her all Ms. Jones had taught me. We walked into the restaurant and it was apparent it had been here for eons. My nostrils instantly notified me that seafood was on the menu. I really was hoping to make Celeste my meal. I mean, it had crossed my mind during study sessions, but never on this level, it was always subtle, never this pressing in my frontal lobe. Little papi came from around back and with the most broken English, but somehow managed to get our order down. Though this felt like the kind of place that even if he got both orders wrong, no matter what came from the kitchen it would be bomb. I know she caught me staring into her beauty on several occasions. Like a G, she moved in silence. I couldn’t help but wonder if this would be it. Would this be the last time we’d vibe? In a week and a half I would be back in Gainesville. I had graduated early, in January. I was enrolled at UF and was prime for everything to take off smoothly.

We ate, reminisced, and made eyes at one another. An hour and a half later we found ourselves back at the car. “Let’s go get our feet wet.” I suggested. I wasn’t ready to leave this moment just yet.

“What you trying to do here?” She was calling bull shit.

“Man, what the hell you talking about?” She knew I wanted her.

“They take you for the customary dumb black jock boy, but I see through you. So, like I said nigga, what you trying to do here?”

“Last time was a false alarm but this time…. This time I think it’s real. I may not see you again after tonight, if not for a long time, maybe ever. I’m not sure I’m ready to live life without you.” Speechless she made her way to me. Her hands wrapped my neck, mine found her thick cakes. Our lips sent fireworks into the atmosphere, never mind if they were only visible to us. We crossed Collins Ave. to find the looming darkness approaching from the open ocean. Feet dug in deep now. Life didn’t have a more perfect feel. Crazy all the fame, hoes, and bribes couldn’t compare to this. “Promise me if I make it to the SEC Championship that you’d come see me play in Atlanta.”

“Boy Imma be all the way in Louisiana. How…”

“I’d fly you there.”

“We’ll see.” Our lips again met and hands began to get life. Exploring. Her softness on my hardness. My chiseled flesh brushing her curves. She made a nigga feel like I could take on the world. The tide caught us immersed in passion. No fucks of what the world had going on around us. I picked her up and we drifted with the current until she was waist deep. I squatted making my thighs a perfect place for her to perch. Her dress floated to the surface, leaving just her and her boy shorts at my disposal. She undid my belt buckle. Swollen and ready her hands wrapped my thickness. “Damn you feel good in my hand Darryl. I want you inside me. I been dream of this for years. Its time I let you know how I feel about you.” She pulled me close by my dick. Slid her panties to the side splitting my rod with her pussy. It took a sec foe me to get in with us being in water and all, and here I was thinking water was a natural lubricant. We found our rhythm and we were grinding in the darkness to the motion of the ocean. That was the first time a nigga came in some pussy. Love was never more real than in the moment we shared.

Short lived was the euphoric high. It was a quarter til 12 when we pulled in front of mom’s crib. There was what looked to be media across the street. I thought damn what’s going on over there. Before getting out we sat and wrapped shit up. I didn’t know what this meant in the grand scheme of things but I knew every day until I went back to school I wanted to spend with her. I thanked her and kissed her, I too let it be known I wanted to see her tomorrow.  As I stepped out I made it 7 paces before I was rushed.

A million and one questions came from every direction. I managed to see Celeste in the crowd but was unable to reach her. I bolted for the door. Once inside Mom rushed me as well. “Boy please tell me this is all a lie.”

“What are you talking about mom?” She pulled out her phone and showed me the fight from earlier. The caption reads (Teachers fist fight over student they both have an affair with).“Fuck!!!!!!”

So here I am at Southern University’s orientation. I fell from greatness to my favorite HBCU.  Here I was still big man on campus, but suddenly my pool was so much smaller than it once was. I was just like all the dumb jocks before me. The key thing Ms. Jones used to make me feel comfortable was the fear tactics of how high school girls could get me cased up and ruin my future, and yet look at me, I still fucked up. So, it was fuck bitches. I had an uphill battle now to live out my dream. The world had birthed an asshole. Losing my scholarship made me so hungry. I was going to shit on the world like it had shitted on me. 2 months of hiding and barely being able to do the one thing you’ve loved and done since you were 5 will do that to you. Savage life for 3 years and we going for the check.

