form & file

Nintendo Announces Upcoming DLC Details for The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild!!!
  • The Dark World- An entire second map the size of the regular world with all new quests!
  • The Triforce Quest- A new main quest featuring the classic icon within the new “Great Pyramid Shrine” dungeon!
  • Two New Divine Beasts- Vah Gamerah based on the form of a turtle, and Vah Umbertus, based on the form of a walrus!
  • All New Weapons and Armor- Including the “Guardian Buster” sword, the “Bust Guardian” shirt, and the “Proton Pack” which can trap those pesky wizzrobes!
  • Mini-Games- “Waffle Making” and “Snot Rocket Distance!”
  • Unlockable Playable Characters- Ganondorf, Zelda, and Samus!
  • A “Nude Code”- By popular demand for Prince Sidon!
  • New Main Bosses- Including “Soilblight Ganon,” “Leafblight Ganon,” and the horrifying “Fusarium Ear Blight Ganon!”
  • Two New Runes: “Flame,” which can burn any substance in Hyrule, and “Guilt,” which makes enemies feel really bad about trying to hurt you, sending them into despondent hours of self contemplation and regret!
  • New Sheikah Slate Features- Including solutions to shrines in the “Sheikahpedia” and the words “Don’t Panic!” inscribed in large friendly letters on its cover!
  • Cars- Purchase and maintain cars with which you can drive across the plains of Hyrule. Customize your tires and paint job, keep an eye on your gas meter, and register your license plates with the Hyrule DMV! (75 Rupee surcharge per form filed in Lanaryu)
  • Mod Abilities- Including the ability to turn all Bokoblins into Macho Man Randy Savage!
  • Lent- Observe Lent by abstaining from meat for 40 days of game time!

that feeling when you’ve been reading all those gentle soft happy fanfics where everyone is gay and in love and it’s not a big deal and their friends all support them.

and your favourite superhero couples and detectives and kings and warlocks are just domestic and happy.

and then you emerge into the real world and it’s just not like that.

you walk into your job in the morning and know that if anyone knew, you’d be out the door. kids use the word ‘gay’ as a slur and it might be silly but it makes something hurt inside your chest. you look at your mother and think of the words she’d use to cut you with if you told her. the disgust on her face. you have your family around you and you know it could all be shattered in a minute and it would be you who’d done it.

everyone assumes your straightness. people look at you strangely when you use ‘they/them’ pronouns when asking what their fiancé’s name is, bcs you don’t want to make the same mistake that others make with you. you file forms with spaces for the mother’s name and father’s name and wonder how you’d fill them out if you had a partner and a child. you work with children and wonder what they have to hide about themselves.

and then, sometimes, you go home and read some more fanfic. maybe you write some, or draw fanart if that’s your thing. that’s the best thing, that we’re dreaming about a better world. maybe we’re not famous or published or earning money for what we do. but writing and reading fanworks like this helps a heck of a lot of people, including me, feel happy and comforted and like it’s possible that they might belong one day. that it gets better.

thank you, everyone who creates fanworks where being gay is simply treated as normal. your work is healing and wholesome and full of heart and goodness. and much as i may love the canon, it’s not the canon - it’s the fanworks that are a safe haven to retreat to and recover and heal.

You were about to make a medical comment, Jim?

So, I was thinking about what a goddamn badass Leonard McCoy is.

Actually, I was thinking about drug shortages. I am a resident in the United States. The United States of America. First world medicine, folks. And sometimes - all too frequently - I have to revise the treatment plan of a healthy patient undergoing elective surgery because I do not have access to the ideal drug.

In other words, I compromise.

That’s a sickening feeling, friends. 

Which brings me back to Bones.

