except she did most of it

gruviafullbuster  asked:

Your review on Chapter 545 made me laugh so hard! XD I'm a huge Gruvia shipper but I agree with most of the things you said about them. Except for one thing. I don't think Gray would drag just any girl away if she stripped in front of everyone. Juvia has been stripping for a while now and every time she has, Gray has basically dismissed it. This time, however, he did it because he didn't want anyone to see 'his girl' half naked. This is just my view on it.

Ahh, I’m glad you liked it! I took a sort of pleasure in writing it :) Re: Gray and Juvia, I sort of interpreted “Gray getting Juvia away from Gildarts specifically who was perving on her” being something he’d do for any girl (because Gildarts was being horrible). But given the way canon’s lining up I think you might be right ^^;

Mavis is an interesting case, because how dead she was wasn’t really explained. Precht didn’t consider her dead; he said her heart had stopped beating but her magic was still active, so there was a chance of reviving her. And her actual soul didn’t move on and was still lingering for a century after the fact. So even if her body had died if her soul hadn’t moved on I don’t think reincarnation was possible. 

It’s a bit of a strange case… if Mashima had actually gone with a “ten-fiften years in the future” thing and shown Zeref and Mavis then I’d be fine with it, but as is it’s a little bizarre. (Also because Future!Lucy got shown in something that might have been heaven when she died, so…?)

i think the most egregious example of the manic pixie dream girl trope was this play i but I just remembered seeing it, several years ago… 

it was about this sad-sack guy driving across the country to try and reunite his old band for one last show

he’s accompanied by this girl who he was in the band with, back in the day… and he was in love with her then, and she’s cool & smart & funny & talks only to him for the entire play, even when the rest of the band joins him on the drive

& at the end of the play it turns out that she was a ghost the whole time, nobody else in the play could see or hear her, & the ‘last show’ he kept referring to is actually going to be her funeral wake bcs she died..

That her ghost had accompanied them on this trip bcs he was grieving & she wanted to help him let go of her…

which, you know, was a surprise & it was really emotional & legit the play was pretty good

But I just started thinking about it randomly…

And I keep being struck by the fact that the play only works if the entire audience is so used to the idea that a female character would literally only speak to the main male character for the entire length of a narrative.

Would only converse with him, interact with him, even when there were other people around.

That even as he talked about what he was doing next, she never discussed their future goals. She never touched any props or anyone other than him. 

That nothing she did or said would genuinely have anything to do with herself as a person, except in the context of how he felt about her. 

The entire play hinges on the audience not expecting anything hinky about a female character who acts like that,

& most of the audience bought it, hook, line, and sinker.

even I did. there was genuine feeling of surprise in the room

and I just…

A woman can literally be an incorporeal ghost & as long as she is emotionally supportive of a man we see her as a fully realistically person

if that isn’t a sad indictment of how female characters get treated idk what is, honestly

ETA: FOR THE LOVE OF HECK, THE POINT OF THIS POST IS NOT ‘CHARACTERS ARE SECRET GHOSTS SOMETIMES’, PLEASE STOP CITING THE SIXTH SENSE.

THE POINT OF THIS POST IS I CAN THINK OF MANY OTHER STORIES WHERE THE OSTENSIBLY FLESH-AND-BLOOD FEMALE ROMANTIC INTEREST OF THE HERO COULD HAVE BEEN REVEALED TO HAVE BEEN A INCORPOREAL GHOST AT THE END OF THE STORY.
AND THE REST OF THE NARRATIVE WOULD STILL WORK FINE, BECAUSE SHE WAS OTHERWISE THAT UTTERLY LACKING IN AN INTERIOR LIFE.

anonymous asked:

Hey, dumb American question here. Every UK person I have ever met hates Margaret Thatcher. Why? What terrible thing did she do to piss off that many people for so long?

Where do I fucking start?

So, Thatcher was the bane of the working classes, and much of what she did still has repercussions to this day. So, in no particular order, just in the order I remember them, here are some things she did that pissed us off - 

• In 1989 she introduced this thing called the “Community Charge” but which everyone calls the “Poll Tax” which replaced an older system in which your tax payment was based on the rental value of your home. This new tax meant that people living in one bedroom flats would pay the same as a billionaire living in a mansion. Obviously, the rich loved it, everyone else… not so much. So there were riots (video of news about the riots) - There were lots of riots in the Thatcher years, and they were all notable for the extreme levels of police brutality.

(photo, poll tax protest in Trafalgar Square, 1990)

• Then there was her war on industry. There was a lot of inflation when she came to power, so she instituted anti-inflationary measures. All well and good… except not the way she did it. She closed many government controlled industries, most famously steel and coal. The amount spent on public industries dropped by 38% under Thatcher. The coal miners went on strike, for almost a year, but in the end, the pits were still closed, and 64,000 people lost their jobs. Unemployment rates soared in industrial areas, and inequality between these (generally northern or welsh) areas and the rest of the UK is still there. During the strike there were numerous violent clashes with the police at picket lines which were widely televised. As a memoir from one miner attests: “ I saw a police officer with a fire extinguisher in his hand, bashing a lad in the back. I tried to get closer to note down the officer’s number but they were wearing black boilersuits with no numbers. The next thing I knew, a police officer struck me from behind. I was coming in and out of consciousness as I was dragged across the road into an alleyway. They blocked off the alley and beat another lad and me with sticks until I was unconscious.” (I can’t post the whole thing it’s too long, but read it in the Guardian) Images such as this swept the country, turning many people against Thatcher -

And after it was all over people felt Thatcher had lied, saying she wanted to close only 20 pits, when in the end, 75 were closed down.

• Inequality soared whilst she was prime minister. There is a thing called the gini coefficient, it is the most common method of measuring inequality. Under gini, a score of one would be a completely unequal society; zero would be completely equal. Britain’s gini score went up from 0.253 to 0.339 by the time Thatcher resigned.

• During her time as prime minister the notorious ‘Section 28′ was published. It stated: A local authority shall not (a) intentionally promote homosexuality or publish material with the intention of promoting homosexuality; (b) promote the teaching in any maintained school of the acceptability of homosexuality as a pretended family relationship. - Section 28 wasn’t repealed until 2003.

• She introduced the Right To Buy scheme, which allowed people to buy their council houses for a very low price, which, at first glance, seems like a great idea, allowing people who normally wouldn’t be able to afford their own home to have one - however, loads of people have entered the scheme and now we have far too little social housing, meaning there has been a sharp rise in homelessness.

• The Battle of the Beanfield was a clash between hippies and police near Stonehenge in 1985. 1300 police officers converged on a convoy of 600 new age travellers who were heading to Stonehenge to set up a free festival in violation of a high court order. Again, there was an insane amount of police brutality, and 16 travellers were hospitalised, 573 people were arrested (one of the biggest mass arrests in UK history) - “Pregnant women were clubbed with truncheons, as were those holding babies. The journalist Nick Davies, then working for The Observer, saw the violence. ‘They were like flies around rotten meat,’ he wrote, ‘and there was no question of trying to make a lawful arrest. They crawled all over, truncheons flailing, hitting anybody they could reach. It was extremely violent and very sickening.’” (source) - Once everyone was arrested, the empty vehicles, which were in many cases the only homes the travellers had “were then systematically smashed to pieces and several were set on fire. Seven healthy dogs belonging to the Travellers were put down by officers from the RSPCA.” (source same as above)

Most of the charges were dismissed in court after Lord Cardigan, who had tagged along with them to see what would happen, testified on behalf of the travellers against the police. 

• Her removal of Irish dissidents right to be placed in a category that essentially made them political prisoners instead of merely criminals led to a hunger strike that ended in 10 deaths, including that of Bobby Sands, who was elected from his prison cell, reflecting the immense national, and international support for Irish nationalists. Thatchers lack of sympathy, or even empathy led to her becoming even more of a hate figure.

• She presided over a rapid deregulation of the banks, which ultimately led to much of the problems during britains 2007-2012 financial crash many years later.

• She took free milk from school children, which, though not as serious as anything else listed here, directly affected every child in the UK and was very unpopular, leading her to get the nickname “Maggie Thatcher, Milk Snatcher”, which is still used today.

• Oh… and she supported Apartheid and called Mandela a terrorist.

This is nowhere near everything she’s done that pisses people off, but I hope it goes some way to explaining why when she died “ding dong the witch is dead” became number one in the UK charts, people partied in the streets, and people protested her (State funded) funeral. She is a decisive figure, some people in the UK do actually love her. I do not. She decimated the UK’s industrial heartland, she caused mass unemployment and the destruction of much of working class culture, she was cavalier in her financial policies and increased inequality by staggering levels, she approved serious police brutality and attempted to destroy the culture of unions in this country.  I fundamentally disagree with all she stood for and it angers me that her mistakes are still affecting this country and the people who live in it. And I am VERY angry that the current government are spending £50 million on a museum about her.

