i actually don't know what's going on with my face there

I still don't know if he ever got his coffee.

I’m not 100% sure this even belongs here and I’ve posted this story elsewhere so some of you might have read it already.

Some background: I work in a rather specialized area of Forensics. Officially I’m employed by Police Scotland but they tend to let other law enforcement agencies, universities, etc borrow us from time to time. A lot of the time it’s for consulting work or guest lecturing but sometimes we’re sent to teach training courses.

About 18 months ago I was asked to lecture at a training course for some of the CID higher-ups in an English Police force. It was the first time I’d done anything like it and I was crapping myself.

I met with the conveners and other officials for dinner the night before my first day, and after dinner and drinks, I was dropped back at my hotel.

So to set the scene; it’s about 10pm, I’m all dressed up in my evening wear and I’m sitting at the bar in the hotel lounge. The place is dead, it’s just me and the barman so I’ve taken off my heels and am unraveling my hair having just ordered a hot chocolate. The barman asks if I want mini marshmallows on my hot chocolate. Yes, of course I want mini marshmallows on my hot chocolate. No I don’t mind waiting while you run to the kitchen.

So I’m sit there trying to trick my phone into connecting to the hotels WiFi when Angry Man walks in.

He stomped into the room and slammed his fist down on the bar about 3 ft from me and barked out one word:

“COFFEE”

I didn’t know it but apparently that attempt at communication was aimed at me; a fact I learned a moment later when Angry Man moved right up next to me, bent over me so his face was practically in mine and barked out again;

“COFFEE”.

In an attempt to get away from the screaming coffee man I slipped off the bar stool, putting it between the two of us. Extremely confused and more than a little terrified, it didn’t immediately occur to me that he thought I worked there, hell it wasn’t even registering that he wanted a coffee. He was just repeating it the same way a toddler does when they learn a new word but don’t entirely know what it means.

I’m going to blame the confusion, fear and tiredness for my completely moronic response, which was to parrot the word back at him.

Me: “Coffee?”

Angry Man: “COFFEE”

Then he slammed his fist down on the bar again. This time I noticed that he was actually throwing down money.

My brain suddenly came back online.

Me: “Oh. Eh, the barman should be back in a sec. H-”

Angry Man: “Get me a coffee. Now.”

Ooooh four new words. Progress.

Me: “I’m sorry, mate, I don’t work here.”

Angry man (shouting now) “You fucking lazy liar!! Do you think I’m fucking stupid?”

Yes, actually, but I’ll be keeping that to myself.

Angry Man: “Get off your fucking phone and get me a shitting coffee”

Me: “I really don’t-”

Cue rant about me being the only person in the lounge so of course I must work there and I was just being lazy and did I take him for an idiot. All while I’m slowly backing away from the bar so he can’t pin me between it and the bar stools. Then he throws in this:

Angry Man: “Do you have any idea who I am? Do you have any idea how important I am?”

I never got to find out how important this guy thought he was. Instead Angry Man’s Friend came wandering in.

He took one look at me; pretty much cornered by Angry Man who is now screaming about how he’ll make sure I never work again while I’m trying to calmly tell him to back off and he tries to intervene.

He took Angry Man by the shoulders and moved him back away from me while asking him what was going on.

Angry Man: “This stupid little whore is refusing to serve me”

Me: “I really don’t work here”

Angry Man’s Friend: “She doesn’t work here. Let’s just all try to calm down”

There was a few moments of Angry Man’s Friend trying to calm Angry Man while he ranted about getting me fired until two barman arrived, one of them with my hot chocolate. The presence of the three men distracted Angry Man enough for me to grab my shoes and escape with my chocolatey goodness.

As I left I could hear him demanding to speak to a manager.

The next day, after being introduced to a lecture theater full of high ranking CID Officers, I stood and walked to the podium only to be greeted by one guy in the audience laughing hysterically.

I just sort of froze trying to figure out the joke. Did I have food on my face? Was my shirt on inside out?

A quick check confirmed that, no. I’d managed to adult that morning.

A few other people began to chuckle as this guy struggled to get a hold of himself. As he regained control he pointed to his left.

Where a very red looking Angry Man was sitting.

I think it was the sheer relief that he wasn’t actually laughing at me that caused me to open my mouth and say to Angry Man;

“Oh did you get your coffee in the end?”