Bones, Chief Medical Officer on a five year mission in deep space, where no man has gone before. Bones, who cares so goddamn deeply. Bones, desperately filing requisition forms for medications that he has no hope of receiving in the foreseeable future. Bones, elbow deep in a unfortunate ensign that caught the wrong end of a blast in engineering, sweat dripping in his eyes, nagging thoughts of, “is his name Jason or Joseph?” Bones, mad as hell because medical takes another budget cut. Bones praying frantically to a god he doesn’t believe in, “oh, please, not again.” Bones, eyeballing a unknown species and making a quick judgment call, based on a hasty heart rate estimate and an eyeballed weight, the effective loading dose of a - probably - renal toxic drug. Bones, hissing at Spock to shut the hell up, all the while making his own calculations. Bones, who years after the mission has ended, bolts up out of a dead sleep in a panic of adrenaline, because endless nights of call have made gentle awakenings impossible. Bones, staring dumbstruck at Starfleet Medical’s supply rooms. Bones, dedicatedly carting his tiny medkit on his hip, facing an alien world with a tricorder and a few hypos. Bones, hiding in his quarters for days, pouring over all of the federation’s published xenophysiology records, searching for a connection, wondering where it went wrong. Bones replaying the day’s scene in his mind, fear still gripping his chest as Jim sleeps peacefully in the biobed. Bones alone in the field, performing a bilateral finger thoracostomy on a blue-lipped yeoman who reminds him a little too much of Joanna (if somebody does not write this fic, I will). Bones, fresh out of med school, feverently murmuring his oath with conviction and wide-eyed naivety. Bones blaming himself. Bones bitching about the unpredictability of genetically modified antimicrobials. Bones needing a goddamn drink. Bones, contemplating the nuances of therapeutic nihilism. Bones, forcing himself to meet Jim’s eyes as Jim officiates a funeral. Bones, calculating pharmacokinetics in his head. Bones, knowing there was nothing to be done, but dammit, what if? Bones, painstakingly documenting his every discovery, every treatment plan, every failure and every triumph, for the next generation of medical professionals. Bones in his office with his head in his hands. Bones, absolutely giddy and shaking with relief, “Don’t be so melodramatic; you were barely dead.”

Practicing medicine is terrifying. Every day, I am horrified at the thought that I will not be able to provide for my patients. I love my field with every breath in my body, but the responsibility is overwhelming, and sobering.

Disease and danger, indeed.


“By golly, Jim, I’m beginning to think I can cure a rainy day.

Yeah, Leonard McCoy. I think you can.

Imagine Dirk Gently being so excited about getting the agency up and running that he starts handing out invoices to practically everyone over the smallest things.

Imagine him sticking one to the Rowdy 3′s van (for services rendered, to whit, sixteen bloody years of feeding on my psychic energy, you assholes) before legging it up the nearest alley.

Your grandfather was a fisherman. Your father and aunts and uncles worked the waters and the docks in the coastal town you hail from. It’s not glamorous, and nobody in the family had made it into college before. You grew up in a tidy little house that always smelled a bit of fish with a huge extended family.

Nobody expected the scholarship letter when it arrived, praising your performance in the local high school swim team, and nobody had ever heard of the school. Your parents were thrilled, and so were most of the aunts and uncles. Your grandfather was suspicious, making vague noises that sounded like “tricks and bargains and that kind of business.” What he said out loud was: “Don’t ever leave the sea. It’ll break your heart, girl.”

You were excited and optimistic and exuberant, and you packed your competition suit and a bag of things from home and you went off to college, not listening.

————

Freshman year was odd. You knew you wouldn’t really fit in, given you were a scholarship kid from the back end of the east coast, but it was more than that. You were, of course, on the women’s swim team, but some of the other athletes were … you couldn’t put your finger on it. A couple of the girls seemed too tall, and they never quite got the green from the pool out of their hair. One of the boys was much stockier than the others, a bit like your dad, but he could swim as fast and powerfully as you. He wouldn’t ever speak to you. Some of them were hard to look at, and kept to themselves. Some of them were just ordinary, but they kind of steered clear of you too. It seemed the only thing holding the teams together were the coaches. There were practices, and competitions and your team always did amazingly, but never made it out of state.

Your classes were … classes. Like high school but more interesting. Your managed to keep a decent GPA to hold onto that scholarship, but some of it was a chore. Sandy the RA gave you a list of rules and warned you about some of the other students. There was some superstition about, but given your heritage, none of that seemed off. Fishermen are superstitious folks.

Your roommate was snooty and complained constantly that you still smelled of fish, especially after winter break. You finally told her to go suck a clam and she stopped speaking to you. That was fine with you. You weren’t much for socializing with people who didn’t know the ocean.

That one guy, though, the one who asked you out after the first week of Comp 102 in January. That one, he was great. He was some kind of surfer kid from California. Not a college athlete, but Surfer Boy skated everywhere, talked constantly about the beaches and waves. Somehow tan even in winter.

The third week you were dating, he got you that steel ring for “safety” and you thought it was sweet. It said “always yours” on the inside and got stuck on your finger.

And then - your swimming performance dropped off. They threatened to bench you. There was an uncomfortable conference with the coach and the dean. The rest of the team avoided you even more, and Surfer Boy got … weird. Possessive. Mean.

He thought it was fine that you weren’t competing for a while. He could have you all to himself outside of class time. Isn’t that great? Maybe you could come to California with him for Spring Break. You didn’t want to, though. You wanted to go back to the cold water of home.