Show > Books

book clary: whiny, problematic, cliche “underdog becomes the hero”
show clary: badass, soft, *cough* not trying to get with the guy she believes is her brother *cough*

book jace: an asshole but “it’s okay because he’s just witty and the cool-guy”
show jace: supportive, strong, a good person to have as a friend/ally

book simon: literally did nothing except pine over clary for like three books, but he’s the cliche cute-nerd friend that EVERY main character has to have
show simon: badass, can make his own decisions, nerd-hot

book isabelle: wasn’t even there most of the time, slut shamed when she was there, but she was a good sister
show isabelle: a fcking goddess™, the best forensic pathologist in the state of NY, just trying to be accepted by her mom, a fcking amazing little sister

book alec: problematic, whiny, good with a bow, knew he was “in love” with his parabatai but still dated magnus (completely disregarding magnus’s feelings)
show alec: amazing fighter, amazing brother,amazing son, amazing boyfriend, amazing amaZING AMAZING !!!

book magnus: literally wore fuckinf ridiculous clothes, but overall he was pretty great
show magnus: the most badass, fashionable, wise person on the world, an excellent boyfriend, takes absolutely NO bullshit, is there to help people when they need it

book luke: wasn’t even there most of the time ???
show luke: the BEST detective in New York, amazing step-dad, badass leader, saved the day so many times i’ve lost count, just overall the best

Beggin' For Thread (Bucky Barnes x Reader) Request! ❤

A/N: To the lovely anon that requested this brilliant idea!! I loved writing this because boxers in general are super comfy and look hell sexy, too. Especially on Bucky Barnes! :D Hope you guys like it!! ENJOY! - Delilah ❤

Beggin’ For Thread: Reader steals some of Bucky’s boxers during laundry day. But when he goes to her for comfort from a thunderstorm he gets a surprise.

 Warnings: Sex (M/F). Hurt/Comfort. Angst. 

Keep reading

Adored by Him

A/N: So this fic is inspired by the song “Adored by Him” by Dodie Clark. Yeah that’s really it… 

Warnings: Swearing but that’s normal.

Word Count: 2, 428

Your POV 

I honestly never expected any of this to happen. When I became friends with Dan, I did think he was handsome and funny. But I didn’t think I would fall for him as fast as I did. I always pushed away the feelings until they asked if I wanted to move in with them. Being around him 24/7 made it harder to conceal it so I just let it happen. No one knew about my feelings, except Phil, who figured out a year ago. I always expected the feelings to just go away but they didn’t.

But then she happened. Allison was Dan’s most recent girlfriend. They’ve been dating for many months now, and he was absolutely smitten (cheeky Dodie reference again) with her. He never spoke about how he felt about her, but I was able to tell. The way he looked at her with adoring eyes, and smile at the mere mention of her name. I don’t blame him though. She was beautiful, with her butterscotch hair and her smile that could shine brighter than the sun, I bet anybody would fall her easily. She was literally perfect, and I was just…well me. It was easy to figure out how she made Dan’s soul practically glow, and it hurt. A lot.  

I won’t hate you but oh it stings,

How does it feel to be adored by him? 

It was hard to hate Allison. She was super nice, and had the same sense of humor as Dan. Plus, she makes him happy. That’s what matters, right?


I was sitting on the couch, watching my favorite movie with Phil. It was raining outside so we decided to dedicate the day to watching a bunch of movies. Phil and I were cuddled up under a blanket, eating popcorn. It was relaxing to say the least. Dan was out at Allison’s house so, of course, Phil questioned me about my feelings.

“Are you ever going to tell him, Y/N?” Phil asked, nudging my arm with his elbow.

I pulled up the blanket to my chest, and sighed heavily. “Philly we’ve talked about this before. I’ll only ruin things so-" 

"You should tell him. It’s best to get it out there.” Phil gave me a sympathetic look. It’s like he knew Dan wouldn’t return the feelings but he didn’t want to keep any secrets. To be honest I’m surprised he didn’t tell Dan by now. 

“Phil, look-”

Phil and I jumped off the couch when we heard a loud bang, and stumbling coming from downstairs. We exchanged confused glances, and hurried to the front door to see Dan, stumbling around the entrance of our flat.

“Hi guys!” Dan said, his speech slurred.

“Dan what the hell happened!?” Phil questioned, running up to his best friend’s side and helping him take his shoes off. 

“Heh, Allison and I got in a fight. Stupid really-” He tripped over his shoes that he just took off and laughed. He looked up into my eyes and smiled. “Don’t worry I’m fine.” Dan pushed Phil’s hand off his shoulder, and walked up the stairs by himself.

“Y/N, do you want to make sure he’s okay?” Phil asked, walking up to my side as we slowly followed Dan up the stairs.

“Why?”

“Just talk to him." 

I let out another sigh, and took another glance at Dan, who stumbled into his bedroom. "Okay. I’m not telling drunk Dan anything though.” I pointed my finger at Phil, and let out a small laugh to lighten the mood. Phil shook his head, smacking my hand away and smiling.

“Just go.” He laughed. 

I walked to the kitchen, and poured a small glass of water for Dan. I ignored the aching pain in my chest, and the tears swelling up in my eyes. I put down the glass for a moment to take a deep breath, and recollect myself. After a few minutes, I made my way towards Dan’s room where I saw him softly crying. My heart broke at the sight. It pained me so much to see another girl make Dan hurt. I hated it. I walked towards Dan’s bed and gave him the glass of water. 

“Here you go, sweetie.” I sat at the end of his bed, waiting for his response. 

“Thank you.” Dan sniffed, taking a sip of the water. 

“You want to talk about what happened?” I moved closer to him. His legs were hanging over the edge of his bed and he was staring at the cup of water in his lap.

“She doesn’t trust me.”  

“What do you mean?” I was right by his side after I finished the question. I tried to make eye contact with him but he was so closed off, I decided to keep a little distance.

“She thinks that I’m cheating on her with you.” He lifted his head slowly and stared into my eyes. My face turned red and I stared at the ground. I felt the butterflies in my stomach go crazy, and I had to take a deep breath again to calm myself down. I looked back into his beautiful, chocolate eyes and stared in silence for a while.  

Pretty girl there’s no need to fret

Because it’s midnight, he’s drunk, and you’re the one in his head.

You don’t even have to try at all. 

“I can’t say I’m in love with her but I feel something…strong towards her you know? I’m not even sure if she feels the same. It’s just- It hurts a lot that she doesn’t even trust me. ” Dan’s eyes got glossy, and he stared down at his cup again. All I did was nod my head. I understood where he was coming from. Someone you may be in love with and they might not even return the feeling. How ironic. 

“I understand, Dan. But you should get some rest, then talk to her in the morning.” I flashed a fake smile at Dan and stood up from his bed. I stood in front of him, and he stared into my eyes like he was searching for something.

“Thank you, Y/N. You’re honestly the best.” Dan put his glass down on his bedside table and got up to give me hug. I accepted it, taking in his warmth for that short moment I had. I sighed when he pulled away and sat in his bed. “You want to…stay with me for a bit?” He asked, not making eye contact. I gave him a weak smile, and nodded, sitting next to him as he got comfortable underneath the blanket.

I lost track of time, waiting for Dan to fall asleep. I stared at his sleeping figure for god knows how long, I felt like a complete creep. He looked so peaceful with his head resting in my lap it was hard not to. I gently stroked his hair as he slowly fell asleep, his arms wrapped around my body as his head rested on my leg. I checked the time on his phone, 1:00 am. I noticed his lock screen, expecting it to be a picture of him and Allison. But instead it was a picture of him, me, and Phil at VidCon on our day off. I smiled at it, but quickly my smile faded when a text from Allison popped up. I decided to ignore it, and finally leave Dan’s side. 

I crept towards the kitchen, hoping not to wake Dan or Phil up. However, to my surprise Phil was standing in the kitchen, drinking some tea while leaning against the counter. 

“So, how did it go?” He asked, staring at me. 

“She doesn’t trust him apparently. Allison thinks he’s cheating on her with…me.” I sighed. All my emotions that I’ve been holding in all night were surfacing, and I wasn’t going to let it happen. “Um, he’s asleep now. He asked me to stay with him for a little while and I lost track of time because he was…uh-" 

"Cuddling with you?” Phil flashed me a smile, but it faded when he looked into my eyes and noticed the tears coming up. He gave me a sympathetic look and walked closer to me. “You should just tell him so he knows. So you don’t have to keep hurting. He will understand, Y/N." 

"I know Phil. It’s just- it hurts seeing them together so much. And of course I want him to be happy! But that selfish part of me wants him to be happy with me. God, it fucking hurts.” I felt a warm streak roll down my cheek, and I quickly wiped it away, looking away from Phil. 

“Y/N.” I knew he was trying to make me look at him, but I hated being this vulnerable. “Y/N.” I gave in and stared into Phil’s icy blue eyes. It was full of sympathy, and I couldn’t take it anymore. 

