flail out

“Pièce de Résistance”

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (Holiday Modern AU)

Summary: You get creative after you forget to get a Christmas gift for your best friend.

Happy Christmas and holidays, lovelies! This one’s for everyone who’s made the time to read and respond my personal posts, stories, and overall made this platform a wonderful place. Special dedication listed after the story!

You open your compact mirror to quickly check out your appearance - your cheeks are slightly rosy from the cold and your hair’s a little messy. Satisfied, you shut the mirror and stuff it in your purse and ring the doorbell.

A few silent beats shuffle by before the door opens. Clad in sweats and a navy shirt that hints his the muscular frame underneath, a slightly disheveled Bucky steps out. His disgruntled look is replaced with one of crinkled surprise and his lips part open. “What the -”

“HELLO AND MERRY CHRISTMAS!” you yell, flailing your arms out.

Bucky sleepily rubs his face. “Christmas is tomorrow, and you’re disrupting -”

“I’m here to give you your gift, my darling!” you interrupt, shaking your shoulders towards him.

Your best friend tilts his head and stares at you in a way that ceases your shoulder shaking. “This couldn’t wait until tomorrow?” he grumbles.

“Well, we leave for our trip tomorrow and -”

“Hold on,” Bucky butts in, holding up an index finger. He squints his eyes and lets his blue orbs slowly skim from your feet to the top of your head. He takes in your black tights, red skirt, and green crewneck sweater with Bucky’s alma mater’s insignia printed on the front. He pinches the sleeve of the sweater. “How and why do you have this?”

“Stole it from you when we went to your family’s beach house three years ago. It was the only green thing in my closet!” you happily chirp. “But how are you not talking about the pièce de résistance?!” you demand, pointing to your head.

Bucky’s blue eyes travel to the “pièce de résistance” you so proudly point to. Taped to your hair is a large and floppy gift ribbon you’ve fashioned from a two spools-worth of red ribbon. You spin side to side, showing off all the angles.

“Is this some fashion trend? Or is it -” Bucky stops, his eyes growing wide as he realizes the meaning behind the ribbon. “No. You wouldn’t.”

You sassily place your hand on your hip. “Tada! I’m your Christmas gift!” you cheer.

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Puppy Space 🐶
  • <p> <b><p></b> <b>Me:</b> Puppy I want you to do something for me but you've never done it before.<p/><b>Puppy:</b> Yes, mommy? What is it?<p/><b>Me:</b> What is the main things dogs do?<p/><b>Puppy:</b> *after a few guesses* ....bark, mommy?<p/><b>Me:</b> *nods*<p/><b>Puppy:</b> *whimpers while blushing madly and hiding behind stuffie*<p/><b>Me:</b> Awww, is someone a shy pup? C'mon puppy, pretend I'm a big bad intruder! What are you gonna do?!<p/><b>Puppy:</b> *gets too excited and flails uncontrollably and falls out of chair*<p/><b>Me:</b> *giggles* Puppyyyyy, not like thaaatttttt!<p/></p><p/></p>

Creator: https://mad-madam-m.tumblr.com/
Type of Work: Fanmix + ficlet
Title: Stiles’s Super Awesome Christmas Mix (for Derek Hale)
Audio Link:

Stiles was halfway through the last season of Parks and Recreation when someone yanked his earbud out of his ear.

He flailed and nearly tumbled out of his desk chair. “What the f—Derek?

Derek stood two feet away from him, the bedroom window wide open as he had apparently reverted to his creeper tendencies since Stiles had been at college.

Then Stiles saw the CD Derek gripped. Oh. Shit.

He tried for nonchalant. “So, uh, hey? How’re you doing? Good to see you again.”

Derek held up the CD. “You made this for me.”

Stiles scratched the back of his head. “Yes. I did.”

“You made me a mixtape.”

“Well, technically, it’s a mix CD, and that’s mostly because—” At the look on Derek’s face, Stiles cut himself off and cleared his throat. “Okay, yes. I made you a mixtape.”

