chair twist

Imagine: After nearly losing you during a case, Spence confesses his feelings to you.

After an excruciating long and painful day on the job, the team has finally landed back in DC, ready to say goodnight and head home, only to do it all again tomorrow. Your overnight bag hits the floor beside your desk with a loud thump as you collapse in your chair. A painful twist deep in your stomach causes you to wince, the memories of the day flooding back to you. 

You were first to arrive at the unsub’s house. Not bothering to wait for back up, you entered the house alone, with nothing but a gun and your fists to protect you. The unsub attacked you from behind, knocking you out. When you awoke, you were strapped down to a bed. Instinct set in and you tugged away at the restraints around your wrists. Eventually the unsub entered the room again and well..climbed on top of you. While struggling with the unsub, he managed to stab you in the stomach-thankfully, missing any major organs and arteries. He raised his arm once again, positioning himself to bring the knife down on you once again when suddenly, your colleagues burst in the room. At that same moment, you blacked out with no recollection of what happened next. The team had argued for you to stay at the hospital overnight, but you, being stubborn as hell, refused. 

You stand up before your colleague, and closest friend, Spencer Reid can take notice of your obvious pain. Gathering your things, you make your rounds around the building, bidding a warm goodnight to each one of your team members. You absolutely hate the feeling of being hovered over and can’t wait to go home to your own bed. As you push open the heavy glass door, a frantic voice advancing towards you invades your ears. 

“Wait!” Spencer pleads, now only a few feet from you, “You really shouldn’t be alone tonight, you were bleeding out only 7 hours and 36 minutes ago.”

“I’m fine, Spence.” you reassure him with a soft smile. 

“Oh really? So you weren’t holding your stomach and wincing in pain about five minutes ago?” he raises an eyebrow at you. You remain quiet, unable to defend yourself, biting your lip, your eyes trailing to the ground, “You’re walking when a limp when nobody is watching you-and something tells me you won’t be able to sleep soundly tonight-”  

“What are you trying to say?” you whisper, your voice breaking in a desperate attempt to hold it together, “I can handle myself just fine.”

“There’s no doubt in my mind that you can.You are so strong and brave…it’s just that you almost died today, I-” he pauses, his eyes meeting yours, “I almost lost you today.”

“But you didn’t.” 

“I watched that man straddle you, nearly plunging the knife into your heart. By the time I was at your side, you were unconscious. The blood was everywhere and-” 

You have never seen the genius like this before, nearly shaking at the memory, unable to contain his emotions. 

“I just can’t lose you.” he repeats, “Ever since you walked into the room that one foggy’ve changed me.” Your lips part in shock as your heart begins to pound like a drum in your chest. Now he reaches down, taking your hands in his own. “You’ve taught me that life isn’t just about facts and statistics.” he continues, “It’s about the moments you have in between. Whenever I’m with you, I’m happy. I guess what I’m trying to say here is that I can’t bare to live a life without you in it.” 

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Taking a step closer to the profiler, you close any space between the two of you as your fingers intertwine with his, carefully pressed between both of your chests. You peer up at him through your long lashes, gazing into his welcoming chocolate brown eyes. Then, in one swift movement, you step onto your tiptoes, ignoring the slight pain in your stomach as your lips meet his in a long, passionate kiss. 

  • soo-won: these are my conditions
  • kushibi: no pleASE NO
  • soo-won: one, you'll free all the slaves. two,
  • kushibi: I BEG U i'll do ANYTHING
  • soo-won: you'll take both forts down. three,
  • kushibi: omgomgOMG
  • soo-won: you'll give me this stylish portable chair you're sitting on. i never get to have such fancy things. maybe if i carry it everywhere, i'll be taken more seriously. like a king, not some greenhorn do-gooder with degree. Ju-doh, will you carry it for me?
  • ju-doh: no.
  • soo-won: welp. you're lucky kushibi, you get to keep your chair.
  • kushibi: ( •̀ᄇ• ́)ﻭ✧
Happy reunion? ; closed starter

@that-dashing-moron you don’t have to match the length I just have tons of muse ;;

Footsteps draw near his chamber. Ah, he’s coming, he thinks. About time he gets curious about the change.

He adjusts his position in the chassis. It’s more like some kind of chair, a throne, with twisting cords connecting to various parts of his body, like his neck, shoulders, and back. Black and red quickly shifts to white and orange, his demeanor lightening at the thought of seeing that friend of his.

“…ah, hey! It’s been ages, yeah? Almost literally. Wheats, isn’t it? Unless I’m not remembering that correctly… nonetheless, I’m guessing you were wondering why this place isn’t so sadistic anymore. Am I correct on that?”

He turns to face where Wheatley will be coming into the chamber, one leg propped over another, hands folded neatly in his lap, a friendly expression on his face.

There’s something gnawing at him deep in his mind. Something bad, something coming from that chassis. It’s… nothing, right?