“Phil, don’t look at me like that please. It’s only making me feel worse.” I felt more tears surfacing and let out a heavy sigh. I heard Phil mumble a small apology and he embraced me in a warm, loving hug. At that point I finally broke. I started sobbing into his shirt, with every sob he would hold me tighter, and tell me everything was going to be okay. He gently ran his hands through my hair. I pulled away from Phil, and sniffed, gently rubbing my nose. 

“Y/N, I know it hurts but-” Phil paused in the middle of his sentence and stared behind me. I looked up to Phil, then turned around to see what he was looking at. There was Dan, his hair curly and disheveled, and his empty glass in his hands.

“What’s wrong?” Dan asked, noticing my red, puffy eyes and the tear stains on Phil’s shirt. He looked into my eyes and I could tell he was concerned.

“N-Nothing.” I lied.

“Obviously there’s something wrong, Y/N, tell me.” Dan walked over to the counter and placed his cup on the surface. I looked up to Phil, and nodded, signaling for him to give us some alone time. When Phil left the room, Dan pulled me into a tight hug, and for the second time that night I broke down. “Want to talk to me about what happened?”

I pulled away from Dan and stared at the floor. “It’s not really about w-what happened. It’s more…what’s happening.” I let out a fake chuckle. Dan shot me a confused look, and backed up to lean against the counter.

“Tell me what’s going on or so help me god Y/N I will-”

“Okay. Um. I guess.”

“Spit it out, please.” Dan tilted his head, giving me a worried look. God I can’t handle this anymore.

“Okay, you don’t even have to respond to this…but I really need it out in the open.” I could feel my heart beating out of my chest, and I took deep unsteady breath. “I just need you to know that…that” I stared into Dan’s eyes and I could feel my heart aching all over again. I felt tears pouring out of my eyes and saw Dan’s tall figure making his way over to comfort me again but I pulled away.

“Please don’t. You’re just going to make this harder.”
“Y/N tell me. Please, you’re making me worried.” I realized that Dan and I were standing really close, closer than we usually are. I looked into his beautiful eyes like it was the last time then stared at the floor.

“I think I’m in love with you.” I mumbled. 

“What? Speak up, love.” Dan said softly. 

“Fuck.” I ran my fingers through my hair and avoided eye contact at all costs. “I think I’m in love with you and it fucking stings so much to see you and Allison together. I mean I don’t blame you, or her. Allison is like the definition of perfect. I mean she makes me look blind with how adventurous she is and you look at her like the world is fucking perfect. It’s so stupid to think that I could compare to her. But god, do I wish it was me in your arms instead of her. Don’t even get me started about how I feel about you because there is too much history to even go over.” I shook my head, staring at the ground, watching my tears hit the white kitchen tiles.

“Y/N, can you look at me please?” Dan was still speaking softly. 

“Dan I told you, you don’t have to even say anything. You could just simply ignore it and leave, I’ll get the point." 

"Look at me, Y/N.” Dan said, more stern but still full of care. I rolled my eyes and stared into his eyes. Even though my vision was blurred I could still see the small glimmer in his eyes. “I’m sorry for-”

“Dan I told you, you don’t have to do this." 

"Y/N, we need to talk about this. We can’t just ignore it.”

“Well I’ve been ignoring it for 3 years now, so I think I’m good. I know the speech you’re about to give me and I just…” I let out a muffled sob into my hand, and looked back up to him. “Please I can’t take this right now." 

"Please let me just-" 

"Dan, I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have said anything. I really need fresh air…I’ll be back in a bit." 

Dan looked over to the clock on the oven, and slowly moved towards the door. "It’s 1:20, Y/N you can’t go outside alone." 

"Well I am, so please move.” Dan was blocking the doorway. I made eye contact with him and got lost in his eyes again. I felt like time slowed down when we stared into each other’s eyes, but I broke the contact because I felt more tears coming. Dan reluctantly walked up to me, opening his arms to give me a hug. But instead, I pulled away from him. 

“I’m so sorry.” I mumbled, and ran down the stairs to the front door, putting on my shoes and coat. 

“Y/N wait-”

I left before I could hear anymore. I let the cold London air enter my lungs, as I tried to relax from what happened, and trying to decide if I should go back and face Dan, or go to a friend’s house. I ultimately decided on staying outside for a while. Sitting on a park bench staring at the trees in the park as I replayed what happened through my head. 

What am I going to do?

A/N: Second part? Or leave it there? YOU DECIDE

Like there’s not a single black coded character treated well.

The Ruby Squad - literally portrayed as stupid, inept and are constantly subjected to really nasty narrative choices and slapstick

CG Ruby - “angry black woman”, portrayed as in the wrong for rightfully being upset that she was violated

Bismuth - violent, an extremist, shouts a lot, massive, bubbled over a misunderstanding and left to rot

Sugilite - even more violent, she did the horrible crime of doing her fucking job, also disappears over a misunderstanding

Garnet - there’s literally nothing to her except that she’s a magical negro

Sapphire is probably the most inoffensive and I can’t think of any issues with her, but again, she’s off to the sidelines + her coding isn’t as blatant as Ruby’s, Bismuth’s or Garnet’s

2

It’s been years. Long, full years that have passed since the Winchesters took their last breaths. It was a frosty night, filled with blood, sweat and tears as Sam held his bigger brother’s hand just before his own world went black.

All he hoped for as his last wish was that wherever he was went, Dean would be waiting for him. It didn’t matter if it were heaven or hell, it just mattered to him if they were together because even in death he just couldn’t imagine being without Dean.

At this point in time, the Impala still stood where Dean had driven it last. It was untouched. Except for the bubbles of rust on her once pristine, shiny, black body and the long grass weaving its way inside the place that once used to be home.

It was still home.

Their souls tied to the car, like she was stitched into their very being. The only other constant in their lives except for each other. Things are simpler now, both of them existing between worlds. Made of smoke and stories. Most nights they just sit on the hood of the car, watching the stars in complete silence just like they did in life. It was weird the way they just needed each other to be okay.

Then one day, Sam watched a boy walk up to the car, his fingertips trailing over the roof. The same admiration and glee he often noticed in Dean’s eyes when he saw cars, sparkling in the eyes of someone that reminded Sam of who he used to be.

Before he knew it, Baby was hurtling down highways again, carrying two men that reminded Sam of his own life. Saving people, hunting things, the family business. Dean would often mess with the stereo, the soundtracks to their lives blaring through the speakers as the legos rattled. It reminded the new hunters of the history they were apart of and the history they were going to make.

Sprawled out in the backseat, Sam’s head on Dean’s lap as they listened to the young hunters in the front, who were completely oblivious to their presence.

“You know who’s car this was? It belong to Sam and Dean. The Winchesters. The goddamn Winchesters.”

“No way. No frikkin’ way. There’s no way they would have left this beauty.”

“I heard they died.”

Sam tilted his head upwards to look at Dean. There’s a smile on Dean’s face that made his heart warm.

They never die. Not really. At least not forever.

I just want to sleep

This is just me basically taking out my frustrations on not being able to sleep lately. It’s short and choppy and honestly I feel exactly what the title says. I’m sorry, Lance!

Summary: Basically this is just Lance breaking down in front of Allura after being able to sleep well and everyone except for Keith pushing their chores onto him.

He didn’t really think of it when he had agreed to take on both his and Shiro’s chores for that day.

“I really appreciate it, Lance. I don’t know what’s going on with my arm.” Shiro had glanced at his arm, which had been hanging limply by his side.

“It’s no problem!” Lance had said, except it was a problem. He hadn’t able to get a good night’s rest in over a month; nightmares of Earth and his family plagued him constantly. He had taken to walking around the ship, having memorized Shizo’s patrol schedule fairly quickly to avoid him, Lance’s nightmares shouldn’t on his shoulders too.

Lance had started on Shiro’s chores first, partially through when Pidge had come in, asking Lance to finishes hers so she could look at Shiro’s arm. What right did he have to refuse her request? She had been half way done anyway. He would try to nap once he was done. Except Hunk had asked him to help with his chore due to a culinary idea that had suddenly popped up. The excitement on his best friend’s face was enough to make him agree. He would be done soon, he could take his nap soon. It hadn’t worked out like that.

All he did was take a short rest before going to finish his own chore but Allura had found him sitting against the wall, everyone’s chores but his done. When she had started in on him as he stood up, he felt his eyes burn. It hadn’t been fair. He was doing most of the work, know Keith had already finished his and was in the training room. He just wanted sleep. Why couldn’t he sleep?

“Lance! Are you listening to me?!”

He looked up at her, fists clenched, and lips trembling. “I-I’m sorry.” His voice had cracked so harshly even the princess faltered. “I tried.” He let a sob. “I tried to finish all the chores, but everyone kept asking me to do theirs.” Tears flowed fast, everything catching up. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry!” Lance slid to his knees, hands rubbing his face, messily. “I’m so tired though….”

“Lance?” Allura’s voice hesitant as she stepped forward. “Why are you tired?”

