going to burn your house down

The Five Times You Encounter Dean Winchester

Word Count: 2,914

Warnings: Drinking. 

A/N: I missed writing Dean, so this happened :) Hope y’all enjoy! Let me know ^^ 

Originally posted by out-in-the-open


Five Years Old
There is a new kid in your kindergarten class. He’s quiet, has freckles all about his tiny face, and wide green eyes. He stands next to the teacher as she introduces him to everyone and you smile widely when you realize that the only open seat in the classroom is the one next to you.

A new friend and you’re thrumming with excitement as he takes his seat next to you.

“Dean!” you exclaim, making him jump.

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YouTuber AU

there aren’t enough of these so I’ve decided to add my own because why the hell not.

  • Percy -mutherfuckin- Jackson
  • His username would be super basic like BabyPoseidon or something. 
  • His video’s would all be about random stories he would make up like “HOW TO SURVIVE AN ANGRY GIRLFRIEND” and Annabeth would be in the thumbnail just flipping the bird to Percy as he runs down the street.
  • “How I Got Kicked Out of (another) Walmart” would be his most viewed videos because he’s been kicked out of multiple Walmarts.
  • Annabeth Chase
  • her channel name would be like Do-It-With-Money instead of like Do-It-Yourself because she doesn’t understand the points or diys but she does them anyway
  • You wouldn’t fuck with her
  • she’d be that one YouTuber kinda like a DIY girl except at the end she’d let Leo set everything on fire because When in the world am I going to need an edible phone case.
  • in most of the backgrounds during her filming you would either A) hear Percy or B) see him running down the hallway to fuck with her filming.
  • “How to Bury Your Boyfriend’s Body” would be her most viewed video because it’s fucking hilarious
  • Hazel Levesque
  • she’d be the new Thomas Sanders. 
  • Do i need to put anything else because i don’t think i do
  • Jason Grace
  • holy shit
  • he’d be the new Bill Nye the Science Guy
  • except either Piper or Percy would be with him at all times and they’d either almost burn his house down or almost kill a gerbil
  • “PERCY I SAID NO GERBIL WHAT THE FUCK WHERE DID YOU EVEN GET A - YOU KNOW WHAT I DON’T WANNA KNOw”
  • he’d try and do makeup tutorials but Piper would come in half-way and just do it for him
  • Piper Mclean
  • She’d do the makeup halloween things but
  • she’d also be the biggest motherfucking prankster ever
  • Leo would frequently help her put freaking baby powder in Jason’s hair dryer
  • “Why I Might Need a New Identity” is her most viewed video because she almost burns down a Target bathroom
  • Leo Valdez
  • He’d be the new gamer and also prankster
  • he’d say this game isn’t scary and then promptly fall out of his chair
  • Calypso would be in the background just like im dating this dumbass
  • he’d also have a weekly cooking show with Calypso where she tries to take it seriously but he’d just like let’s ADD SOME GUMMYBEARS TO THE LASAGNA
  • I don’t think Frank would have one he’d be too busy volunteering at animal shelters and shit
  • but he is in 99% of Hazel’s videos 
  • its practically a collab channel at this point
  • Nico
  • he’d be the angsty gay one
  • except he wouldn’t come out
  • in a Q+A one of the questions would be When are we gonna meet your girlfriend and he’d just fuckin DIE OF LAUGHTER
  • “Do i honestly even look straight to you guys? I mean, phan is a thing right?”
  • Im sorry but i have to add Will
  • because he’d be the one to nurture people on health but in the stupidest ways possible like
  • Way To Not Die #782: Don’t drink Cyanide. Just, don’t? PLease?
  • He’d be in a secret relationship with Nico and everyone ships them
  • they’d always show up in the background of each other’s videos doing the stupidest shit ex: shooting a bow and arrow at a china cabinet or pretending to be a stripper
  • whenever Nico would call him while recording Will would pick up and just scream “WADDUP BITCH”
  • And if he was still recording when Nico got home Nico would either A) kick over his tripod or B) dump a bucket of something on his head

im sorry but i needed to do this

the signs, yo

Aries: Funniest rants, trust me; Seems like a badass, but they’re harmless until you seriously piss them off; Do not piss them off, their limits are usually reasonable and they will fight you; Unafraid to act, especially to defend you; Always thinking about what’s coming up next; Great at starting projects they never completely finish; Sincere friends.

Taurus: Big, sweet cow eyes; Honestly just hug them and never let go, it’ll be the best decision you ever make; Warm aura; They’ll embarrass themselves, but it’s endearing instead of cringe-worthy; Calm presence; Naturally reserved, but they will let you in if you genuinely care; Unintentionally funny; Some quality of theirs makes people look up to them.

Gemini: They try so hard, bless their hearts; Cutest clothes; One of you is going to have a crush on the other; Awkward in a way that makes tension disappear; Unintentionally attracts trouble; It doesn’t occur to them to not put up with your shit; Not very considerate to your emotions unless they’re helping you with a specific issue; Super passionate about their fandoms and interests; Someone you can always talk to.

Cancer: Fucking dweebs that will laugh over the most bizarre things; Will always love you; Messy; They genuinely want you to do your best; They deeply care about all of their friends, too; Give great hugs; Take everything personally and fully invest themselves; They might get too wrapped up in something that doesn’t seem important to you, but just be patient with them, they’re worth it.

Leo: Simultaneously the most self-absorbed and caring people; Lucious locks; So intimidating, but it’s all a big, fat lie if you’re friends; Would kill for you; Childish and immature; Can actually be very practical minded; Really wants you to like them, but they’re not going to try hard for your approval; Let them have the last word because they’re going to have it eventually.