The love I was getting made me feel like I was back home in High School. There were so many bad bitches. I was making a mental note of all the hearts that would be trampled. There was one I made eyes with that reminded, me of Celeste. She was every bit as sexy as my lil mama. Shit was so crazy I hadn’t seen her since that night. This little thing was a hair lighter in complexion and she had an aura about her that let the world know she was every bit of the shit as you thought she was. A room full of dames and I wanted to know her name.

2

Ms. Marvel: No Normal
Ms. Marvel
(2014-2015) #4

Who am I? It seems like an easy question. And then I realize… Maybe what I said to those cops wasn’t a joke. Maybe the name belongs to whoever has the courage to fight. And so I tell them.”

“You can call me Ms. Marvel. And if you cooperate, I won’t throw you again.”

“I tell them who I am.”

Everything about this moment, from the simple aesthetic of a made-at-home costume to the realization Kamala has to her blatant confidence stepping up to the role, everything is amazing and I love it so much.

Into the Woods

I am so excited by the latest Klaroline news! So, I couldn’t help but write another post TVD drabble. This is dedicated to the amazeballs Steph @klarolinedrabbles - and so too the wonderful birthday girl Angie - @thetourguidebarbie - for the most beautiful comments on their tumblr blogs. Also big thanks to Ravyn - @cupcakemolotov - and Megan - @megansarah11 - for their assistance on twitter, much appreciated ladies!

The Magic School hosts a Father-Daughter campout in Mystic Falls. After Alaric comes down with the flu at the last minute, Caroline has to step in and take the twins instead, unexpectedly running into a certain Mikaelson. (Points of view will vary between locations, hope you like it!)

5 years 1 month post TVD finale…

Meeting Point

Even though it was still light, the temperature had dropped a few degrees while they’d been driving. Caroline pulled her jacket around her body to ward off the chill as she stepped out of the jeep. The twins were in the backseat, excitedly taking in the flurry of activity around them. If only she was as excited about sleeping outside in a tent with giggling tweens and their fathers.

This was supposed to be a father-daughter campout but Alaric had come down with the flu, probably of the male kind which she decided was entirely too convenient. Caroline had camped out numerous times and wouldn’t have minded except for the fact that she had to cancel her pampering spa weekend with Bonnie and Elena. It was difficult not to think about them indulging in sun tanning, facials, massages and copious amounts of red wine while she had to endure incessant talk about Justin Bieber, Kylie Kardashian and whoever else.

Josie and Lizzie jumped out of the car, running towards their friends who were milling around with their fathers in tow. By the looks on some of their faces, they felt the same way as Caroline.

“Yeah, thanks for the help, girls,” Caroline called after them sarcastically as she unloaded the bags from the trunk.

“Ms Forbes,” a familiar voice said by way of a greeting. “You look as excited as I feel.” Caroline turned to face Hope dressed in dark jeans, a black sweater and a grey woollen jacket, her freckles sprinkled over her nose and those auburn locks tied back in a loose ponytail.

She would be lying if she didn’t see Klaus in the young girl’s face every time they spoke. It had taken a while to get used to not reacting from the familiar expressions she’d wear (especially that deep set frown when she was concentrating) but after four years at her magic school Caroline was an expert at pretending she wasn’t effected by her father’s resemblance. Plus, it didn’t hurt that she’d grown closer to the youngest Mikaelson. Hope was extremely studious, talented and a complete over achiever, a tag she herself had worn back in the day at Mystic Falls High.

“Are you kidding, this is going to be fun!” She embellished, a big grin plastered on her face. “And what did I tell you about calling me Ms Forbes?”

“Not to do it,” she murmured, her face slightly downcast. She was always so surprised that a Mikaelson could be shy at times, especially with such colourful and demanding relatives. “Sorry, force of habit.”

“I think you’ve been around your uncle too long with all that unnecessary decorum, Hope. Speaking of your Uncle, where is he?”