He sniffed and looked up at her weakly, the exhaustion showing through. “I can’t sleep… I tried… but I can’t.. I can’t sleep! I just want to sleep! I want the nightmares to stop!” He was fully sobbing now, his entire body shaking from the force. “I just want to sleep again..”

Allura knelt down in front of him, gently taking his hands into hers. “Lance… Lance, look at me. There, that’s it. It’s okay. It’ll be okay. I’ll help you.” She pulled the Blue Paladin into her arms, Lance clinging to her tightly as he cried. She ran her finger through his hair with quiet reassurances that everything was going to be okay. Moving them, Allura was now sitting against the same wall she had found Lance against. He was laying on his stomach, arms wrapped around her waist, head on her lap.

“You remind me of my sister…..” Lance muttered into her thigh. “She’s so amazing… really strong, too. She’d hold me all the times I had nightmares….”

Allura hummed softly, “Did you flirt with your sister too?”

“Of course! I flirted with all my brothers and sisters…. It was a family thing..”

Her hand stopped for a moment before continuing to pet him. Her own eyes wet with unshed tears. “I’m honored you think of me as family…. Lance?”

Lance breathed softly against her lap, eyes closed, grip slacking just a bit. Allura gave a small smile before shifting and picking Lance up carefully. Instead of going to his room, she headed to her room, determined that nothing would wake him now. She knew she was hard on them but none of them deserved this. Though, she will be upping the training levels tomorrow for them as she makes Lance rest for the day.

‘Parks and Recreation’: Leslie Knope Writes Letter to America Following Donald Trump’s Victory

Dear America,

Amidst the confusion, and despair, and disbelief, it was suggested to me by a very close friend of mine (I won’t say her name, to protect her identity) (Ann. It was Ann) that perhaps a few people would enjoy hearing my thoughts on this election. So I sat down at my computer, cleared my head, and opened a document. Then I started crying. So I had some hot chocolate, and my close friend (Ann) rubbed my back for a while, and I got myself together, and sat down. And started crying. Then more Ann comforting me, and more hot chocolate, and back and forth like that for about six hours or so, the chain of hot-chocolate-and-back-rubs only interrupted briefly when I had to run to the store for more hot chocolate packets (“Just give me all of them, all the boxes,” I remember saying, through tears, to a very scared stockroom boy) and now I am ready to go.

When I was in fourth grade, my teacher Mrs. Kolphner taught us a social studies lesson. The seventeen students in our class were introduced to two fictional candidates: a smart if slightly bookish-looking cartoon tortoise named Greenie, and a cool-looking jaguar named Speedy. Rick Dissellio read a speech from Speedy, in which he promised that if elected he would end school early, have extra recess, and provide endless lunches of chocolate pizzandy. (A local Pawnee delicacy at the time — deep fried pizza where the crust was candy bars.) Then I read a speech from Greenie, who promised to go slow and steady, think about the problems of our school, and try her best to solve them in a way that would benefit the most people. Then Mrs. Kolphner had us vote on who should be Class President.

I think you know where this is going.

Except you don’t, because before we voted, Greg Laresque asked if he could nominate a third candidate, and Mrs. Kolphner said “Sure! The essence of democracy is that everyone—” and Greg cut her off and said “I nominate a T. rex named Dr. Farts who wears sunglasses and plays the saxophone, and his plan is to fart as much as possible and eat all the teachers,” and everyone laughed, and before Mrs. Kolphner could blink, Dr. Farts the T. rex had been elected President of Pawnee Elementary School in a 1984 Reagan-esque landslide, with my one vote for Greenie the Tortoise playing the role of “Minnesota.”

After class I was inconsolable. Once all the other kids left, Mrs. Kolphner came over and put her arm around me. She told me I had done a great job advocating for Greenie the Tortoise. Through tears I remember saying, “How good, exactly?” and she said “Very very good,” and I said, “Good enough to—?” and she sighed and went to her desk to get one of the silver stars she gave out to kids who did a good job on something, and as I tearfully added it to my Silver Star Diary she asked me what upset me the most.

“Greenie was the better candidate,” I said. “Greenie should have won.”

She nodded.

“I suppose that was the point of the lesson,” I said.

“Oh no,” she said. “The point of the lesson is: people are unpredictable, and democracy is insane.”

Winston Churchill once said, “Democracy is the worst form of government, except all those other forms that have been tried.” That is perhaps a pithier and better way to get my point across, than that long anecdote about Mrs. Kolphner. Should I just erase all of that and start with this? Whatever. I’m pot-committed now, and is there extra caffeine in that hot chocolate? Because my head feels like a spaceship. The point is: people making their own decisions is, on balance, better than an autocrat making decisions for them. It’s just that sometimes those decisions are bad, or self-defeating, or maddening, and a day where you get dressed up in your best victory pantsuit and spend an ungodly amount of money decorating your house with American flags and custom-made cardboard-cutouts of suffragettes in anticipation of a glass-ceiling-shattering historical milestone ends with you getting (metaphorically) eaten by a giant farting T. rex.

Like most people, I deal with tragedy by processing the five stages of grief: Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, and Acceptance. My denial over the election results was intense. My anger was (in Ron’s words) “significant.” My bargaining was short, but creative — I offered my soul and the souls of all of my friends in exchange for 60,000 more votes in Milwaukee, to any demon who cared to accept. (Tom told me it was a terrible deal, but I didn’t care, in that moment.) My depression I have already mentioned. Which brings us to Acceptance.  And here’s what I stand on that:

No. I do not accept it.

I acknowledge that Donald Trump is the President. I understand, intellectually, that he won the election. But I do not accept that our country has descended into the hatred-swirled slop pile that he lives in. I reject out of hand the notion that we have thrown up our hands and succumbed to racism, xenophobia, misogyny, and crypto-fascism. I do not accept that. I reject that. I fight that. Today, and tomorrow, and every day until the next election, I reject and fight that story. I work hard and I form ideas and I meet and talk to other people who feel like me, and we sit down and drink hot chocolate (I have plenty) and we plan. We plan like mofos. We figure out how to fight back, and do good in this infuriating world that constantly wants to bend toward the bad. And we will be kind to each other, and supportive of each other’s ideas, and we will do literally anything but accept this as our fate.

And let me say something to the young girls who are reading this. Hi, girls. On behalf of the grown-ups of America who care about you and your futures, I am awfully sorry about how miserably we screwed this up. We elected a giant farting T. rex who does not like you, or care about you, or think about you, unless he is scanning your bodies with his creepy T. rex eyes, or trying to physically grab you like a toy his daddy got him (or would have, if his daddy had loved him). (Sorry, that was a low blow.) (Actually, not sorry, I’m pissed, and I’m on a roll, so zip it, super-ego!) Our President-Elect is everything you should abhor, and fear, in a male role model. He has spent his life telling you, and girls and women like you, that your lives are valueless except as sexual objects. He has demeaned you, and belittled you, and put you in a little box to be looked at and not heard. It is your job, and the job of girls and women like you, to bust out.

You are going to run this country, and this world, very soon. So you will not listen to this man, or the 75-year-old, doughy-faced, gray-haired nightmare men like him, when they try to tell you where to stand or how to behave or what you can and cannot do with your own bodies, or what you should or should not think with your own minds. You will not be cowed or discouraged by his stream of retrogressive babble. You won’t have time to be cowed, because you will be too busy working and learning and communing with other girls and women like you, and when the time comes you will effortlessly flick away his miserable, petty misogynistic worldview like a fly on your picnic potato salad.

He is the present, sadly, but he is not the future. You are the future. Your strength is a million times his. Your power is a billion times his. We will acknowledge this result, but we will not accept it. We will overcome it, and we will defeat it.

Now find your team, and get to work.

Love,

Leslie

je-ne-suis-pas-mignon  asked:

With Lance comforting Keith in the trailer and the writers confirming that he takes care of his nephews and neices I hope that the fandom stops calling Lance a jackass, obnoxious, fuckboy or an asshole in their fics. He might be loud and flirtatious, bordering on annoying occasionally, but I never saw him as any of the above. I see those exact words used for lance time and time again in parts of the fandom, tho. I hope season 3 changes that. Lance seems to be the most polarizing of the cast.

I mean, in general, I’ve always found it very peculiar that people accuse Lance specifically of not respecting women.

What Lance does, is flirt with people. His chosen method of flirting with the exception of one lewd-sounding joke Shiro immediately called him on (which he never did again) is pretty much “hey. you’re pretty. do you know I’m also pretty. I think this is very interesting.”

And Allura rolls her eyes. It’s up to you if you think she’s genuinely uncomfortable, but, considering Allura made it very clear in her first canon appearance, and has made good on ever since that she is pretty dang clear about what she decides isn’t okay- I feel like a really uncomfortable Allura would do a lot more than roll her eyes. It feels like a kind of lighthearted interpersonal teasing at this point- Lance jokingly asks Allura for a kiss for luck, Coran makes Lance kiss Platt, our next shot of Lance is him, disappointed but already having withdrawn without obvious compliant and gone back to his Lion.