Virgo: Sad eyes that know the dark secrets of the world; They don’t feel in control, yet they try to be; Organized and methodical; Outwardly cynical (but they secretly hope for the best); If you meet their standards, consider yourself lucky; Big sister who will always help you with your problems; Feels most comfortable in a dark movie theater; Listen to them because they know what they’re talking about; Surprisingly patient.

Libra: They have a story for everything; Loves to go out with their loved ones; They spend a lot of time thinking over ideas and concepts; DILF; Lifelong friend that you can always turn to; Confidence booster; Can be surprisingly selfish sometimes; Indecisive as fuck; They’re going to win you over before you even realise it; Silently judgemental, but this doesn’t mean they take sides.

Scorpio: 10/10 would bang; Could destroy you effortlessly; Lifelong struggle bus ticket holder; Romantic love is not their strong suit; Darkly magnetic; Shared looks and inside jokes will be abundant when you hang out; Do not fuck with their friends; I repeat: do not fuck with their friends; seriously; avoid this at all costs; These are the type of people who will burn your house down and steal your boyfriend; If you fuck them over, they will cut ties forever, even if they still love you.

Sagittarius: They’re best friend material; Lots and lots of friends but few close friends; Attractive/ Magnetic; You’re going to find yourself thinking about them later; Can go literally anywhere and fit in; Histrionic; Will not put up with your bullshit at all; They seem like an open book, but this is not the case at all; Take themselves a little too seriously; More loyal than you could ask for.

Capricorn: Sassy as hell; Sarcasm actually flows through their veins; You will admire them; Always seemingly stable; They have the soundest advice; Tend to think they’re always right, and they aren’t exactly wrong about that; If they love you, it’s true; Good listeners and friends; Grouchy is their default emotion; Lowkey SUPER competitive, just let them win because they will literally never let it go ever.

Aquarius: You will fall in love with them, even if it doesn’t last; They’re going to make you laugh; They try to be forgiving creatures; Lowkey super stubborn about things they believe to be right; Really, really good at one area of expertise; Detail oriented; They downplay their emotions; It’s hard to completely understand what they’re thinking about unless they explicitly tell you; Trust their gut because they’re going to be right.

Pisces: Hug them, please, they’ll really appreciate it; They’re probably going to fall in love with you, too; Trusting and trustworthy; Watch what you say around them because they’re very sensitive; Encourage them to trust their intuition more; They’ll be able to understand your feelings more deeply than any of the other signs; Insecure but so, so, so worthy; Would die for you; Sneaky; Need a favor? Call this babe.

“are you a boy or a girl?”
 
  i am stardust kissing the atmosphere with millions of light years held inside of me, millions of stories and histories you could not even begin to dream of
  i am fire, flames so bright you melt in my presence, i ignite myself with the gasoline of your hatred and fear and misunderstanding, and i will burn down this town
  i am the flowing of river, currents rushing, never stopping; i am the unnamed ocean you wouldn’t dare to place a toe in; i am the serene lake, so beautiful to look at but so toxic beneath the surface; i am a puddle after the rain, created effortlessly by mother nature; i am the rain, you’ll never know if i am just going to be a drizzle or if i am going to bring the storm
  i am a fun house mirror, distorted by societal expectation, ugly to the naked eye, but inside i am still me, and nothing can change that
  i am
  i am so much more than you could even begin to understand
  and yet,
  you dare to suggest that all that i am can be summed up by your binary
—  are you a boy or a girl?
(cc, 2017)
TOP eras as i see them with synesthetia

self-titled era: shaking hands. old keyboards. friends that talk behind your back. the feeling you get after staying up too late. being sleepy all day but suddenly feeling awake at night. recovery. reaching the end of a tunnel. slowly lifting your head. realizing you can make a better life for yourself. drawing on your skin. burning old photos. abandoned theme parks. art shows. swimming pools.

RAB era: baseball fields. skinned knees. falling down after running really fast. collapsing at the end of a sports match. rained out events. resting in the shade on a hot day. shaved heads. summertime. the last few weeks of school. only leaving your house if you feel that that day is going to be important. sudden bursts of inspiration. finding creativity you never knew before. worrying about everything. the lump in your throat after you’re trying not to cry. things building up. unspoken words. dogs. hiking. cleats. 

Vessel: sudden fellowship with others. finally reaching out to your friends. the cold rush of air on your face when a door opens. raising your arms towards the sky. finally getting counseling. screaming, but not knowing why. night terrors. pine trees. a feeling of being lost. lonely in a room of people. soda. carbonated water. pink and yellow and red and gray. smiling over sadness. anxiety. butterflies in your stomach. the smile you get when you begin to realize everything will be alright. 

Blurryface: realizing that your friends have helped you, but now is the part of the battle you must fight on your own. blasting music in the car. summer days. hot pavement. empty rooms. moving houses. shouting just to hear an echo. late nights driving. nightmares. graffiti. sirens. doing bad things, but desperately wishing you could do good. doing good but can’t stop thinking about bad things. fighting against the darkness that no one else can see. cracks in the ceiling. basements. spaces where you don’t feel quite real. falling into bed after a long day. the final great battle before the end of the war.

Wait, what?

(based on this) (look, there’s a part two)


Yuuri barely has time to grab his jacket when he runs out the door, much less brush his hair or find a hat. Unfortunately, he’s sure that that means that his hair is an absolute mess. It’s been getting long again, but in between classes and helping Yura out with his routine on the weekends, he hasn’t had much time for things like haircuts. Besides, Victor doesn’t seem to mind it, and Yura likes to experiment hairstyles on Yuuri “so that if it looks stupid, I don’t have to see it on myself.”