He walked out and I didn’t see him for the rest of the course.

anonymous asked:

"crazy detention stories"...go

They’re really not that crazy I don’t think but fine- but as I had detention at least once a week for 3 years you’re only getting the highlights here:

  • So again, I only ever got detentions because I was late to school basically every day. Every single day, the office wrote me a late slip with my name spelled horrendously wrong. Different spelling every day. The most famous butchering was writing my name as “Millie Hoagie”. On my very last day of high school, I was predictably late, and they spelled my name perfectly correctly.
  • So listen my ‘reputation’ in school was basically “quiet good girl who’s never done anything wrong, ever, in her life” and “teacher’s pet” and the like. And despite the fact I was there every time all the ‘Bad Kids™’ who were also always in detention were always incredibly surprised to see me??? Like they never got over it. Every time I walked into the damn room at least half the class would be like “MOLLY YOU DON’T BELONG HERE YOU’RE INNOCENT!!” 😂
  • Also despite the fact I was basically invisible in the school as a whole all the trouble makers knew me by name because, and I quote a kid from my 10th grade Spanish class who was trying to hook up with me at the time here, “Guys like me are afraid of you, Girl, we’re just plain out scared that we gonna corrupt you!” and I still don’t know what he actually meant by that???
  • Bu anyway, this apparent rep usually gave me an upper hand with the teachers monitoring the detentions. Because, you know, some were fine, some were bitchy, some were insane. But all of them were pissed about the fact they had to be there instead of heading home.
  • The rules of detention were literally just ‘stare at the wall and don’t talk’, depending on which teacher they might let the students do homework. But since I was apparently a great person and always had the class’ incredulous response to me being in the room, they usually let me get away with sleeping or reading a book lol.
  • Of course…no one said any of the other kids were inclined to following the rules lmao. These were like, all the class clowns™ shoved into one room. Things always got real funny real fast.
  • It would always start off with the coughing game. If you’ve ever stepped into a school you should know what that is.
  • It would then escalate to everyone in the room playing catch whenever the teacher looked away for a brief moment
  • Detention was always in the health classroom so someone always tried to steal a limb off the skeleton without being to obvious
  • Some teachers would let people talk ‘quietly’ so jokes were fucking abound
  • One time I was minding my own damn business and a kid slides me a note saying ‘in like five minutes ask to go to the bathroom but head downstairs to the English wing’ before he snuck out without the teacher noticing. I get down there and he’s at one end of the hallway and another boy is at the other end. Upon seeing me, these boys run full speed down the hall at each other, leap up in the air when they get to the direct center, high five with full force, both scream in pain, and then hit the floor, clutching their hands. I was cracking the fuck up and trying to convince them to go to the nurse but they wouldn’t listen. I asked the guy why the hell they did that. He told me ‘because we wanted a witness and no one will ever believe you’ 😂😂
  • One time my sorta-neighbor Mike comes in and the teacher asked why he had detention and apparently, the principal had asked him where to find his friend Jose, and Mike responded “he’s out picking cotton” and the principal flipped out at what he perceived to be a racist joke and gave him a month detention. But the thing was, Jose was in an agriculture class and he was literally outside picking cotton that they had planted there earlier. Jose found it fucking hilarious and refused to tell the principal to get his friend out of trouble.
  • As I haven’t been inside a school building for quite some time now I don’t know if turtling is still a thing but it was…quite an epidemic for my senior class.
  • It’s when you turn someone’s backpack inside out right? But it was a full blown war with these kids. Trust no one. Never leave the room. Never look away. Holy shit. One of the best moments of this occurred in detention, when a boy reached to get a book out of his backpack to find it was gone. After 15 minutes of searching the room, he found it, turtled, hidden in a filing cabinet in the front of the room. Everyone, including the teacher, was loosing their shit, because how did someone pull that off so quietly and invisibly without someone noticing??? No one fessed up. The class was in fear of the turtle ninja for the rest of the month, but they never struck again. No one ever discovered who it was.
  • Guys: It was me.
  • One time it was raining and the teacher was in a bad mood so he insisted all the windows stay open. He left for a bathroom break or something and this one poor kid, who was now completely soaked as he was stuck with a window seat, just said “fucking bye” and just…climbed out the damn window. Left his backpack and everything. Didn’t see him again for at least a month.