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If Regis and Ravus Were Party Members... (Banter)

Because @ghostocelot (why you no tag??) suggested that the dad get the chance to make an appearance. :D

Ignis: “As someone who is trusted with the protection of the royal family, I can’t help but find this situation to be…”
Gladiolus: “Troublesome?”
Prompto: “Sketchy?”
Noctis: “A nightmare?”
Regis: “I don’t know about the lot of you, but I find this adventure of yours to be quite entertaining. It reminds me of the days when I was young and reckless.”
Ravus: “Now you are simply old and reckless…”

Regis: “Noctis, remember what I had told you before you departed on your journey?”
Noctis: “Yeah. You said ‘Walk tall, my son.’”
Regis: “And why haven’t you taken my words to heart? Stand up straight, otherwise you’ll end up curling in on yourself and implode.”
Noctis: *sighs* “Yes, father…”


Regis: “So all of you are well acquainted with one another to give each other nicknames?”
Prompto: “Y-Yeah! The Prince is Noct, I’m Prom, Iggy is Iggy, Gladio’s the big guy, and Ravus is-“
Ravus: “Dare refer to me as such a name in front of the king, and I shall unleash a hell far worse than what the Astrals can do, Argentum.”
Regis: *chuckles* “Ravus certainly has quite a bark to him. Just like Sylva.”

Ravus: “Your Majesty, how well-acquainted were you with my mother?”
Regis: “She was a dear friend of the royal family. A beautiful and brave woman who aided us in times of tragedy. If only I were there to aid her when tragedy struck in Tenebrae.”
Ravus: “Yes. If only you were.”

Ravus: “Why did you do it? Twelve years ago, why did you abandon the people of Tenebrae? Why did you abandon my mother and leave her to such a horrendous fate?!”
Regis: “Because fear is an emotion that can leave the clearest mindsets clouded and unable to think about anything else except for the things they care about most. So in that time, the only thing I could think about is making sure that Noctis was safe and out of harm’s way. Just as your mother could only think about protecting you.”
Ravus: “It was foolish of her to do such…”
Regis: “Perhaps. But nevertheless, she would repeat the same action over again to protect you and Lunafreya.”
Ravus: “Yes… I know she would have.”

Regis: “Ignis, why are you driving so slow? Ducks could walk faster than us.”
Ignis: “I am merely remaining cautious of road hazards, your majesty.”
Regis: “Meaning you’re driving slow because I am in the car?”
Ignis: “That’s not-“
Regis: “I am a king, not a ‘fun-sucker,’ as they say. By all means, you’re allowed to drive faster.”
Prompto: “Whoo! Yeah, Ignis! Gun it!”
Ravus: “I suppose this is how we all perish in the end. A pity…”

Regis: “So what is this mobile device game that you all seem so keen on at the campsite?”
Ravus: “From what I process from it, it is called Kings Knight. It appears to be some sort of cooperative game that they play with one another.”
Regis: “Why would they wish for a Kings Knight, when they are soon to become kings and knights as it is?”
Ravus: Finally. Some sensibility and logic to this situation.”

Noctis: “Prompto, did you teach my dad how to take selfies?”
Prompto: “Well, yeah. He asked me about them, so I told him.”
Noctis: “Great… That explains why he stole my phone, and took two dozen blurred selfies of himself. Thanks a lot…”
Regis: “You’re quite welcome, my son.”

Regis: “My son.”
Everyone: “Yeah?”
*they stare at each other*
Noctis: “Why are you guys answering to that? He’s my dad.”
Gladiolus: “Pretty sure he calls all of us that.”
Ravus: “As if I share enough with you all as it is…”

Noctis: “Gross… They put everything in my burger when I told them no vegetables.”
Regis: “Is seems that you’re in quite the pickle, my son.”
*they all stare at Regis as he eats*
Ravus: “…Now I remember why I decided I was better off without a father in my life.”

When Chasing Love (NSFW 18+)

A/N: Hiii, this is like my first ever Stuart fic. I’ve technically done one with the Hoes a while back but this is my first individual one. The title of this was based off a poem by Michael Faudet that is the bases for this fic. I want to thank @writing-obrien as usual for being my biggest motivator and helper, but I’m also going to thank her for any future help she will undoubtly lend me. This is really different than I’ve written before, but it was the best way I could think to give a good perspective from all sides instead of one. I also wanted to try this style of writing out, because I do plan on writing a Styida fic at some point. I hope you guys like this and thank you all for being wonderfully beautiful people.

Warning: Public Fingering and Alcohol Abuse (Because again, they’re drunk.)

Word Count: 3847

Originally posted by prettiestcaptain

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purse dating | h.s. imagine

♢ requested by the lovely @shaniaalexisss . sorry it took so long to get it up, and there will definitely be a part two!! 

masterlist 

// harry finds a purse at the club he works at and realizes he has a lot in common with the girl

Originally posted by tmlnsn

-

“You should just look inside,” some worker named Cody says to Harry. He and a few of his co-workers sit at the bar contemplating what to do with the bag Harry has found in the club. It wasn’t at all small, so Harry wasn’t sure how someone could forget something so important. Harry felt uncomfortable opening the bag because that’s invasion of privacy, right? But also, if he looked inside, he’d probably be able to find out who it belongs to. A lot of girls that go to the club Harry works at are regulars. They mostly just go to flirt or look at Harry, but he’s too oblivious to even notice. “It’s not a big deal if you open the bag, Harry.” Jordan, the older (and by older Harry means, like 35) bartender says, throwing a towel over his shoulder. “We open girls bags all the time. Mostly just lipstick and tampons in them, though. Nothing too interesting,” he continues.

Harry shrugs and unzips the black purse. The first thing Harry finds is a phone, of course. Curious, he presses the home button and sees many notifications. A few Snapchats, a couple texts, and many Instagram notifications. Harry clears the notifications because he wants to see the lock screen. He read somewhere that you can tell a lot about a person from their lock screen. It’s a young girl in the ocean. Her legs are on either side of a surfboard and her hair partially covers her smile. The color of the water is a light blue and it reminds Harry of Jamaica. He and his family recently went on vacation there and everyday he wishes he could go back. Everything was so zen there- unlike his job. “Harry do this,” and “Harry do that,” the poor guy never gets a break.

Anyways, the next thing Harry finds is a tampon, just like Jordan had said. Harry places it back in the bag. Okay, let’s see what else there is- a coupon for the Mexican restaurant down the street (Harry thinks they have great tacos), a pack of fruit snacks, gum, Band-Aids, a Tide To-Go stick, a wallet and a little notebook. She must be pretty clumsy and messy, Harry decides. He also concludes that this girl comes prepared, even for the club. He places everything back in the purse except for the notebook, wallet and the phone. It continues to light up, mostly with Instagram notifications. She also receives many text messages, all along the lines of how much they love her tattoo. One in particular stands out to Harry.

imessage from Isla

Omg!! Y/n I love the anchor tattoo!! It’s sooooo you. Did you get it in Jamaica???

Okay so, not only was that picture of this y/n girl most likely in Jamaica, but now Harry knows her name and that she has an anchor tattoo. Harry has an anchor tattoo. Harry has been to Jamaica. Harry likes the Mexican restaurant down the street. What else do these two have in common? Being even more curious, he decided to take a peek into her wallet. For starters, Harry thinks she’s the only person who looks good in their drivers license and decides she is the most photogenic person he has ever seen. The card sticking out of the wallet turns out to be a membership card for the same gym Harry goes to and wonders why hasn’t he seen this girl there before. He certainly wouldn’t forget her…

“Styles,” Jordan calls. “We’re locking up, get your ass out of here.” 

Harry nods and grabs y/n’s purse from the counter. Surely, he could take it home since he’ll be the first one to arrive at the club tomorrow. He hopes y/n will get there first thing in the morning when he’s the only one there doing inventory. Once harry gets home, he continues to look through y/n’s things… not in a creepy way though, more like in a ‘I want to get to know this girl better’ kind of way. He didn’t want to try putting in y/n’s password so he leaves her phone on his counter and silences it because this girl gets way too many notifications for his liking. He opens her little yellow moleskine notebook and sees little doodles scattering the pages. Harry likes the cactus she drew in the corner of the page. Alongside it are some lyrics to a song that Harry isn’t sure he’s heard before, at least he thinks they’re lyrics. Whatever it is, it’s written in the most beautiful cursive writing he has ever seen.

‘pacin’ through the, the back of my mind / maybe you’ve been a storm all this time’

Harry wonders if y/n has written this herself or if they’re simply lyrics that she likes. He flips through more of the pages and a lot of them just have her grocery or to-do list. He notices that every grocery list has fruit snacks on it. How weird is it that someone who is old enough to get into a club still eats fruit snacks? Oh, who is Harry kidding? He still loves Haribo gummy bears, so he can’t judge this girl too hard for loving fruit snacks. Harry thinks he’s crazy as he begins to feel like he has a bit of a crush on the owner of this purse. He doesn’t know this girl at all, yet he still feels like he knows everything about her. He thinks they’d be good friends, though. Putting his ridiculous feelings aside, Harry wonders how worried y/n must be if she has realized she doesn’t have any of her belongings. (She hasn’t though, she passed out on her bed the minute she got home). He wishes there was something more he could do, but there really isn’t anything he can do other than bring it to work tomorrow. 