It’s not that big a deal, except on days like this, when he sleeps in (thanks a lot Vitya) and doesn’t have the time to really get it under control. He usually meets up with his friends before class, and he doesn’t doubt that they’ll notice, and probably tease him about it.

They notice.

“Yuuri!” Estephania gasps, sounding too scandalized for her words to be anything but teasing. “What on earth happened to your hair?”

Yuuri flushes. “I was running late,” he mumbles.

Richard snorts. “You sure? Because that looks more like sex hair to me, man.”

“Ooh, he’s right,” Estephania coos before Yuuri can protest.

He wonders if it’s possible to die of embarrassment (especially since they’re not entirely wrong). “No, really I–”

“We know, sweetie.” She reaches up and moves his hair around a bit, trying to make it look presentable. “You’re just too easy to tease.”

“You sure you’re really twenty seven?” Richard raises an eyebrow.

Yuuri just smiles at the ground in fond humiliation (apparently it’s not a common emotion, but it’s a little hard not to be used to the feeling when he’s married to the world’s biggest drama queen) and nods. “I am.”

His friends are too much sometimes, he admits. Richard is the embodiment of America in a lot of ways: loud, completely lacking a sense of social norms, a walking personification of testosterone. Estephania is less… everything… than Richard, but she’s very touchy and affectionate in an entirely platonic way that reminds Yuuri a lot of Christophe, only without all of the innuendo. But they’re both loyal down to their very core, and they’re not bad people.

His phone starts ringing, Stammi Vicino playing loudly. Yuuri picks up, keeping his phone away from Estephania’s hands. “Да, Vitya?”

“Dude! You speak Russian too?” Richard looks like Yuuri just smacked him in the face. The school year just started, so they’re all still learning about each other.

Yuuri just smiles, since Victor is in the middle of one of his usual mid-morning crises. “Vitya, calm down,” he says in Russian. “Makkachin is probably out with Yura. You know he takes her for walks sometimes. Have you seen him today?”

He manages to get Victor off the phone just before class starts, flipping his phone to airplane mode since he’s sure that this isn’t the last he’ll be hearing from his lovable trainwreck of a husband.



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"A LETTER TO MY TEENAGE SELF" by SOLANGE KNOWLES

there will be fear. a lot of it. there will be triumph. a lot of it. there will be constellations you want to reach for but can’t put your finger on. you will trace them like the scars on your body you got from trouble and the times of your life. you will take the long way to get to these Orions. the long way will become a theme in your life, but a journey you learn to love.

you will dive head first without looking into phases that you are certain of who you are.
some of these stages include:

  • the dance-is-life (aka “this leotard is my second skin”) phase.
  • the Bible-thumping-church-camp phase.
    (which coincided and contradicted with the Fiona-Apple-fan-club-president phase)
  • the Nas aficionado-brown-lip-liner-and-Vaseline phase.
  • the Rasta-vegan-thrifter-who-is-determined-to-marry-Brandon-Boyd phase.
  • the football-player’s-girlfriend-who-wears-braided-blond-highlights-and-swears-by-capri-pants phase.

at the time, you are searching. seeking in every corner and pocket of the world for who you are. take your time, baby girl. there’s no rush to get there. you will sow each of these chapters in the land that you become. you will see bits and pieces of them scattered into the skin you grow into. you don’t have to figure everything out now. time will reveal itself. i promise you.

sometimes you push these phases to the max, and when you go out into the world feeling confident in who you are and what you reflect, young folks will call you names and grown folks will call you names. It’s ok. one day you will name yourself, and that name will belong to you. it will not be the ones they ordained: “crazy, ugly, attention-seeking, weirdo.”

i really hate to tell you this, but sometimes you will still get called these things as an adult, except you will actually embrace some of them. you will learn that these are just words. words that only have power if you choose to give them power. every once in a while they will hurt, but you will choose to turn those words into a symbol of beauty.

speaking of words. they might just be your first love. sometimes you can write for hours, just you and the words on the pages. they make you feel understood, even if it’s just you that you’re talking to.

trust in these words, even when you’re feeling wildly insecure. hold on to your journals. cherish them. put them somewhere safe so that they may become a guide for you later, a revealer and a friend.

the lucky stars have been good to you, and there’s a long list of things you’d like to give gratitude to them for, but for now thank them for these three:

  • that you didn’t die when you and your friends drove up a steep mountain in a snowstorm with no experience and bad brakes. that was stupid as hell.
  • that you went to the ensemble theater every summer. i really don’t think you’d be who you are today had it not been for those experiences, teachers, and experimentation with your mind and body.
  • that the universe chose your mom to be your mother.

she is a wonder. you watch her drop off 3 kids at 3 different schools in the morning, pick them up in the afternoon, shuffle each of them to their designated activities, and bring them all back to the salon she owns until she closes up with the utmost grace, love, and kindness.

you realize watching a woman balance being a supportive mother, building a successful business from the ground up that was started in her garage, and giving back to the community will make you feel invincible and like the word “no” is just an echo in the universe that you’ll never know. you often take her for granted, but you know with every joint in your bones that she is a phenomenon and you strive to make her proud. you should thank her out loud more, too; tell her you value her. roll your eyes and your neck less. it’s not as cute as you think. tell her you appreciate all that she does, for she makes the impossible look effortless. she surrounds you with other black women who do the same. you study them, and will constantly think of all their stories, their beauty, their strife and their stride. they break down all of the archetypes and stereotypes that you see of black women on tv and in magazines, so you don’t trust those anymore. you thank them for re-writing the script before it was ever etched in your memory.

because you have your mama’s blood, you are fiercely independent and outgoing. you’ve been starting petitions, building tree houses, and starting clubs since as long as you can remember.