To say she’d been surprised that Elijah was accompanying Hope on a camping trip of all things was an understatement. Not only because she assumed Klaus would want to spend quality time with his daughter but also if Elijah would be correctly attired for the outdoors given all he seemed to own was expensive suits.

“He’s not coming,” she admitted. “Something, uh, came up.” Caroline resisted the urge to roll her eyes, first her father and now her uncle. Caroline only hoped that missing out on such an important occasion was worth whatever drama they were whipping up in New Orleans.

When Hope had come to the Magic School all those years ago, Caroline assumed Klaus would be appearing frequently on their doorstep, offering his unwanted suggestions on her teaching methods and checking that Hope was receiving ample opportunities and tuition. But he wasn’t, only making selective appearances over the years. In fact she’d been quite frustrated by that very fact. Bonnie had questioned her ire a few months back, suggesting that maybe it wasn’t Hope she was only worried about. She hadn’t bothered to respond just sent a dirty look her best friend’s way. She might have been a witch but she was way off track Caroline had told herself.

“I’m sorry,” she empathised, suddenly angry they couldn’t even muster one male Mikaelson to chaperone Hope. Caroline would even take bossy Rebekah at this point, not that the Original Princess would be the camping type. “Alaric is sick, so you can just hang with us, sweetie.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean no one was coming,” she shared. “Uncle Kol should be here any minute.” Caroline raised her eyebrows thinking that maybe she shouldn’t have questioned Elijah’s credentials given his substitute. This should be an interesting campout to say the least, she was already imagining his incessant whining as they trekked to the camp site. At least with those childish tendencies he’d fit in well with the other kids.

“Well, that’s great,” she uttered, trying to sound convincing.

“Can I help you with those bags, Caroline?” She offered, holding out her hand to take Lizzie’s backpack. Caroline’s face softened, thinking just how much she adored the young Mikaelson, she was always so generous, kind and well mannered. Maybe she should be thanking Elijah for that decorum after all.

“No, let me,” a familiar voice interrupted, taking the bag from her hand and causing every hair to stand up on that particular arm. He was here and Caroline wasn’t quite sure what to do and given the dry feeling in her mouth she was beginning to realise that forming words was going to be equally as difficult.

“Dad!” Hope exclaimed excitedly as he placed the backpack on the ground so he could embrace his daughter. Caroline would be lying if their impromptu show of affection didn’t cause her to melt slightly. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m going on the father-daughter campout,” he baulked, incredulously. “Last time I checked I possessed the proper credentials. Not too sure about you though, love.” Caroline was still trying to come to terms with his unexpected presence, let alone the fact that his tight, navy henley hugged his toned chest and she could see those necklaces she knew so well poking out teasingly underneath.

“But you said you couldn’t come.”

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” he conceded. “Did you really think I’d send either of your uncles in my place?”

“That’s a shame, we could really have used some of Elijah’s…”

“Dress sense,” Klaus intervened. Bastard.

“No just sense in general,” she drawled, resisting the urge to childishly poke out her tongue. What could she say? The Original Mikaelson brought it out in her.

“So, where is Alaric? I thought when the brief was father-daughter that meant…”

“I don’t have to explain myself to you,” she hissed, trying not to gain Hope’s attention that had been briefly averted by a school friend. “I run this school so it’s only right that I supervise.” His eyes never left hers, those sinful, crimson lips curving into a knowing smirk and flashing a few stray dimples her way for added effect.

“But yet you felt the need to explain anyway,” he grinned cheekily, boldly moving a step closer. Obviously he was trying to keep their conversation private too or was it just his excuse to flout his spicy aftershave in the vicinity of her poor, unsuspecting nostrils? When it came to Klaus Mikaelson, Caroline was always going to think the worst. That defence mechanism had worked well for her this long at least.