Y/n has indeed not noticed that all of her belongings are not in her possession. It had been a while since y/n had been clubbing because all of her friends decided she was becoming too much of a “mom” friends so they took her out. After a few too many drinks, and a little much bump and grind, y/n lost her bag sometime during the night. She of course, was too wasted to notice. What a joy it will be to deal with her when she wakes up… 

to be continued… 


[authors note • i love this concept so thank you again @shaniaalexisss for requesting it! i 1000% see harry working at a club in all black and girls would just stare at his thighs in those black skinny jeans uggghhhhh. okay anyways part two will hopefully be up this weekend]

hold on to hope, if you got it

Another reunion fic, because of course it is.

Canonverse, 2 months post 4x13, an excuse for me to patch up my heart.

Thanks to @fredweasleying and @mellamymake for being cheerleaders for this fic. <3

3k. [Read on AO3]

Drawing up treaties with the prisoners has been…exhausting. It feels like she’s doing the whole thing over again, except that she’s on the opposite side this time and she manages to get them to talk before exchanging bullets and spears.

So, in retrospect, not as exhausting as the first time around. At most, all she can complain is that it’s a little repetitive.

And she doesn’t have Bellamy by her side, this time. But she tries her best not to think about that.

She still finds time to radio him, most days, an outlet more than anything. Her voice doesn’t break on his name like it did those first few months, and then again at the five year mark.

It’s good for her, she thinks, talking to him. Madi has been a godsend for her sanity—giving her a sense of priority, a schedule, with all her lessons, and most importantly, someone to love—but she is still a kid, and Clarke misses talking to her friends. Misses Bellamy, more than anything. There’s no point denying it.

He was more than a best friend, which sounds overly sentimental to her own ears, but you don’t go through what they did together and not come out of it as each other’s person. So yeah, she misses him like a constant, familiar ache.

Or maybe she misses the person she remembers. Misses what her brain tells her he was. She can hardly trust her memories, now. Can hardly say for sure if he’d looked at her the way she thought he had, six years ago. If he’d really had the persistent aura of warmth that she still imagines.

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His Girl

Summary: Bucky admires the girl of his dreams, aka the Reader, during a party. Her only problem?  The man holding her hand.

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Word Count: 2507

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, oral sex (male receiving), love triangle, someone gets cheated on, a little bit of angst.

A/N: Here it is, my first attempt on posting something of my own. This might be read by no one ever, but still, I’ve had so much fun in the process and probably will do it again… Thank you so much @dretjie12  for being my beta and putting out with me. You have a special place in my heart.

English is not my first language, so you’ll find grammar mistakes and nonsenses. Sorry! Feedback always welcomed!



Bucky enters the party making a beeline for the bar. It was one of Tony’s big shindigs at the Avenger’s Tower. He had lost count of how many he had attended since he joined the team and could barely remember the reason for it, if there ever had been one to start with.

It has been a slow process of readaptation after he came back from Wakanda, where T’chala’s scientists had finally found a treatment for the trigger words and other horrors Hydra had seen fit to grace his mind with. He still struggled with social events, preferring, instead, to hide in a nondescript corner sipping on whatever drink he took fancy to.

Taking a discreet balcony seat,  he waits for the whisky he had ordered from the bartender. He searches the crowd, looking for the face he so longs to see.. Y/n

It had been like this from the moment he laid eyes on her. His gaze always searching, admiring her, his entire being longing for her presence. Bucky couldn’t understand why she had this effect on him, they had barely exchanged more than two words with her, shying away from her whenever she drew near.

But he was infatuated by Y/N, by how she had held his left hand when they were introduced, he was so entranced with her that he had held on longer than what was deemed socially acceptable, and yet she never let go before he did. The way her hair swung from side to side when she walked,  how she was always looking straight into the eyes of whomever she was talking to, the way her nose crinkled when she laughed, Oh her laugh! the most amazing sound Bucky had ever heard. And she was always laughing, with everyone…

Except with him. Why wouldn’t she speak to him?  Fear… That was the only possible explanation in Bucky’s mind. Of course an angelical person like her would be frightened by him…The winter soldier, the Fist of Hydra, the Assassin… 

With the whisky now in his hands, his lips touch the glass when he finally sees her..

OH, Y/n…

There she was, across the room, laughing while Sam talked to her. For a moment Bucky wishes he could be the lucky bastard who was able to make her laugh like that. He takes a minute to admire the woman of his dreams. She had her hair curled falling on her shoulders and was wearing a long strappy  black dress with a side slit that went high enough to make Bucky’s heart speed up. The deep V neckline wasn’t doing any good to his mental state either…

God, she’s perfect – Bucky momentarily worries that he had said that out loud,  But he genuinely can’t find a single flaw in her. Well, maybe the only problem is the man holding her hands. Steve Rogers, Captain America, Bucky’s best and only friend in the world, the man who started a fucking Civil War to defend him.

She was his girl. That’s why, besides the fact that he probably scares the shit out of her, he would never get to touch Y/N, feel her skin on his. Why he avoids any kind of direct contact and is happy to venerate her from a distance. He couldn’t , by any means, give in to his feelings or even approach her.  Wait, could it be the reason why she avoided him as well? No, it’s fear, for sure.

He’s dated girls, trying hard to get her out of his head.  He had slept with women that would probably be taken as more beautiful or sexier than Y/N by any other person. Not for Bucky though… All he accomplished was to compare her with every single woman he’s been with, and wonder how it would feel if she was the one he was holding, kissing, making love to.

“Jesus, you’re so screwed” Drowned in his thoughts Bucky’d missed the readhead approaching, martini in her hand, sitting on a bench next to him with a smirk on her lips.

“What are you talking about, Romanoff?” He tries to play the ignorance card, knowing damn well that it would be pointless. The stunning spy was able to read his mind like no other, Steve included. Maybe it was their shared past, the one they never speak of, but lingers in the air. The ex-assassins simply understood each other.

“Please Barnes, you’re offending me”  Natasha rolls her eyes and takes the drink to her mouth.  

Bucky leans down his head with a humorless laugh  “That obvious, huh?”

“To me, yes”.  She spends a moment observing him, who had got back to watch the woman across the room hand in hand with his best friend. With a sigh, she kindly places her empty hand on the soldier’s shoulder. “Just be careful, Bucky. Neither of you have been discreet lately” Bucky turns his head, looking with eyebrows knitted close together  at Natasha, who was showing a rare sympathetic smile.

“What do you mean? In what way she’s not being discreet?”  

The empathy on Natasha’s face was replaced by a familiar glare, before she  stands up and turns her back leaving Bucky behind, mumbling words that his enhanced hearing caught as “Stupid Super Soldiers.  No Serum in the brains, for sure”.  But that didn’t answer his doubts…

He watches as Natasha joins the rest of the gang who was now sitting by a round table close to the dance floor. As usual, she takes the chair next to Clint Barton. Bucky moves his eyes to Steve, who is sitting across from the Widow, leaning in to say something. She responds by pointing to the Bar where Bucky stood. The Captain turns his head to his best friend, grinning and making a gesture calling him toward the gathered group.

Finding no way to decline the offer, Bucky nods and heads to the table that was also accommodating Sam, Wanda and Maria Hill. Getting close, he notices that the only left seat was the one next to Y/N, who had her back turned to him.

“Hey Buck, Join us, the food is amazing” Steve said with a mouthful pointing to his plate with the fork.

The fact that his fellow Super Soldier was the only one eating - an exorbitant amount of food- made him remember the skinny kid from Brooklyn that could barely finish a whole glass of milk. The memory brought a warm smile to Bucky’s face, which faded as soon as he spotted Y/N glancing nervously at the empty seat, avoiding his gaze.. 

“Uhmm, I don’t know pal, I’m not really that hungry” Bucky replies, attempting to  refrain from the situation..

“Oh come on Buck, grace us with your presence, It’s not like you have somewhere else to go.  Or do you already have a broad waiting?” Sam was now talking, emphasizing the word in an attempt to tease his 100 year old friend.

Missing Y/N taking a long sip from her own whisky, Bucky pretends to be amused by the conversation. He can’t find it in him to prolong the subject, so he pulls out a chair and takes his seat. 

The group of friends goes back to chatting, no one seems to notice Bucky flinching when his right thigh brushes against Y/N’s left one under the table. Goosebumps sprung unbidden across his skin. He was now expecting her to pull away and move the chair, but instead, she was leaning on his touch and the sensation was overwhelming…

All the noise surrounding them fades away, replaced by the sound of his beating heart.