Then, about a week after you got benched, out of the blue while you were studying together, he asked you where your skin was. You had no idea what he meant, WTF was this serial killer shit he was asking you? You suddenly remembered Sandy’s warnings, and took off without your books to ask her for help, maybe how to get a restraining order? And maybe to help get this ring off, too.

Sandy the RA (short for Cassandra? Because nobody ever listened to her, not because it was her name) halfway listened to you, nodded tiredly, grabbed a form from a file for submitting to the dean of students and campus security and had you fill it out. Then, as you were both reading the forms over for errors, she looked up sharply, said, “Wait. A ring? Let me see that.”

Sandy took one look at it, got out a saw, and before you could even react, cut it off your finger, in two pieces. One piece said “always” the other said “yours” and she shook her head. “I thought I told you to never accept gifts?”

“But he’s just human, Sandy. Normal, even. More normal than I am.”

“Yeah, nobody ever listens to me.”

Under where the ring had sat for two of the worst weeks of your life, was fur. Sleek, short, dark fur. You yelped.

Sandy blinked slowly, somehow looking completely unsurprised, and said, “That stocky guy on the men’s swim team? The one they call Lion? GO. Talk to him. Show him your hand, he’ll talk to you now. I think he can help.”

As you left, she said, with her back turned, “I don’t think your grandfather was completely honest with you. Have you ever seen any photos of your grandmother? Do you know where she was from?”

(X)

Who Should You Fight: The Bright Sessions Edition

(idk if someones made this already BUT)

Dr. Bright

Chance of winning: 40%

Homegirl’s a doctor, not a fighter, and im pretty sure theres something in the Hippocratic oath about “do no harm”, but is it for therapists? see rating. She could possibly psychoanalyze her way around you and maybe manipulae you for her own goals, and she’s been taking yoga classes so she’s probably really flexible. If youre fit, go for it. 

Sam 

Chance of winning: ???

She’d probably get so anxious that she’d time travel and where would that leave you? Alone and with no one to fight. In any case, why would you ever??? Let her rest, she’s been through enough. 

Chloe 

Chance of winning: 0%

Listen. She’s a telepath, she knows youre next move before even you do. You can say “oh shes just an art student!!” all you want but consider: she’s a sculptor and can probably take your eye out with a scoring tool. Do not attempt. 

Caleb

Chance of winning: 10%

Dude’s a football player, so he’s pretty darn ripped, and probably fast too. Can literally sense fear, will use that to his advantage. Only attempt of you want a challenge. 

Adam

Chance of winning: 90%, but at what cost?

This child is an emo wreck and will end up crying on the floor if you hit him, which is not fun for anyone. Also, his boyfriend will 100% beat you up for it, so theres that. And I will also beat you up. Leave this boy alone. 

Damien

Chance of winning: 0%

listen I know what the rating says, and we all know why its like that but please, p l e a s e fight Damien, everyone will cheer you on. You’ll fail but it will be glorious. Fight Damien. 

Mark

Chance of winning: 50%

He seems like a pretty normal guy? that rating goes up or down depending on what atypical he’s near, but in a fair one on one throwdown? average joe. Go for it for a fun time, he’ll probably take you out for ice cream and a beer afterwards. 

 Agent Green 

Chance of winning: 99%

PLEase fight him it will be easy and hilarious. The guy is a bureaucrat and needs to file forms in triplicate to get authorization to throw down, so time is on your side. Fight Agent Green. 

Wadsworth

Chance of winning: 0%

Don’t do it. 

mulder waxgate

To provide some context to this post… I mentioned in re-watch chat tonight that there’s a notable difference in Mulder’s chest hair from season 1 to season 6. On reflection + research, it’s certainly less noticeable than I had remembered (in my defence, those Monday abs are really distracting). But I think the following screencaps demonstrate a difference in manscaping nonetheless.

For your consideration…

Chest hair - Vancouver years

Chest hair - LA years

It was surprisingly hard to find as good a topless still in Monday as in Fire… as in a “waist-up, squarely facing the camera” kinda moment… which is unbelievable because in my memory he was naked for that entire episode?!?!

Bonus Monday ab pic because damn ahem okay:

Anyway… it seems a little thinned out to me. I think the following Mulder quote says it best…

Drive down the shoulder of the road? Enjoy your fine.

I’m a New Yorker, and like all New Yorkers who drive, I hate cabbies and livery drivers with a fiery passion. I don’t hate someone just because they happen to be one of these drivers, but such a large percentage of them are perfectly happy to speed through traffic, never use a turn signal, cut you off, fuck over tourists, rapidly weave across lanes to pick up a fare, etc… that it’s hard not to generalize.