sometimes in the midst of juggling all this, you put a lot of pressure on yourself and often crash and burn. you shut down. you go into your room, lock the door, put on music, and you do not move for 8 hours straight. it will feel like the heaviest and bleakest darkness you can possibly feel, and when you ask everyone to leave you alone and let you be, what you really want to say is “i want you here” and “i need help.”

sometimes it is ok to say just that. it won’t make you less strong or less powerful. no one you love will criticize you or blame you; in fact, they will lift you up.

seventeen will be the hardest year of your life. it will grow you up almost immediately. you will lose your best friend whom you love so much to gun violence in a single moment, and give birth to a new one within a year.

you will be terrified, and it’s ok that you don’t know what the future holds. some people will count you out because of the decision you’ve made to bring another life into the world so young, but you made the decision out of love and will live with the decision in love.

soon enough you will learn how to love and how to exist with love in ways that you never knew. you will learn how to love yourself and how to empathize with and forgive those who may have taken a bit of that pure love away from you.

you have a long life ahead of you, and i’ll tell you it’s not gonna always be easy, but I can promise you it will be fruitful and with much purpose. all the bridges you’ve burned, you had to, so that you could rebuild them to become a stronger and more wonderful you.

there will be pain, there will be doubt there will be beauty, there will be the unknown. there will be so many moments of joy and delight that the whole universe will feel painted in hues of amber and wonder. there will be times you are so sad you can’t lift your head. and there will be times you are so happy that the sensation of life knocks you down. but most importantly, there will be you. a whole, whole lot of it. and you will feel good about who she is and who she is still becoming.

My 11 year old brother reacts to Hamilton (act 2)
  • What'd I Miss: "is Thomas Jefferson gay? (Me: no, but Laurens gay and Hamilton is bi)"
  • Cabinet Battle #1: "MORE ROASTING!"
  • Take A Break: "I wanna learn how to play piano and speak French.."
  • Say No To This: "WHOOP! THERE GOES MY INNOCENCE! STRAIGHT OUT THE WINDOW!"
  • The Room Where It Happens: "I don't like Burr anymore, he sounds like a jealous 5 year old"
  • Schuyler Defeated: "and Hamilton sounds like a mad 5 year old"
  • One Last Time: "Bye bye!"
  • I Know Him: "oh hey! GAY KING IS BACK! (Me: not everyone is gay...)"
  • The Adams Administration: "why are you letting me listen to a musical about a raging 5 year old?"
  • We Know: "ooh snap! Hamiltons busted!"
  • Hurricane: "Damn, he's got it rough!"
  • The Reynolds Pamphlet: "goodbye Eliza and Hamiltons love life, hello Lams! (Me: YESSSSSSS)"
  • Burn: "did Eliza burn their house down too?"
  • Blow Us All Away: "since when is Philip 19?"
  • Stay Alive (reprise): "sorry, who died, I stopped Listening."
  • It's Quiet Uptown: ooooohh, Philip is dead. R.I.P"
  • The Election of 1800: "Philip just died, and now everyone's happy??"
  • Your Obedient Servant: "the mad 5 year olds are back."
  • Best of Wives and Best of Women: "go back to sleep!"
  • The World Was Wide Enough: "yep, Burr is definitely mad and jealous.."
  • Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story: "it's over??"
Second chance

(A/N): I just really needed Bucky fluff so

Summary: (Y/N) gives Bucky a home, a family, love, a second chance.

Warnings: fluff

Tags: @mcuimxgine, @ifoundlove-x0vanessa0x, @saradi1018, @holland-toms, @superwholockian309, @fly-f0rever, @capbuckthor, @livandlilah, @callmeoncette


Originally posted by veestronger

   Bucky winces as the front door creaked; he’d have to change the hinges soon. The floor boards ached underneath his boots, making awful creaking noises with each step. Goddamit, he was trying to be quiet for fucks sake and his 7,000 year old house was making that nearly impossible.

   “You’re back early,” Bucky looks up from the old wooden floor to look upon his wife, standing at the foot of their stairs with a robe wrappedaround her body. Bucky can’t help but smile as he lowers his bag to the ground, immediately enveloping (Y/N) into a tight hug.

   “Mission went off without a hitch,”

   “Mmhh, that’s good,” (Y/N) hums softly as she runs her fingers through Bucky’s sweat matted hair. “No bruises, cuts, broken bones?”

   “My leg has a small scratch, nothing to be too worried about,” (Y/N) releases Bucky from their hug instead taking his hands as she quietly led him up the stairs, stopping when the floorboards would creak gently. It took a few minutes but (Y/N) finally got them up the stairs and into their shared bedroom.

   (Y/N) immediately drags Bucky to their bathroom, gingerly forcing him down onto the side of their bathtub, a vintage claw foot that Bucky spent years trying to install.

   “Clothes off,” (Y/N) states matter of factly as she reaches under their sink, grabbing the first aid kit she always had on hand.

   “(Y/N), it’s really nothin’ to worry about doll, just a little scratch-”

   “Don’t make me tell you again Mr. Barnes,” (Y/N) clucked her tongue at him, smiling just a bit. Bucky smiled as he unbuttoned his vest, letting it droop to the floor as he began worming his boots and pants off. Before his pants were even off his leg (Y/N) pounced upon him, inspecting his wound thoroughly as though she were some kind of surgeon. She might as well have been a surgeon given how often she was stitching Bucky up, making him feel better and okay.

   “I don’t think it’s going to need any stitches- this time,” (Y/N) adds the last part with a soft smile. “Probably just some cleaning and a bandage.”

   “See, what did I tell you-”

   “But you need a shower, you smell horrible,” Bucky chuckles gingerly as he shakes his head, still being mindful enough to be quiet.