“We really should get going,” she excused herself, pretending that the shivers she felt were due to the falling temperature and not Klaus and his close proximity. She looked back briefly noticing Hope’s overjoyed expression, suddenly feeling bad for begrudging his presence. All Caroline needed to do was get through the next day and she’d be okay. “Easier said than done”, she mumbled under her breath as she watched him teasing Hope playfully.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Random story! Me and my girlfriend live in sketchy neighborhood and many burglaries happen in here. A while back my gf was out of town and I got home from work. Nothing weird, I went to take a bath. Then I heard someone coming into the bathroom and freaked out obvs. Conclusion: I blinded him with liquid soap and beat the shit out of him. Naked. It turned out to be my gf's stepbrother I'd never seen before who we promised to let crash at ours. I'd forgotten it. He still call me Ms Naked Ninja

LMFAO oh my god 😭😂

“Captain Rogers. Thank you for agreeing to speak with me, sir.” The woman had beautiful gray hair at her temples and a firm handshake that reminded Steve of Peggy.

“Please don’t call me ‘sir,’ Ms. West,” Steve said, forcing himself to smile. “It doesn’t feel right.”

“All right,” she said, sitting where he indicated. “I really just have the one question. I don’t know that I’m going to publish it, either.”

“Well, I read your book,” Steve settled on the sofa, folding his arms over his chest. “It was good. Probably the only one that really got deep into who Bucky was, and not just who he was to me.”

West paused, biting her lip, then spoke more quietly. “That’s actually the question I wanted to ask.”

Steve held his breath for a moment, then let his arms drop so his hands were in his lap.

“You don’t have to answer,” she said, shoulders tensing up, voice wavering slightly. “And I’m not going to write it down, or record it anywhere. I’m just asking for my own edification.”

“Ask, then,” Steve said, his lower lip twitching, eyebrows knit.

West drew in a deep breath, watching his face as she spoke. “Some historians speculated, but I never did. I was careful not to, honestly, I wanted to capture Sergeant Barnes on his own, as much as possible. I got an interview with Jacqueline O'Conner back in the nineties, and she’s the one who told me that Mrs. Barnes was buried with his Confirmation pendant and your mother’s wedding ring.”

Steve nodded. He was holding his breath again. When he realized, he let it out, slowly.

“I didn’t examine that at the time,” West continued shakily. “I wasn’t writing about you, so it didn’t need to go in depth, not in the book.”

“Right,” Steve said. His voice sounded hollow, distant, like an echo from his mouth.

“She called me after the book was published,” West said, trying to square her shoulders. “Said she had a correction for me. You didn’t give Mrs. Barnes the ring, she said. He did. It was on the necklace when he gave it to her for safekeeping, and the ring was why he didn’t take it with him in the first place.”

Steve made a sound. It wasn’t anything that could be captured in a note- not a grunt, not a gulp, not, as he let go in the next breath, an uncertain, half-gasped laugh.

“I just wanted to know why,” West said, looking down at her lap, then back up at his face. “Why Sergeant Barnes had your mother’s wedding ring.”

“He had it because I gave it to him,” Steve said, quiet and flat.

“Why?” West echoed, voice quivering again.

His mouth twitched and he licked his lips. He gulped, then, looking down at his lap, then looked up and met her eyes. It wasn’t his Captain America stare, it was a softer look, one she’d never seen in a picture. Even that legendary chiseled jaw looked like it could tremble any second. It ached in her chest to look. She wished she could take the question back.

He shrugged, looking at the ceiling, then back at her. “Why does a broke fella usually give away his mother’s wedding ring? It was all I had.”

“You were-” she hesitated again, hated herself for it.

“The law doesn’t matter much when you’re twenty and stubborn,” Steve said, shrugging again, just a small bounce of his chiseled shoulders. “We were married. From the fall of thirty-eight until the train. Most of the best days of my life.”

West’s chest was tight. She rubbed at the hollow of her throat. “You’ve been back a while,” she murmured. “Why haven’t you told anyone?”

“If Jackie knew, and she didn’t tell,” Steve said, looking straight into her eyes, “who am I to out Buck posthumously? He didn’t even get a proper burial. I didn’t want his Last Rites taken back.”

She swallowed again. The air felt thick as soup.

“His husband,” she said. Her own voice was far away.

Steve sat back in his chair. “Nobody needs to know that but me. You aren’t going to tell anyone, either. Not against his family’s wishes.”

West nodded weakly. “If that’s what you want, of course I won’t.”

“Thank you,” Steve said. There was silence, and then he moved to get up. “Coffee?”