Anyway, I drive on Van Wyck Expressway every day. Everyone from the area knows that the Van Wyck has been perpetually under construction pretty much since it opened (Seinfeld even has a bit about it). Traffic is frequently congested, but it would more or less move along except that many drivers feel they’ve found a magical shortcut by cutting down the emergency shoulder, then when the shoulder runs out, they have to force their way over. This slows down everyone.

I have a dashcam on my car, and a few months ago, I got footage of a black livery SUV went speeding past me on the shoulder. I reviewed the footage later, and you can see the license plate clear as day.

I decided to check out the Taxi and Limousine Commission’s website, and found they have a very easy online form to file out a complaint about a taxi or livery driver. I filled it out, and uploaded the video as well as a couple of stills taken from it.

It was a long process, but a prosecutor for the TLC called me to discuss what happened, and they confirmed that the driver was indeed in violation of TLC rules, and would have to attend a hearing, and asked that I be available to participate in the hearing by phone as well.

On the date of the hearing, I called in and summarized what happened. I disconnected after that, so I’m not sure what the driver’s side of the story was, but it must not have been persuasive, because today (about two weeks later), I received an e-mail saying he had been found guilty, and given a $700 fine.

L I S T E N   U P ,                                    K I L L J O Y S !

Here’s BL/ind’s form for filing us Killjoys away. If you wanna look cool, go ahead and copy n past this fucker into a document of your own, fill ‘er out, and file>publish to the web to get a shareable link. Slap that fucker all over kingdom come.

And as always, tumbleweeds,

Keep running.

[ Tom Hiddleston - Extended imagine ]“Cigarettes and Divorce Forms”.

Based on: Imagine: Filing for divorce from Tom, and him signing the papers even though he still loves you, because he knows you aren’t happy with him and all he wants is to see you smile even if its not him who can make it happen anymore.

Written by: A.Wölf.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tom stared at the clock before lighting his 5th cigarette in the last 67 minutes. The ticking noise seemed to echo in the room.

The lawyer adjusted his cufflinks for the 3rd time and took a deep breath glancing at his impatient client with a worried look.

“How much longer are you going to wait, Mr.Hiddleston?”

Tom glared at him with the cigarette burning between his fingers.

“She’ll be here”, he murmured clenching his jaw.

“It’s been-”

“I’m sorry”, Tom cut him off, “Am I not paying you enough, mate? Because you sure as hell know how to charge”.

The lawyer shifted in his seat awkwardly and interlaced his fingers before him with a softer expression, understanding his client’s bad mood.

Well, what I mean is… that maybe this is a good thing. You know… maybe she doesn’t want the divorce after all. Many people avoid these things because they don’t really want to get divorced”, he stammered.

Tom narrowed his eyes and cocked his head.

“Oh believe me. She wants it”, he said holding smoke in his mouth.

Keep reading

6

School is coming up quick and that means I need money for food, loans, and otherwise surviving the winter… If you like my art, but can’t buy, please reblog!

Contact me at: mmanning@c.ringling.edu with any offers or questions

Please include in your email:

  • your tumblr url
  • commission details & visual reference of character(s) (in the form of files or links)
The Daughter of Hades - rewrite // p1

summary: you thought your close friend and long time crush James Buchanan Barnes was going off to war, but it seems you would be the one to battle all types of war from being a weapon for a dangerous organization known as Hyrda, to fighting a war with your own mind.

pairings: Bucky x female reader

warnings: angst, violence, car crash, injections, swearing,

thoughts are in italics

A/N: i really appreciate all of the great feedback i got from the original Daughter of Hades, but personally i wasn’t happy with some of the content and decided to rewrite the (unfinished) series with a new plot :) i hope everyone enjoys this adaptation as much as the first <3

Originally posted by imagine-that-marvel


1945, Brooklyn

Naturally, you weren’t much of a drinker, you’d have a couple of beers and stop there. People would call you the sober one, even though you drank more than any normal girl. They’d say you weren’t fun; but you felt responsible for your friends and wanted to make sure they got home safe. But with Bucky leaving for war soon, why not have more than usual? You’d been out with a few friends tonight, two of your closest friends Bucky and Steve who you’ve known since high school, and Clara who had just dealt with a break up. She was completely heart broken and ended up having two beers, a whisky and three glasses of wine. You had just been to the bathroom and returned to see Steve and Bucky at the bar, with Clara in a corner booth with her head on the table next to an uncomfortably close man.

“Steve! Bucky!” You shouted over the chatter so you could scowl at them for not looking after your friend. “Why is Clara half asleep on the table?” You said in your mun voice with your hands on your hips.

“She went to sit with some girls that new her.” Bucky said without turning to look at her, but he was never good at looking confident when you were in your mum stance.