   “Only if you join me,” (Y/N) smiles softly, chuckling herself.

   “I have to go make breakfast soon-”

  “We’ll help each other, promise,”

   “James Buchanan Barnes, the last time you tried to cook in my kitchen you nearly burned our entire house down,”

   “Yeah, but then we got to renovate, remember how fun that was?”

   “I remember you nailing your hand to a piece wood, that’s for sure,” (Y/N) chuckles again, shaking her head fondly at the memory.

   “Well, I have experience now and I promise I won’t burn our kitchen down,” Bucky smiles softly, his eyes twinkling with a warm sort of fondness for his wife. “Please join me?”

   “Fine, but only because you asked so nicely,” (Y/N) slides off her robe as Bucky turns their tub on, letting it fill up with warm water before he and (Y/N) clambered In.

   Bucky looks back as (Y/N) slides her bra off, leaving her completely vulnerable to his gaze. It felt like Bucky’s breath had been taken away; it didn’t matter how many times he looked at (Y/N), every time he did it felt like the first, every single time.

   “You’re gorgeous,” Bucky whispers as he settles his hands on (Y/N)’s waist as his gaze rakes up and down her body, taking every chunk of her in. “So gorgeous,” Bucky leans forward, pressing a series of kisses along (Y/N)’s hips, stomach, and sternum. Her breath hitches in the back of her throat and her hands immediately fly to his hair, gripping it gently.

   “Bucky, bath first, sex after breakfast,” Bucky smiles as he pulls back, looking up at (Y/N) adoringly.

   “You’re no fun,”

   “Get in the tub you loser,” (Y/N) chuckles as they give his shoulder a gentle tap, before she clambers into the tub, taking up almost half the thing.

   “God, we need a new tub,” Bucky mutters as he slides in, right between (Y/N)’s legs.

   “And you’re not installing it,” (Y/N) presses a gentle kiss to his forehead as she grabs his shampoo bottle, flipping the cap open and squirting some onto her palm.

   “Why not?” Bucky pouts adorably as (Y/N) uses her free hand to work some water into his hair.

   “I don’t need to remind you of what happened the last time you tried to install something,” (Y/N) chuckles as she works the water into his hair, soaking it before working the shampoo in. Bucky hums in delight, sighing as he relaxes against (Y/N)’s body.

   “It was my first time, I can do it so well now-”

   “Bucky,” (Y/N) title his head up enough that she can lean down to press a kiss to his lips. “No more repairs or installations for you, we’ll get a contractor to come out and help,”

   “What the hell kind of contractor is going to come all the way out here?”

   “Bucky, stop squirming or you’re going to get shampoo in your eyes,” (Y/N) chuckles as she fondly strokes her husband’s scruffy cheek, just a barely there touch that she knew he enjoyed so much.

   Bucky settles down, enough for (Y/N) to wash his hair, condition it, and manage to cover some parts of his body in soap.

   “And I’m sure uncle Clint wouldn’t mind coming in to help fix the tub,”

   “You’d pick Clint over me?” Bucky looks almost appalled as he looks up at (Y/N), his eyes narrowed and mouth open. (Y/N) smirks as she hands the soap over to Bucky, smacking the soapy bar into his outstretched hand.

   “Mhm, yes I would,”

   “I’m offended,” Bucky mutters as he washes all the parts (Y/N) wasn’t able to get, namely anything past his pecs.

   “Boohoo,” (Y/N) chuckles as Bucky begins to work on his legs, having to sling one of them over the edge of the tub to clean it. “I’ll make it up to you later,”

   “Yeah,” Bucky grumbles as he works on the other leg. “I’m sure you will,” (Y/N) smiles as she tilts her head, just enough to kiss the side of Bucky’s head.

   “How about waffles for breakfast and me for dessert?” Bucky hums as he sets the soap down, tilting his head up to smile at (Y/N).

   “That sounds heavenly,”

   “Well let’s get going then Big guy,” (Y/N) chuckles softly as Bucky clambers out of the tub, grabbing a towel for himself and two for (Y/N).

   “Thank you,” (Y/N) gets on her tiptoes to press a kiss to Bucky’s lips before quickly pulling away again. “You’re running out of clothes to wear,” (Y/N) comments as she throws him a pair of boxers and loose sweats. “We’ll have to go shopping soon,” Bucky Hums as he gets dressed, sliding his clothing on as he watched (Y/N). God- he could just look at her all day. She was beautiful in his eyes, any little imperfection that she hated Bucky loved, any stretch mark or unwanted mole, any “fat” that she claimed to have he loved it.

   Bucky can’t help but wrap his hands around (Y/N)’s waist as she slips a shirt on, letting it bunch around his arms.

   “I missed you,” Bucky whispers as he nuzzles his face into the crook of her neck. “I missed this,” (Y/N) sighs as she settles her arms over his, grasping his hands gently and giving them a gentle squeeze.

   “I missed you too…how long will you be staying this time?”

   “Whenever Fury calls me back,” Bucky presses his lips to (Y/N)’s neck, giving her a series of open mouthed kisses. (Y/N) hums pleasurably, tilting her head to the side a bit to give Bucky better access.

   “We miss you,” (Y/N) whispers, stopping Bucky dead in his tracks. We. (Y/N) and their children; their children. Sometimes Bucky forgot he had a life here, a loving wife, three amazing kids, he was so caught up with Shield and missions and hydra that he forgot that he was past that part of his life; he didn’t have to worry about hydra, shield and missions weren’t his day and night anymore but (Y/N) was, his family was.