He rests his hand on his leg and by the corner of his eyes he sees Y/N doing the same thing. Feeling a rush of boldness, he moves it closer to hers until their pinkies link between their laps. He feels dizzy when she softly caresses his finger with hers and all of a sudden, like it was the most natural thing to do, they have  all of their fingers tightly interlocked, holding hands, covered by the table cloth.

Bucky’s mind was running in full speed, and was hard to catch his breath, but yet, for that moment, time seemed to have frozen and everything was slow motion. No… It was not fear… She was touching him, he had her soft hand in his calloused one. And it felt so right…

Bucky’s stupor was interrupted by a familiar voice in the far distance.

“Are you ok, Barnes? Your face is white as sheet” It was Natasha, of fucking course.

With the unwanted attention, Y/N quickly removes her hand and backs away her leg, making Bucky feel empty.

“Ahm, Yeah  I..I guess I need another drink, I’ll be right back” Bucky leaves the table choosing to ignore Natasha’s suspicious look. To his relief the rest of their friends were apparently unfazed. 

In need of a place to calm his restless state, he heads to the rooftop. Getting out of the elevator he feels the breeze of the night and, watching the city lights, the puzzled events of the last couple of minutes keep running over in his mind.  She had touched him, he could still feel the burning where their skin met and he knows that she was as much affected by it as him… What the hell was happening?

The quietness provided by the place was interrupted by the elevator ding, his heart jumps when he sees the person coming out of it and, without giving it a second though, he takes two quick steps, closing the distance between Y/N and him, feverously pressing their lips together. She immediately kissed him back, one hand tangling in his chocolate locks, while the other snaked up his muscular chest. 

Without breaking the kiss, Bucky pins her against the nearest wall. He’s so drunk in her taste that he doesn’t want to let her go…Not again. He tastes the whisky she’s been drinking mixed with her chapstick and something sweet, that he knew was her, and only her. 

Both of her arms around his neck now, one hand still grabbing his hair in a grip. She gasps for air and Bucky attacks her collarbone with a trail of hot kisses, reaching the pulse point to lightly bite on it. She lets out a moan and tightens  the hold on his locks.

“I need you… Please” She speaks with a breathless voice, reaching to palm the bulge in his pants. If Bucky had a tiny bit of control until then, it was completely lost now. The avenger captures her mouth once again, travelling his hand up her exposed leg through the dress slit, burying his fingers under her panties to find her already damp, the sensation pulls a loud groan from him.  

He pushes the black lace material down to her knees and she works her legs to let it drop to the floor, stepping out of it. Bucky pulls the opening of Y/N’s long gown up to her waist while she quickly goes for his belt, releasing Bucky’s erection.  Not being able to lose any more time  he guides his pulsing cock to her wet entrance. It feels like a punch to a gut when he finally sheaths his length inside her, the air leaving him in a long, torturous exhale. 

Bucky holds her left leg up, keeping it locked around his waist, and uses his metal hand to support himself on the wall, while she maintains a firm grip on his shoulders.  He goes slow at first, allowing their bodies to get acquainted with each other. For what feels like the first time, they stare into each others eyes, and at the moment, Bucky feels a sense of calm, a sense of peace he had not known for a long time..

He watches her as she closes her eyes and parts her lips slightly, whimpering in pleasure. “Oh Bucky…” hearing his name on her mouth in such a sinful way made his heart melt and his cock twitch inside of her.

His thrusts grow faster and the two of them become a mess of heavy breaths and moans. Bodies glued together. The frenzy only increases when Bucky readjusts her leg on his waist and his flesh fingers meet Y/N’s clit.  He circles the nub of nerves in fast, harsh circles, The slight change in the angle and the extra stimulation make her let out a scream of pure ecstasy, signaling her climax. Bucky feels her clenching around him and he knows he isn’t going to last much longer.

It startles him for a second when she pushes at his chest, forcing him to pull out of her pulsing heat. His mind goes blank when she sinks to her knees and envelops his throbbing cock with her hot mouth. Her soft lips around his cock and a few bobs were too much for him to handle. “I.. I’m … gonna…. ”, Bucky warns, only making Y/N clutch his hips still, not letting him pull away from her. He groans loudly and she takes everything he has to offer, not missing a drop.

Struggling to breath, Bucky helps her get on her feet and keeps her in a tight embrace, forehead leaned against hers, both in a blissful state. When breathing wasn’t so hard anymore, she was the first one to speak.

“I love Steve… I really do” Bucky sighs at the mention of  his friend’s name.

“Yeah, I know, I love that punk too” he responds matter-of-factly in a sad smile.

“I don’t want to hurt him” she continues. “But you…” She  whispers.  “You’ve been on my mind ever since we’ve met, I’ve been going crazy” tears starts to form in her eyes.

Bucky’s ribcage was fighting against the strong beating of his heart. “Yeah, I know the feeling, Doll” he says in a low voice, brushing his thumb on her cheeks.

She tears herself from him and leans down to grab her panties on the floor allowing him to gather himself too. “This can’t … won’t happen again” She manages to make her words convincing, standing up in front of him again, holding the delicate material.

Bucky closes his eyes and nods. He had known this was coming, but it did nothing to ease the pain of hearing those words. Y/N grabs his chin, forcing him to look at her. They stare at each other for a long moment before she locks their lips together in a smooch.  Bucky feels her shoving one hand inside of his pocket before she breaks the kiss to leave.

He keeps looking at the city lights when he hears the elevator going down. He knows that it would all come eventually, the sorrow, the guilt, the heartache. But at that moment, all he could do was feel on cloud nine, turning his lips up in a grin, while his fingers played absent-mindedly with the piece of black lace inside his pocket.

You’re all incredible: @nenyakj   @mar-gega @imhereforbvcky @imgettingmarriedtobuckybarnes @soldatbarnes @agentmarvel13 @4theluvofall @eve1978

Hotter Than The Pizza - Smut

Originally posted by jugheadjones

Author: @writing-obrien and @dumbass-stilinski
Rating: NSFW 18+
Pairing: Dave Hodgman/Reader
Words: 5,504
AN: This fic was going to just be Chloe’s but then I jumped in to help her and it became a collab. You’re welcome. There’s just not enough Hodgman stories in the world.  Contains masturbation (both), Oral (female receiving), ‘Skype Sex’, inspired by Chloe’s truly embarrassing events at a pizza restaurant, except hers didn’t end this well. 




She couldn’t really be counted as the ‘new’ waitress anymore, seeing as she’d worked there for four months now. But in those four months business had spiked. People just adored her service.

Parents admired how well she treated the children.

Kids loved when she brought over crayons and drawings she’d printed herself.

Staff took advantage of the fact that she did many tables at once, leaving them to stand idle and chat while still getting the wages.

Teenage girls relished in the times that she would make chat and give advice on everything from lipstick shades to what has the most or few calories in.

Teenage boys simply came for the skirt that she wore showed just enough to tease without being slutty, her legs on show and her top fitted, pens lined along her top pocket.

Dave, however, had entirely different reasons for being here. He loved how her smile lit up when she was left a good tip on a bill. He loved how her hair fell perfectly around her face when she would let it down after shutting hours, cleaning the tables and singing her heart out to the music blasting. He loved that she worked overtime at the little shop, so that he could casually swing back and say hi.

He loved her.

He also hated that he was so sentimental about it and he couldn’t just think like the rest of the male population thought about her. Which he hated too.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

I just keep thinking about the bay or bae choice but like in the context of the choice the beast gives Wirt at the end of over the garden wall. Like the tornado asking to choose between chloe and Arcadia bay and Max just responding with, "that's dumb" and choosing something else that saves everyone lmao

Haha, I’ve never drawn that comparison but that’s amusing. OTGW is one of my favorite stories in general at this point, though. Thinking on all of this led to an informal essay that helps me ground myself in my own mistakes with other fics I’ve worked on, All Wounds’ planning stages, and how I’m approaching its impending ending.

This one’s a bit of a doozie.

(I will be referencing elements of the endings to Over the Garden Wall, Life is Strange, Steins;Gate, and Oxenfree, in case you’re worried about knowing things you don’t yet want to know)

OTGW and LIS are very different stories dealing with very different themes, and OTGW can get away with a blunt and brusque resolution like that because it’s a dark comedy that’s in many ways subverting or teasing a lot of melodramatic tropes. LIS often introduces tropes and then peels back a layer and asks us to look deeper, which is a whole other sort of deal.

The problem, though, is that its own finale and final climax kind of doesn’t hold up, because it hinges upon a choice that really makes no sense – and a moral-oriented choice, at that, which makes it even harder to swallow.

With Wirt and the Beast, there’s a physical character within the world to confront. To call out. To vanquish or scare off or outsmart. Greg’s disposition can be broken apart and he can be released. The entire story is about mystery and, well

OTGW makes no allusions that its story isn’t supposed to quite make sense, it embraces its mystery, and it subverts things by making ‘reality’ a hidden element until the final act.

The story makes it pretty obvious that this world isn’t supposed to make much sense, too, which leads us to not really question things when it doesn’t.