Annoyed at their ignorance and carelessness, you grabbed both of them by the ear and turned them to Clara’s table. “I’m pretty sure he is not a girl and that Clara does not know him.” You pushed through the middle of them to make your way to Clara, but not without smacking both of them on the back of the head.

“Clara, honey I think it’s time we get you home.” You shook her gently to stir her awake, to which she sat up a little to quickly.

She moaned and held her head, “Okay, but I’m driving,”

You chuckled lightly and helped her out of the booth; you started walking to Bucky and Steve, when someone grabbed your arm. “Hey, you can’t take her away she’s with me.” The man that was next to Clara slurred his words together, his breath reeked of alcohol.

“I don’t think so.” You tried pulling your arm free but he tightened his grip.

“C’mon she’s safe with me.” He leant in further to you.

“Look sweetie, nobody would be safe with you. We’re leaving.”

“Alright you can stay if you want,” He started raising his voice which caught the attention of Steve and Bucky. You finally got your arm free and turned away again, “but you’re not going anywhere, sweetcheeks.” He landed a hard smack on your ass and grinned proudly. You froze in your tracks and slowly turned to face him.

Bucky wanted to punch that guy in the face so hard for what he just did to you; his crush on you meant he was always overprotective but this time it was necessary. But before he was within three feet of the man, you punched him square in the nose. There was a loud crack as his head flew back and he lost his balance, you kicked him in the groin for good measure making him curl up on the floor. 

When you turned around, Steve was holding up Clara, Bucky was gawking at you and the whole bar was quiet. Even the music had stopped. You smoothed out the creases in your dress and smiled like you just walked into the room. Your heels echoed throughout the room as you moved to Clara.

The music quickly returned and so did the chatter, probably about the kind faced woman giving a drunken giant a broken nose. You thanked Steve for helping Clara and turned to Bucky who still stared at you in awe.

“You catching flies there Buck?” When you didn’t get a reply you pushed up his jaw and gave him a lingered kiss on the cheek. “I’m taking Clara home, I’ll see you tomorrow. Dancing right?” He nodded slowly. You gave Steve a peck on the cheek as well. “Bye Steve.”

“Wait Y/N, are you going to get home okay?” It was cute how concerned he looked while still having the shock in his eyes from the current events. It did annoy you slightly though.

“Sweetie, I’m not that far away from here I’ll be fine.” You winked and then left.

Bucky, still quite shocked at the fight you put up, sat down in his stool bar and sighed. “What am I going to do punk?”

Steve retook his seat next to Bucky and ordered drinks for the two. “What do you mean?” Bucky was never unsure of anything, especially when it came to girls.

“I think I’m in love.” He replied with a smile.

“You’ve got to tell her Buck. What happened to the confident, ladies man I grew up with? Y’know, say something before its too late.” Steve rested a hand on Bucky’s back.

The bartender returned with their drinks and Bucky took a sip; he’d be shipping to England soon and he may never see you again. But for once in his life he didn’t know what to say to a girl. You weren’t like the other girls he’s dated; you were cocky, you preferred hanging out with the boys, you weren’t afraid to stand up for yourself; you just beat up a guy in front of a bar full of people and when the two of you first met you were the first to resist his charm. 

He raised his glass to Steve in cheers. “Tomorrow. When we go dancing.” He said smiling.

“I’ll make sure of that.”

“I know you would. If I don’t you’ll be on my ass ‘till I leave.” They both laughed loudly, and did for the rest of the night.


The drive home was thankfully peaceful, Clara had fallen asleep, rain was tapping on the roof and windshield of the car, and there was no traffic. Unusual. The street lamps created a warm, orange hue that reflected off the wet roads and created the illusion of driving on a river that was ablaze with an auburn fire. Either that or you had started hallucinating due to the amount of alcohol you drank. But you were a good driver none the less, and a safe one at that.

 But it surprised you when your headache got painfully stronger and the pounding in your head got louder Your vision had also started to blur, which is probably why you didn’t notice the tow large military Jeeps in front and behind you, suddenly appear. The problem was the one in front of you was facing you, you just didn’t know.

The Jeep behind you suddenly sped up and pulled up beside the driver’s door, it then rammed into the car forcefully and bent your car door inwards, trapping your arm. You managed to keep control of the car but didn’t hit the brakes, adrenaline had clouded your thinking skills. The Jeep next to you slowed and your gaze followed it as it dropped behind you.

When you returned your gaze to the road ahead, you were met with full beam headlights directly in your path by around 20 meters. You tried to swerve out f the way but the passenger side grazed the Jeep and the back flew out. The car spun twice before clipping the kerb and rolling down the main street in a battered wreck.