   “I know baby,” Bucky sighs as he breaks away, rubbing at his forehead as he does. “I need to resign, I need to do something-”

   “Don’t do anything you don’t want to do, I don’t want you to feel like you have to give up shield for us-”

   “But I want to,” Bucky hangs his head, sighing once again. “I want to leave that chapter of my life behind. It’s like I’m stuck on the same damn page twenty four seven and I hate it. You guys are my new chapter, I just need to stop going back and rereading the last ones…” (Y/N) smiles softly as she reaches out, holding Bucky gently.

   “Then take a break, stay at home, learn how to cook, fix our tub and walls-”

   “I thought you said no more renovations for me?” Bucky smiles just a bit, one quirk of his lip is all.

   “Mh, I’ve changed my mind, plus if you’re going to be here all the time you’re going to need to learn how to do some work,” Bucky chuckles as he holds (Y/N), a sweetly almost earthy sound filling the air.

   “You’re rude to me,”

   “Yeah I am,” (Y/N) smiles as she gently kisses Bucky’s bare chest. “And you love me for it,” (Y/N) pulls away, taking Bucky by the hand as she gently guides him down the stairs and into their kitchen.

   “Yeah, unfortunately I do,” (Y/N) gasps, feigning hurt as she clutches at her heart.

   “I’m hurt, wounded,” Bucky chuckles as he wraps his arms back around (Y/N)’s waist, smiling as he squeezed them gently. “No, stop, I’m mad at you,” (Y/N) laughs as Bucky nuzzles his scruffy face in the crook of her neck, tickling her gently. “Bucky, stop, we have to make breakfast!” (Y/N) whispers harshly to the soldier but her smile betrayed her tone.

   “If you keep yellin’ like that you’re gonna wake the kids up,”

   “Yeah, and it’ll be your fault-” (Y/N) smiles as she waddles towards their fridge, dragging Bucky with her as he refused to let go of her waist. “I thought you said you were helping,” (Y/N) smirks as she reaches for the milk and eggs, holding them both in one hand while the other retrieved a small pack of bacon.

   “I am,” Bucky chuckles as he grips (Y/N)’s hips gently.

   “Then get me some flour and salt,” Bucky smiles as he presses a kiss to (Y/N)’s cheek before sauntering off to retrieve all the necessary items for waffles.

   Bucky’s hand stalls as he reaches for a bag of sugar- He stared at the metal plating, stained with years of wear and tear, bodily fluids, and plenty of chalk and paint from both Steve and his children. It didn’t seem like too long ago when he’d used that same hand to choke innocent victims, it didn’t seem like years ago when one day a certain woman came up to him, held his hand, and begged him to help her. That’s how he had met (Y/N). She was being followed by a few shady men and she came to Bucky’s side for comfort. She didn’t even know him, he looked like an ex con for fucks sake and yet she still took his hand and begged for help. He remembered looking into those shining eyes of hers and feeling his heart clench as he was met with a fearful gaze. She begged him to pretend to be her boyfriend, which he gladly did.

   They had walked around, stopped at a cafe, talked, and eventually stopped at Central Park. Bucky was having such a fantastic time that he didn’t even notice when the men stopped following the two of them, and apparently so did (Y/N).

   “They stopped,” (Y/N) had whispered as she looked around the park. “Oh my god, thank you so much Bucky, thank you so, so, so much. How can I repay you?”

   “How about a real date, one where we don’t have to worry about men following us around?” Bucky knew it was a long shot, he was the infamous winter soldier after all, there was no way (Y/N) would ever agree-

   “I’d love that,” (Y/N) had whispered, giving his hand a good squeeze. It was in that moment Bucky realized for the first time in forever he wasn’t scared. He wasn’t afraid he was going to hurt (Y/N), he wasn’t afraid that hydra was lurking around the corner, he wasn’t afraid of what the next mission would be, for once he could finally just be.

   “Buck, I need that sugar,” (Y/N) smiled tenderly at Bucky as she held a whisk in her hand, parts of it dripping in thick batter.

   Bucky clears his throat as he reaches for the sugar, snatching it up before handing it to (Y/N).

   (Y/N) had given him a second chance. He had been a broken shell, something of the man he once used to be but when (Y/N) showed up the pieces slowly started to fall back into place. He didn’t feel so scared anymore, he slowly adopted the old Bucky Barnes back into his life, the fun, playful, loving one that everyone had missed so much. (Y/N) had given him a second chance at life.

   “Daddy!” Three high pitched voices break him away from his thoughts. Three pairs of feet hit the hardwood as Bucky’s kids come barreling after him; Elizabeth, Collin, and Ben. Ben and Collin were his first two kids, twins, and Elizabeth was the youngest, daddy’s princess.

   All three kids latch onto Bucky immediately, shouting happily as they climb all over him. Bucky laughs as he picks up Elizabeth and Ben, letting Collin climb (more like Jump) up onto his back.

   “Yeah, yeah, daddy missed you too you goofballs,”

   “Daddy, I drew you a bunch of pictures!” Elizabeth cries happily, pointing to the fridge with a small finger. Bucky looks surprised as he looks at them, smiling widely when Elizabeth giggles.

   “They’re beautiful baby,”

   “Daddy! I finally hit our baseball into that meadow!”

   “Did you now?” Bucky looks at Ben, who was looking up at his father adoringly.

   “Oh yes he did, he went in to retrieve it and I couldn’t find him for half an hour,” Bucky laughs as (Y/N) continues to whisk and fold the batter.

   “And Collin,” Bucky tilted his head backwards, smiling at his son. “What have you been up to Buddy?”

   “Mommy’s been teaching me how to read big boy books!”

   “Like what?”

   “Harry- Harry-”

   “Harry potter?”

   “Yes!” Colin smiles excitedly.

  “That’s so cool!”