You survived the first family gathering post election as well as the hellish shopping nightmare known as Black Friday. Time for some self care. Throw your yoga clothes in your bag and join me Monday at 7:30pm @lucentyoga for some detoxifying and rejuvenating Vinyasa Flow. Expect plenty of twists to wring it all out and leave you feeling refreshed.

anonymous asked:

Yoongi's reaction to his s/o bringing him food and coffee while he works on his studio? Like making sure he always has something around him to eat without annoying him


“I’m so going to make fun of you for this.” He tells you when you se the basket down in front of him. Taking his feet off of his desk, he put his arm over your shoulder, watching as the new trainees stop staring at you then.

“I already imagined your worst reaction, I don’t care. You’re going to have this to eat, just so that I can feel a little more reassured.” You say, rolling your eyes at him.

With an open hand he brings you back around to his desk, letting you sit in his big spinny chair, where you twist around a little bit and watch him unbox all of the food you’d brought.

“How are classes going? It must be pretty bad if you’re so desperate to distract yourself that you’d turn to such granola-eating-health-nerd-snacks.”

“I have to admit, you’re getting a bit more creative with your words.”

“It is lyric-writing time.” He laughs. “I love you. Go home and get some sleep after this, okay? That will make me feel more assured.”

Originally posted by bangtannoonas

In Arkham...

It was dark, raining, a petrichor scent climbing higher over the stink of blood and soil that surrounded the dismal place, but not even the thunder of the water on the rooftop could drown out the moans and cries of the mentally ill. 

Lightening ripped through the sky and shed strange bright spots and eerie shadows throughout the psychologists office, making it all the more unnerving let alone the patient lashed to the chair. 

Blanched flesh, a twisted red mouth like a gaping wound, piercing browless eyes focused dead ahead…unblinking, as his head rolled upon his shoulders… he looked a fright, and forever focused on the person before him “Nice…night for it” and he flashed a grin, coated in glossy metal. 

If I stand by the ledge
And I decide to take the jump
Would you catch me if I fall?
Or would you sit there in a lump?

If I pressed the loaded gun
Against my little fragile skull
Would you smack the gun out of my hands?
Or would you watch me disconnect my soul?

If I tied a noose around my neck
And stood upon a twisted chair
Would you untie the death contraption?
Or watch me choke as you stand there?

Life is such a Dainty word
With endless meanings upon
You never
Know who would spare your own
Or watch what you have done

Woohoo! The weekend is here along with gorgeous blue skies and a warm breeze. Time to shake off the workweek stress, forget that large check we just wrote to the IRS and open ourselves mentally and physically to some amazing days ahead. Join me today and this weekend in class so you can feel your very best. ✨
Sangha Yoga Shala in Williamsburg
Fri 2pm - Yoga Express Hour
Sat 11am - Core Vinyasa
Sun 5pm - Vinyasa

Although it is indeed warmer today, it’s not quite cocktails at your favorite sidewalk cafe time yet. So if you’re going to spend your evening inside, it may as well be with me, doing yoga. ☺️. Come to Sangha Yoga Shala at 6:30pm tonight for Power Hour Vinyasa and get your body and mind prepped for Spring.

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Slightly’s eyes slowly opened to the still barren tent, the difference in light from earlier enough of a sign that a fair amount of time had passed. The soft tail was starting to tickle the back of his legs while the maid costume remained as embarrassing with the cat ears as it had been before. Not embarassing, Xander asked him to do this. Walking over to the desk, he sat down in the chair before quickly twisting his hips, realizing the mistake of trying to sit on something hard with the plug in. Finally he settled on folding his legs beneath him, sitting like that while grabbing one of the colored pencils to sketch on the abandoned sheet of paper in front of him while humming quietly along to the tune of the song Xander sang to him a while back.

Fresh Starts and Flirtations Ch 11: Bite the Bullet

A/N I cannot believe how long it has been since I have updated this story. Sorry. I have had this chapter half written for weeks but I have had some MAJOR writers block issues/crisis of confidence/general life stuff get in the way.

I hope this chapter makes up for the wait!

Also on AO3 and FF.NET

It is impossible to shake off the feeling.

Almost a week has passed since her date with Killian. A busy workload had prevented more than an exchange of text messages between the two and truthfully she was thankful.

Pen clenched between her teeth, she tries to clear her mind and finish composing the memo that has already occupied far more of her time than it warranted. But as her fingers hover over the keyboard, all she can think about is him.

Kicking herself mentally, she sighs and leans back in her chair. Twisting around to peer out of the window behind her she looks out onto the quiet Maine town that she now calls home. This situation with Killian was not what she signed up for. Moving was supposed to make life easier. A fresh start was going to give her and Henry a clean slate. Yet, those all too familiar feelings of uncertainty had raised their ugly heads.

And she knows it’s because she likes him. God, more than likes him, if she is honest. But up until now everything between them had been a bit messy and ambiguous and Emma Swan craved order and surety (a consequence of a complicated childhood, she mused ruefully).

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