The car was now on it’s side in the middle of the road. You looked to your right to see Clara’s body lazily slumped against the car door as your seatbelt held you above her. Drops of blood were dripping from your head and landing on her beautiful face, then slowly running across the valley of her features. There was a large pool of blood next to her, when you followed the drips of blood you traced it to your left arm which hung loosely across your chest. It was broken. You groggily muttered Clara’s name to ask her for her injuries, but soon realized that her chest lay still and that another pool of blood bordered her head.

A light shines across your face for a brief second; you look up to see two dark figures walking towards you, flashlight in hand. They were talking amongst themselves in a foreign language with thick accents as they approached. If you weren’t hanging limply in your car with a broken arm you would’ve tried to get out and see who they were, but you were slowly losing consciousness.

For a moment you thought you were hallucinating, but in fact the car was being turned to sit haphazardly on all four wheels. The quick and unsettling movement caused pain to grow all over your body, especially due to your head and arm injuries.

Your car door was ripped from its secure spot, exposing the two mangled bodies inside. One of the figures shone the light directly into your eyes, to which you squinted and slowly turned away. The other figure was looking through the passenger window at Clara. They began conversing in the same language as before; the figure next to Clara walked off while the one next to you rested a hand on your shoulder.

"You need to come with us it’s not safe here, we can help you.” The figure, now speaking in English, still had their thick accent. You turned to look at them and saw a small man in a great suit with round glasses. “I’m going to get more help, wait here.”

When he walked out of sight, you noticed he had left a briefcase on the ground. You one-handedly unclipped the seatbelt and stumbled quietly out of the vehicle. The briefcase was surprisingly unlocked, so you rummaged through the contents for something; anything that could give you answers to who these people are.

Underneath multiple forms and confidential files, a handgun lay at the bottom of the case. After making sure it had a few rounds in it, you walked round the passenger side of the car wreckage. The crash hadn’t damaged your legs too much but they did hurt with all of your weight on them. You aimed the gun at the small man, who was talking to a significantly larger one, and lent on the car for support; also for a steady aim.

When the gun clicked after you had armed it, the two men turned to face you; both shocked at how you got the gun, and how you had such strength and determination after such a big accident. “Who are you?” You choked out.

“Darling, I’m a doctor.” He started as he walked to you slowly, as if not to spook an animal. “You shouldn’t be walking, you’ve suffered a lot of injuries. Let me take you to the hospital.”

You weren’t sure if the alcohol still had an affect on you or if you actually believed this man, but you lowered the gun and rested yourself on the floor against the car. Just then he lent down and whispered in your ear. “Everything that follows is all for a great cause.”

Before you and ask him what he meant, the larger man pinned you down and stabbed a needle into your neck. Very quickly, you stated loosing all feeling in your body and was going limp, every object in front of you seemed to merge into one, and then everything went black.



tags: @that-sarcastic-pisces, @writings-of-a-british-fangirl

A/N: I really hope you enjoyed this re-write, I just felt like we needed some original Bucky love in there to get the plot going. 😊

do you want to be tagged? let me know in the comments or message me?

“This isn’t an intentional bribe I just happened to be baking at 4am.” The voice startles Natasha who freezes on the sofa she’d just strewn herself gracelessly onto. Her eyes snap open and her body tenses. But there’s not eminent death, the voice is unknown but no one is attacking her so they can’t be here to hurt her. Lazily as if she wasn’t just startled she turns her head toward the kitchen stark had set up in their common area. The young woman standing there is holding a dripping whisk over cookie sheet and has flour smudged across her forehead. The likelihood of death shrinks even further in Natasha’s mind. She arches a brow. All her questions in one. The girl must belong here. She’ll know.

“I’m Darcy, I help with the Science! and make cookies at odd hours.” She says and slowly splatters more dough onto the sheet. Both her hands stay visible and she’s moving in measured movements like she knows she’s started the assassin and is trying to prove she’s a friendly. 

“Bribe?” The word comes out rougher than intended but Natasha hasn’t spoken in a few hours and needs a drink. The girl relaxes and begins to form her cookies more confidently. 

“It’s just that, Well I’ve mastered the Eye Twitch . I’m good. But Barton? Barton has achieved this like Vein Forehead Bulging thing that makes the Eye Twitch look mediocre. And you get it, I can’t be mediocre next to Clint. But nothing bothers Phil enough.” 

Natasha smirks and lets her head fall into the back of the sofa to watch the curious girl. 

“Clint does” 

“Oh. OH!

#############

After that night, Natasha watched Darcy charm the hell out of every Avenger to cross her path with a mixed batch of stubborn acts of Bad-Assary  and adorableness. 