  “Yeah!” Collin nods as he wraps his arms around Bucky’s head, making it impossible to see anything.

   “Kids, why don’t you go play on the swing and daddy will come play once breakfast is almost done?” The children squeal happily as they jump off Bucky, rushing to the back door and out into their endless backyard.

   Bucky smiles fondly as he watches them scurry off, his heart clenching just a bit. Years ago he never would have believe he’d settle down, get married, have a family, he had been too dangerous for that but here he was, making breakfast for his wife and children and in his own home too, not some tower or sanctuary, his own home with rooms and a kitchen and a backyard.

   Bucky can feel the tears burn at his eyes but he ignores them for now. Instead he wraps his arms around (Y/N) once again as his lips find purchase on her temple.

   “Thank you,” Bucky whispers hoarsely, making it obvious he was on the verge of tears. (Y/N) immediately looks at him, her beautiful eyes shrouded in worry.

   “What for?” Bucky smiles gently as he rubs his nose against (Y/N)’s, inhaling her comforting scent deeply.

   “For giving me a second chance,”

  • Ryuji: So I can either bake these cookies at 400 degrees for 10 minutes or 4,000 degrees for 1 minute.
  • Haru: Ryuji nO THAT’S NOT HOW YOU BAKE COOKIES.
  • Ryuji: FLOOR IT?
  • Haru: RYUJI NO
  • Ryuji: HOW ABOUT 4,000,000 DEGREES FOR 1 SECOND
  • Haru: RYUJI YOU ARE GOING TO BURN YOUR HOUSE DOWN
  • Ryuji: I’M GOING TO HARNESS THE FUCKING SUN TO MAKE COOKIES
  • Haru: RYUJI P L E A S E
Paranoia | M

“Does it look like I want to be stuck with you for the rest of my life?”

Précis; Because waking up beside the one you have always despised isn’t something that you thought would ever actually happen.

Note: Since this post was eaten awhile back, I had to rewrite it..good thing my memory is A1 lol. *whispers* this is hella revamped so if you read it before..it’s 85% different | Words ➳ 11k

Genre & Warnings: Fluff, humor and minor angst. O h, & light smut. ((: {ft. Jungkook} | enemies to lovers au

➳ paranoia ; suspicion and mistrust of people or their actions without evidence and justification.


It was the tinkling of ice that rummaged within your glass of liquor that you debated whether to drink the contents and regret it the day after or to deny the free offer the bartender had given you; to try their new bottle they had promptly started to sell within the specific bar. Your eyes narrowed towards the softly fizzing contents inside your glass, scrutinizing the bubbles as they dispersed after floating about the liquid for more than a few seconds — having wasted their purpose as they popped small amounts of gas within the air. You were so entranced, giving yourself thousands of reasons why drinking at that moment shouldn’t even be debatable to notice the bartender laugh under his breath.

“It’s not going to kill you, you know.” He said, shaking a blender cup before he started to pour someone else a glass of alcohol.

You pursed your lips, glancing to your phone hoping you would receive a text back but to your dismay, you had received nothing. “It may not kill me,” you started while you softly flicked the glass with your finger as the crushed ice began to dance with one another, “but it will ruin my life.”

He hummed, resting his elbow on the counter and towards your sober state of mind, sliding the cup a little closer to you. “But it may also give you something to live for.”

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Hermione: I don’t understand it. How did Al manage to burn the ceiling?

Ginny: I don’t even know.

Harry: He said he was trying to bake cookies.

Ron: I bet you it was Malfoy’s boy’s fault.

(Earlier that day)

Albus: Okay, so I can either bake these cookies at 400 degrees for 10 minutes or 4,000 degrees for 1 minute.

Scorpius: Al nO THAT’S NOT HOW YOU BAKE COOKIES!

Albus: FLOOR IT?

Scorpius: AL NO!

Albus: HOW ABOUT 4,000,000 DEGREES FOR 1 SECOND

Scorpius: ALBUS YOU ARE GOING TO BURN YOUR HOUSE DOWN

Albus: I’M GOING TO HARNESS THE FUCKING SUN TO MAKE COOKIES

Scorpius: ALBUS P L E A S E

(Present)

Harry: I honestly wouldn’t be surprised.

pastelynch  asked:

Hi!! if you are still doing prompts: Neil overworking himself and blowing out his arms again? and Andrew comforting him? i'm jumping on the angst train. Also i love your writing! it's so nice to read :)

(thank you darlin, sorry it took a while!)

Neil’s vision judders a little bit, like exhaustion is picking him up and shaking him. He can feel the sharp sting of sweat in his eyes and the open wound of his lungs, and the net looks farther away every time he blinks.

“Again,” Kevin calls. “But without your form crumpling in on itself.”

Neil grits his teeth. “I don’t see the point,” he says for the dozenth time. Kevin’s getting him to run drills with his left hand, and missing easy targets is starting to run cold and tedious. It’s a lesson in humility, maybe. Some sort of sociopathic vindication on Kevin’s part.

“You’re only half an athlete,” Kevin replies firmly. “Half your potential is squandered every time you hit the top of whatever box you’ve put yourself in and just accept it.”

Neil twirls his racquet and tosses it from one hand to another. He doesn’t like the weight of it in his wrong hand. His left bicep is screaming at being used so much, and his stronger arm is twitching jealously. He feels like he’s trying to talk without his tongue for no reason.

“If I’m using the wrong arm I’m just making myself a smaller box,” Neil argues. “It’s not necessary. Just because you have a handicap doesn’t mean you should impose it on everyone else.”

Kevin stiffens in the goal, and Neil can see his fingers spasming from halfway across the court.

“Fine. Limit yourself. You’ve never used even a fraction of your potential.”