Wirt is the elder brother, he’s supposed to set an example, he’s supposed to look out for his sibling, and he fails.

And while there’s a lot of darkness to this story, it is, ultimately, a comedy, first and foremost, and most resolutions with the various antagonists are resolved with some kind of clever or amusing tactic. It doesn’t want us to take it too seriously, and it’s often making fun of tropes in dramatic fantasy stories.

What’s happening with Max, Chloe, and the tornado isn’t so physical as being lost, as confronting magical beasts. It’s abstract and unexplained, yet the story wants us to take it seriously and tries (weakly) to ‘explain’ things. This falls short because there aren’t really any concrete, established rules, and yet we’re supposed to buy into everything being Max’s fault when we don’t even know how it’s her fault. This is tricky because within the context of the narrative, it makes the player assume the position and perspective the creators wanted:

Max Caulfield is supposed to choose between the greater good, or what she desires as an individual.

The premise of that choice is great, and it’s what the entire game has been foreshadowing and leading up to. The execution is just very iffy to me because of the dodgy attempt at explanation…without explaining anything. ‘Chaos Theory’ literally does not work the way the game alludes to it. The writers know none of this makes sense, which is why in the finale they unfortunately go as bluntly as to make Chloe say:

Keep reading

They’re kind of assholes - Superboy x Reader (Batsis)

This is kind of a part two of “You’re kind of an asshole”, the aftermath of it all. Like now, Conner and the reader (Batman’s daughter) professed their love for each other, and it’s not to everyone’s taste. Not to name anyone but…Bruce and Clark are not ok with this. Anyway, hope you’ll like it : 

PART 1

My masterlist blog : https://ella-ravenwood-archives.tumblr.com

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Batman was not happy. Not happy at all.

Superman either actually. 

They were both sitting at a table in the Watchtower’s common room, sulking and brooding (when Diana asked what was happening to Clark, as she was used to Broody Bruce, he just groaned in return and she kinda just understood that this was about you and the boy). With a scoff and a sip of his coffee, your father says : 

-This isn’t going to work.

-I know, it’s too weird. 

-I caught him in her room a few nights ago, God only know what would have happened if I didn’t came in when I did. 

-Oh please, no details. We’re talking about your daughter, whom I consider my dear niece, and my…clone. It’s just too weird ! 

-Yeah well you would be even more weirded out if you had caught them making out on her desk ! 

-Bruce, stop. Seriously. This is making me uncomfortable. 

-And you think I’m comfortable with this ? Because if you do you’re wrong. I hate it. It’s my little girl we’re talking about ! 

Diana, who was coming back from the coffee machine with a warm cup, cannot help herself and has to say : 

-You are aware that you’re daughter is an adult right ? And that when Dick started to date Barbara you didn’t say anything, even though she’s older than him. Or when Jason or Tim st…

-I know she’s an adult ! That’s the problem ! She’s growing up too fast ! And it’s not the same than with the boys…

Diana loses her amused grin, and with a very serious expression, stare at the Bat and says :

-Oh ? And how is it different ? Because she’s a girl you have to protect her more ? Or she can’t go out because of her sex ? By Hades Bruce I thought you were more open minded than that ! 

Your father just looks away and grumbles an answer no one understands. 

He knows it’s ridiculous. He knows he shouldn’t be worried, as he knows that Conner is a good man. He knows you’re an adult and are capable of taking your own decisions but…you’re also his little girl. And he doesn’t actually have a good excuse as to why he wants to protect you more dating wise than his sons…Even though Dick is the one that always end up falling in love way too fast and having his heart broke ! 

In front of him, Clark doesn’t hold Diana’s gaze either (neither him or Bruce would dare to, and besides, when she was annoyed like that, it was better to just look away and shut up), but he has the same thoughts than his friend. He wants to protect you, and for some reasons, deep down, he just can’t find the strength to trust Conner, even though the boy proved himself worthy multiple times…

Keep reading

Dear Argyle,

I hope you never need to find this note. I just need to know someone will understand when I’m gone, if I’m gone. It all started freshman year. 

A silver-haired girl was sitting alone in the middle of the quad, absently chewing a blade of grass. She looked high as a kite, and I was concerned. I had not yet learned what curiosity could lead to, so I walked closer, forgetting every whispered warning I had heard. I wasn’t even carrying anything iron.

“Freshie! Get over here!” It was Flower, the TA from my literature class, and she looked absolutely panicked.

“What’s wrong with–”

“Shut up,” she muttered. Her hand moved briefly in front of her face. Within seconds, her mood ring was back on her finger, but whatever she saw had horrified her, and she pulled me back into the building without saying another word. I caught sight of a form approximating a man in my peripheral vision, standing too close to the girl.

“What the hell was that?” I asked Flower as soon as we got inside. 

“Try not to worry about it, Ada,” she said. “I think he saw you taking an interest, but you might still be okay. They leave the scientists alone. You might not have attracted too much attention.”

“What are you talking about? What’s going on? I’ll ask her if you don’t tell me,” I said, like an idiot. I wasn’t nearly as scared as I should have been.

Flower closed her eyes. “I guess it’s better than letting you make it even worse… Bambi and I used to be best friends. A bunch of us, back in the day, used to be happy to be swept up in the revels. We were so naive back then.”

“Wait, so it’s all real?”

“Of course it’s all real,” Flower said, rolling her eyes. “We didn’t believe any of the darker stories at the time, of course. We thought they were just meant to spook us into staying in our dorms and doing our homework.”

“What were the revels even like?”

“Even if I had the words, I don’t quite have the memories, except for faded hints of what we did. We should have realized what a problem that was after the first time, but what we could remember was so intoxicating… We all danced, we all sang, but it was always Bambi they wanted to hear from the most. She had a knack for playing with poetry, turning Renaissance sonnets into mesmerizing songs. It sometimes seemed like the Gentry were only letting her leave so she could come back knowing more poetry, carrying more beauty to share with them. She was never quite careful enough- she loved knowing that her songs had the power to entrance these beings beyond her understanding. After a while, the rest started wondering if we should stop going, if it was really worth it, but Bambi wouldn’t be convinced. She thought we were just jealous, and maybe we were.”

She stopped for a minute. “One night, things got blurrier than usual. Her idiot of a boyfriend was there, I remember that. The kind of hometown moron who wasn’t going to pay attention to the rules. She brought him anyway. Bambi was careful not to say anything about it, but one of the Gentry had been hovering too close to her, and she might have wanted to make some kind of statement by waving a boyfriend in front of him, to say she was unavailable or just to provoke his jealousy or something. I don’t know for sure, but they sure as hell don’t work like humans, I don’t know why she tried it.” Flower sighed. 

“She disappeared that night. Her boyfriend somehow emerged unscathed, and the rest of us wondered if he had traded her name away for his own safety.”

“But she’s here–”

“I’m not finished. People started seeing a doe running around campus. They gave her a wide berth, since she wore an amethyst necklace inscribed with a Latin phrase from one of the poems she adapted. We knew for sure when her boyfriend died in a hunting accident, but no one said anything.”

“It could be a coincidence–” 

“Shut up. It wasn’t. A few months later, Bambi appeared. She wasn’t a changeling, but she was different, emptier. She gets like this sometimes. We all try not to notice when she starts zoning out and eating leaves, or when she disappears. It’s better that way. She’s been doing alright, but we still keep our distance. She has never taken the necklace off, and it says not to touch her. That’s why I had to stop you from getting too close. I don’t know what would have happened if you had.”

I wore an iron ring after that, and made sure to wear gloves when we handled anything containing silver in the lab. I didn’t want to see… 

People kept whispering about Bambi, kept giving her a wide berth. I’m sure you’ve heard about her. She graduated that year, and instantly became a professor of songwriting at EU. Whenever I went home, I would find articles about the mysterious winner of so many music awards, speculating about why she never left town. In the one picture the world has of her, her necklace is turned around to hide the writing on the gems, her eyes are downcast, and her silver hair looks otherworldly. It always stuns me that the general population hasn’t guessed that there is magic surrounding her. 

I’m supposed to be out of here by the end of the month, but I need an art credit to graduate. The only class available was Bambi’s. I should have waited another semester, but I got paranoid that the school was trying to trap me here. I made the wrong move.

I have been writing the most beautiful songs, dreaming dreams that I can’t remember, dreams that leave me feeling wild and exhilarated and fearful when I wake up. Yesterday, in class, Bambi looked at us, her once soft eyes unfeeling and vacant, and announced that attending and singing at an upcoming performance in an undetermined location was the only way to pass the class. Hopefully, it works out fine. After all, Flower and the rest of her friends made it out okay… but I’m not sure. I think I was seen.

If I don’t come back, please just tell my mom I ran away to be a singer. It’s close enough to the truth.

Your friend,

Ada Lovelace


This story was inspired by @charminglyantiquated‘s @elsewhereuniversity! Feel free to share!

- Grace Babcock © 2017