Clint and Thor were wooed by her tasering of Thor and ceaseless bitching about her Ipod in a time before Natasha. Clint loves to bring up the seven different triplicate filed forms she submitted stating how the thift was unnecessary and just freaking rude. Clint of course has a weakness for people who are bitchy via paperwork so Natasha counts him as an easy win. 

Steve Rogers, however is not an easy win. He’s sad and grumpy lots of the time, and working the rest of the time. So he doesn’t care for the seemingly flippant girl at first. Eventually Steve falls into her clutches when they’re mid battle and Darcy, who happened to be downtown to meet some friends, rushes to the front of a crowd of trembling civilians and told the monologuing Doctor Doom to “Get Bent” before lobbing a rock at the tallest and ugliest robot that was probably meant to be RoboBear or something similar. Darcy’s defiance makes the stern Captain bark out a laugh into the stunned silence before he can stop himself. Doom turned in Rage to the man laughing at him and the New Yorkers emboldened by the brunette begin throwing anything not tied down at the monsters. 

After that the Captain laughs more. He smiles down at Darcy like she’s a miracle and he’s not sure how he got so lucky to have her near.  Natasha understands that more than she’d like to admit. Darcy’s 4AM cookies have bribed more than the girl intended. Thankfully it doesn’t become an issue when Steve admits one day during lunch that she reminds him of Bucky. 

Darcy of course preens a little and pinches Steve’s cheek. 

“Awwweee you big nerd!!!”

Bruce had been a slow turner as he is in most things. She brings an array of teas by his desk swapping out the cups while he mutters and scribbles like a mad scientist. Natasha watches with interest as Darcy buys a thousand and ten flavors and Bruce drinks them all without complaint, even tho he only enjoys a few. Then orbit each other like that for the longest time but when Bruce turns up to the gym one morning for Yoga to find Darcy drooling lightly onto a mat, he’s done for. She had tried to catch him at it many of the previous days and had only been met by the smells of freshly put of candles and his rolled up mat. So She’d gotten up even earlier or perhaps went straight from 4AM Natasha time to the gym to stake him out. Natasha suspects this as Darcy’s shirt is still a little icky form where she wipes her hands on it after she cracks eggs.

Bruce looks at Natasha and then fondly back at the brunette before shaking his head. Sucker, Natasha thinks, but can’t fault the man because she knows she’s hooked too.

Tony’s probably the easiest and it honestly could have gone either way. Everyone’s passing threw the kitchen in search of some form of breakfast. Steve’s fresh in from a run and Natasha had only just woken up herself but not Tony or Darcy. They’ve been up all night doing Science! They’re not even here for food really just coffee. They blunder toward the coffee pot and sort of have a stand off when they realize they others goal. 

“We’re on a 36 hour break thru” She says calmly. Tony frowns thoughtfully. 

“I just got off a plane form Tokyo” He counters.

“I live next door to Thor and Jane and they bang a lot.” Steve chokes on whatever he was eating. 

“Pepper made me sit in chair meetings?” He offers weakly. Darcy’s eyes light as if she knows she’s going to win. 

“I had to take loans for my degree and I’ve never ridden in an Aston Martin ” She says smugly. Tony blanches and waves her ahead. 

“We can fix that if you ever get done sciencing,I’ve got a few in the garage.” Tony offers searching for his blend at the back of the cabinet. 

“Nice I’ve never had a sugar daddy before! Can we make it like a sugar uncle tho? because I’m on an no dude diet” Steve chokes again. Tony however laughs.

“Yea kid no problem” He switches the filter not looking at Darcy. The brunette gathers her victory coffee and leans in to kiss Tony on the cheek. 

“Thanks Tony!” and she’s off like a breeze threw their airtight tower. Tony adores her. 

################

It’s during 4AM cookie time when things change again for Natasha. She wonders into the kitchen to find Darcy baking but also drinking heavily. The brunette hic-ups loudly and grins at the assassin. 

“Welcome to my midnight kitchen Tasha,” Darcy waves her spoon around in wide fast motions, a glob of batter flings across the face of the fridge.

“What’s the occasion?” The red head nods at the bottle. Darcy grabs is and examines the label as tho she had forgotten it was there. She hums slightly with a frown. 

“It was a courage shot, but I think it’s closer to a courage bottle now” She admits placing it slowly back on the counter. “Oh Darcy,” She rests her elbows on the counter and her head in her hands. “messing things up” She sighs. 

“I don’t think you need that for courage, little one, you are incredibly brave” Natasha says kindly. Darcy snorts and pops the spoon into her mouth.

“Not about you” Darcy says around her spoon. “Just wanted to say I love youu” she muttered her cheek still packed with dough and a spoon. Her eyes water slightly in the dim lights of the night. Natasha’s heart clenches with a sudden and strong hope. 