“Then teach me,” Neil challenges. “Stop trying to prove something about your own versatility and help me hone my strengths. Or do you want to lose, next month?”

Kevin drops his racquet and it makes a wrenching clatter. “I’m going to win. If you’re not going to put in the effort then you can teach yourself.” He collects his fallen equipment on his way out of the court, the tendons in his neck straining the whole time. Neil looks back out towards the outer court where Andrew is watching, sprawled backwards on his hands with his head cocked.

Kevin meets up with him and jabs one hand back towards Neil, speaking in intense sentences punctuated by backwards looks. Andrew accepts whatever he’s saying by refusing to react, his face a perfect balance. Neil tries to watch the shape of their mouths but he can only see Andrew properly, and he’s not talking.

After thirty seconds of one-sided bitching Kevin makes a production of stalking off, and Andrew quietly follows behind. Something annoyed throbs in Neil’s stomach. He foolishly expected Andrew to come and confront him instead, maybe even end up taking his side.

He tightens his grip on his racquet and seethes in frustration, testing his left grip then right, left then right, until the difference feels too huge to be real, an uncrossable gulf.

He remembers detachedly when his now preferred racquet felt impossibly heavy. He remembers when he would rather have seen Andrew gone from the team than in his bed.

He looks back at the bucket of balls and the empty court, and everything tightens up: the muscles in his left arm, the walls of the court, that uncrossable gulf. Ichirou’s warning — the barbed wire around his heart —tightens too.

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henry to ronan: so there are gay stories online with existing fictional characters, ppl write them because they want to see representation and explore stories professional creators won’t and also because it’s hot and fun. here take a look

ao3 user chainsawdad666 later that night on a the fast and the furious fanfiction tagged slow burn: i hate this story when are they going to fucking kiss this is homophobic tell me your address im going to burn your house down i’ll show you a fucking SLOW BURN

The Arrangement (Epilogue 2)

Originally posted by o-ta-ria

Summary: Not telling, don’t wanna spoil anything, just keep reeeaading

Pairing: AU!Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2,600

Warnings: teeth-rotting fluff, implied smut

A/N: Here we are, kiddos. Ask and you shall receive… the demand was so high and I love this series so much that I just can’t let it go. Not that I think any of you will be upset by this news… ENJOY

Find the rest of the series HERE and my mobile masterlist HERE

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Ashes Pt. 7 [M]

Genre: Angst, Smut, Vampire!AU

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader

Length: 5.6k

Warnings: Depictions of violence and gore

Originally posted by fairybcby

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Final

“I don’t want to go downstairs. I don’t want to be social. I just want to lay here with you.” You whined as Hoseok started to straighten himself up. As he shifted you noticed the glint of something gold hanging from his neck.

You sat up, reaching for this neck and he looked at you in confusion. You took the pendant in your hand and thumbed your fingers around the edges. It was a golden sun. And you wondered how you had never seen it before. Even though you weren’t looking at him, you could feel Hoseok smiling at you, waiting for you to ask him about it.

“I never thought you would be a gold person.” You quipped as you set the pendant against his chest. You always thought gold was tacky, but somehow you didn’t mind the color when it was resting against Hoseok’s skin.

“Well, I can’t exactly wear silver.” he chuckled. “I’m not a masochist.”

You dropped your gaze, “Oh yeah, I forgot about that.”

Hoseok reached around his neck, pulling the chain off his body. “I want you to wear it.” He told you as he placed it around you. Your fingers clasping onto to it tight, “I hope it brings you luck.”

“I think we should get married” you spat out before you could stop yourself. Your cheeks getting as hot as a vampire’s cheeks could.

He sighed, running a finger along your collarbone, “We can’t legally get married, Y/N.”

You shook your head, “I don’t care. We’ll make Yoongi be the minister or whatever they’re called.”

“I would rather go back to hell.” You heard him shout from the house. You had forgotten that he had left the door open, leaving your conversation open to the public. “And if you two don’t get down here I’m going to drag you both out by your teeth.”

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Alright, I’ve been thinking. When life gives you lemons? Don’t make lemonade. Make life take the lemons back! Get mad! I don’t want your damn lemons! What am I supposed to do with these? Demand to see life’s manager! Make life rue the day it thought it could give Kaz Brekker lemons! Do you know who I am? I’m the man who’s going to burn your house down! With the lemons! I’m going to get Kuwei and Wylan to invent a combustible lemon that burns your house down!
—  Kaz
K A I R O S | 04 | (M)

 /ˈkīräs/

(n.) the perfect, delicate, crucial moment; the fleeting rightness of time and place that creates the opportune atmosphere for action, words, or movement

An arranged marriage AU.

Paring: OT7.
Genre: fluff, angst, a lot of suggestive parts and eventual smut.
Waring: Mature content
Word count: 6.7k
Author’s note: Tell me what yall think!! I’d love to know what’s going on in your minds guys.

Parts: | 1 | 2 | 3 …

“But mom, I’m not going to live with a bunch of strangers-!”

“I had the maids pack your things last night, your bags are outside.”

//

Cliche is underrated.

Especially when you just got kicked out of your own house by your ever so loving parents to stay with seven boys you’ve only heard notorious things about.

Oh, and you’re supposed to pick one to marry by the end of next month.

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Before the performance
  • Christine: break a leg, everybody!
  • Jake: you know what Christine? Fuck you. Fuck you and your overused saying about breaking my leg, because I already have. Infact, I broke both, so why don't you go and fuck yourself and break YOUR leg you insensitive bitch. I almost died because fucking asshole Rich went psychotic and burned down the house because he wanted Mountain Dew red, which probably doesn't exist, and here you are mocking me for breaking me legs. Go and fucking die