Derek stared at the CD, his jaw working. “‘O Holy Night’ was my mother’s favorite song.”

Stiles remembered. It had been his mother’s favorite, too, a fact they had commiserated about during the holidays last year. “Yeah.”

“'Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas’ was Laura’s favorite. And this one…my dad loved the Nutcracker.”

Stiles remembered that, too. He remembered everything Derek had told him, and it suddenly occurred to him that even without the last song on the CD, Derek would’ve guessed his intentions. Derek would’ve known just from “O Holy Night.”

He cleared his throat and really hoped Derek wasn’t listening to his heart ricocheting out of his chest. “Yeah. Um, most of them are just songs I thought you would get a kick out of, or would like, but…”

“But some you put on here for my family.” Derek was still clutching the CD like he was afraid it would disappear if he didn’t keep a death grip on it.

Stiles sighed. “Yeah.”

“And the last one…”

Stiles turned back to his computer, hoisting his shoulders like a wall. He could handle a lot of things, but he couldn’t handle looking at Derek if this was a rejection. This had been a stupid idea. Stiles should’ve kept quiet, instead of pouring himself into a playlist like this.

Derek grabbed his arm and hauled him out of his desk chair. “Stiles.”

There was something in his voice that made Stiles actually look at him again. Derek’s eyes were wide open, vulnerable in a way Stiles didn’t think he’d ever seen.

“All I want for Christmas is you, too,” Derek said.

Stiles’s breath caught in his chest. Oh. “Oh.”

“Oh,” Derek repeated, a stupid smile on his face.

“I’d kind of like to kiss you,” Stiles blurted out. “If that's—”

Derek kissed him then, rendering the rest of the sentence moot.

Never mind. The playlist had clearly been the best idea ever.

so who wants to see the mess i typed to @bichaelwheeler regarding BYELER HEIGHT DIFFERENCE?!?!

  • imagine will having to stand up on his tippy toes to press a soft, sweet kiss against mike’s lips, but he overbalances and stumbles forward against mike’s chest instead and mike catches him, stumbling slightly back himself. he holds onto will for balance but they end up falling backward onto the floor in a giggling heap - a pile of silly boy laughter, warm, blushing cheeks and soft, secret smiles saved just for one another
  • will wearing one of mike’s long sleeved striped shirts with the sleeves falling over his hands in the most adorable way. mike just sighs and smiles as he sneaks his hands into the opening of the sleeves to wrap his fingers around will’s. he leans down to place a kiss against the top of will’s head and will snuggles into mike’s chest with a content little sigh. mike just rests his cheek against the soft, floral-scented nest of will’s hair and wraps his arms around him while will measures his breathing to the steady beat of mike’s heart.

The Last of Us
       → “What’re you, like twelve?”
               → “I’m fourteen. Not that that has anything to do with anything.”

So im eating cheetos in bed (like every normal person, gotta get my cheeto fix), and currently its 11 at night. Its as dark as my sense of humor and i can barely see. Im sitting under my covers and i didnt wanna touch anything since i have a large amount of cheeto dust on my fingers and that shit spreads like the plague when it touches any surface. So i put my hand out of the covers and hold it above the stuff on my bed so it doesnt get dirty. Suddenly i felt something nibbling and licking my fingers. Naturally i flip out and flail my arm to get rid of the cheeto-craving creature. It flips out and jumps directly on my face that is hidden under the blanket. I take the blanket off my head and look for the animal and see wide reflective floating eyes by the door. I scream “ay dios mio” at the top of my lungs, and then i hear a loud meow. At that moment i remember that 1.) I have a black cat
And 2.) I just woke up my parents
My dad opens my door and i have to explain why im covered in cheeto dust on tumblr on a school night, and when he heard my story he just. Left.
And thats my thrilling tale for the internet that will get no notes and will be on my blog forever.