“That’s very good news, but I think you should tell me again in the morning” Natasha says taking the spoon from her mouth and pulling Darcy’s hand to bring her closer. The brunette folds effortlessly into Natasha’s arms and the red head smiles into her curls. 

“This isn’t an intentional bribe but I just happen to have Gatorade and painkillers in my apartment and you’re gonna want it in the morning.” Natasha offers. 

“Awwe isn’t that what I said to you? You’re so cute Tasha, cute and funny and smart and you helped me make Phil’s forehead do the thing” Darcy taps her temple with an adoring smile. Natasha chuckles and presses her lips to Darcy’s temple lightly. 

“Well it was a good bribe”  

anonymous asked:

Do you know of anywhere I can learn about legal name changes in the usa? I tried to look it up myself and only got things about marriages 😔

This is going to differ state to state. Usually you must file a petition with the court.

Generally, to get a court order changing your name AND gender, follow these steps:

  1. Fill out your court forms
  2. Have your doctor fill out an affidavit telling the court that you have undergone clinically appropriate treatment for change of gender
    Your doctor can use the Declaration of Physician or write out his or her own declaration. It is very important it be done by a licensed physician; it cannot be done by a nurse. If your doctor uses his or her own letter, make sure it contains all the required information.
  3. Have your forms reviewed
    If your court’s family law facilitator or self-help center helps people with name and gender change cases, ask them to review your paperwork. They can make sure you filled it out properly before you move ahead with your case.
  4. Make 1 copy of all your forms
  5. File your forms with the court clerk
    File all the forms and copies in the superior court in the county where you live. The clerk will stamp your forms “Filed,” keep the original, and return the copies to you. The clerk will give you a date for your court hearing and will write it on the Order to Show Cause, along with information on the time and department number for your hearing.
    You will have to pay a filing fee. Find out how much the filing fee is for a first petition (sometimes called a “first appearance” or “first papers”). If you cannot afford the fee, you can ask for a fee waiver.
  6. Go to your court hearing
    Go to court on your court date and take a copy of the papers you filed, along with the Decree Changing Name and Gender  for the judge to sign.
  7. Get your Decree Changing Name and Gender from the court
    If the judge approves your request for a change of name and gender, the judge will sign the Decree Changing Name and Gender Once you get your signed decree, get a certified copy from the court clerk. You will need this to change all your legal documents, including your birth certificate and other government-issued identification like your driver’s license. 
  8. Some courts also require you to fill out local forms to ask for a name change, like a criminal background information form. Ask your local court clerk if there are local forms you have to fill out. Some courts also have forms on their websites. Find your local court’s website. Make sure to keep copies of any local forms you fill out.

Important! IF YOU RESIDE IN CALIFORNIA You do not need a court ordered gender change to change your California driver’s license, social security card, or U.S. passport. You also no longer need a court order to have a new birth certificate issued reflecting a change of gender (for California birth records). You may want to get a court ordered gender change to amend your birth certificate if you were born outside of California

REFERENCE: http://www.courts.ca.gov/25797.htm

Kyle

Another delightful installment in the Demon Attraction AU. Things are just completely out of hand. Ignis is weaker than he’d like to be. 

NSFW, tension, scratching, biting, light injury, and some mentions of body mod if the form of filing or pulling teeth. I know, that seems like it doesn’t fit but. Yeah. 


Ignis had seen Noctis is many different states, ranging from tired to annoyed to angry and everything anymore. He’d thought he’d witnessed everything there was to witness as far as the prince’s moods went but today was truly a day for revelations. First that the man he’d thought he’d known everything about was, in fact, not the beta he’d seemed to be, then that he could be moved to violence against Prompto of all people and now. Now this.

Ignis had read once that omegas tended to be more feline in the way their instincts manifested. He’d never thought much on that but, as Noctis hissed and spit and tried to claw his way out of his arms, he decided he could see where the comparison came from. He could feel the stinging scratches on his arms where his sleeves were rolled up, suspected some of them might have been bleeding, and it was only a hand around Noct’s mouth that was saving him from being bitten seriously. As it was his palm and fingers were wet with saliva and he could feel teeth scraping against them.

Noctis’ glare as Ignis moved him bodily back to the tent could have curdled milk and started fires. Would that he could have carried him as easily as Gladio had grabbed Prompto but, sadly, he had to half drag-half carry the prince, and fight him every step of the way. The hissing behind his hand only got louder the further they got from Prompto (who Ignis could hear scuffling with Gladio, a true sign that the omega wasn’t thinking clearly) and Noct’s furious look intensified.

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