  • There was one guy who always sold ice cream out of his bag when the teachers weren’t looking. Where he was getting it from and how it stayed frozen is beyond me.
  • Oh my God sometimes all the indie singer kids would just come and sit on the floor outside the classroom and talk loudly to annoy us??? The hell were they trying to accomplish??? Your singing ain’t special and you won’t be famous, please let us die in peace.
  • One kid had detention because when we were running laps in gym class he jumped up to hit the arch of the ceiling and accidentally set off the fire alarm. The teacher that day insisted on continuously referring to him as ‘the delinquent’, as if no one else in the room had broken the rules or something
  • One time one of the gym teachers was in charge of it and long story short he started doing the jersey turnpike. True horror.
  • One time the teacher got a call and she had to go down to the office and the second she was gone this one kid’s friend runs in with a huge tray going “Y’ALL I STOLE THE LASAGNE CUPCAKES FROM THE FOOD AND NUTRITION CLASSROOM” and we dined like kings.
  • Everyone would sometimes just break out in song for no God damn reason
  • One time one of the guys in charge of the detention was A) Not someone anyone recognized as a teacher and B) Potentially Stanley Tucci. Like…I was about 80% certain that this guy was Stanley Tucci.
  • He refused to confirm or deny or even give a name
  • One time I was really absorbed in my book when all the sudden a letter flew onto my desk, an anonymous sender that just said “You have a soft, sexy voice.” Neither of which is true, I’m pretty sure, and I could not for the life of me figure out who sent it omfg
  • One time a teacher was freaking out because he went to a psychic over the weekend and was told there was a lot of activity around him so I looked him straight in the eyes and told him I’m a medium and I can see that the devil had marked his soul and he threw me out of the room and refused to take that class for detention ever again😂
  • It was a hot summers day. The ceiling fans were on their highest setting. A boy nudges me, with a small carton of ice cream in his hands under his desk. “What do you think would happen if I scooped out a huge chunk of this and threw it at the fan?” he whispered. “Jamil, no.” I pleaded, but it fell on deaf ears. Soon, the room was filled with confused screams.
  • Apparently all the other regulars™ had bought me candy grams around Christmas time so they were confused when I showed up to detention with no candy and apparently the student council member sent them all to the other Molly in the grade because she was the popular one and this lead to about 12 boys grumbling for two and a half hours like “The one damn time I attempt to be a gentleman” and “I know where she lives” and “Gonna gingerbread her fucking locker” I could not stop laughing
  • Oh God okay one time the teacher we had was literally. Off the charts.
  • Like there’s the chill teachers, and then the bitchy teachers. And then this lady. She literally reminded me of Stubel
  • So I didn’t even know who she was but I walk in and do my shy smile/quiet ‘hello’ thing and take out my book so she immediately zeros in on me as ‘the good kid’ as usual
  • But she literally seemed to think every other person in this class was a hardened criminal holy shit. She was all over the place barking orders and yelling. And of course, you’ve got a room full of class clowns, like they feed off teachers like this. So the madder she got the more ridiculous they got. I was literally almost in tears trying to force myself not to laugh because I didn’t want to risk her turning on me omfg
  • So she yelled and flailed about the room and they kept going with jokes and paper wasps and lying about their names and just doing literally every thing they could possibly do so this woman wouldn’t have the chance to rest
  • This escalated with every minute and came to a resounding end when the teacher decided the Australian Kid™ was chewing gum and picked up the trashcan and shoved his face in it, screaming at him to spit it out as he yelled back “YOU’RE ONLY DOING THIS BECAUSE IM AN IMMIGRANT
  • he was in charge of all the bullshit that day and it was hysterical but he wasn’t the one chewing gum loudly that was me
  • The vp came in to see what all the yelling was about to find a teacher shoving a boy’s head in the trash, one boy shirtless as another drew tattoos on him, the phone off the line with it’s cord wrapped around a kid’s neck, two boys dueling with skeleton arms, one kid with her leg out the window, a kid tying a skeleton foot to the ceiling fan, rubber bands and paper wasps flying from every angle, three people turtling backpacks, someone brandishing an epi-pen, sexual hangman being played on the chalkboard, someone eating ice cream and fanning himself with money, and me, crying into my book with my hand literally bleeding from all my efforts to not laugh at what I was witnessing
  • We never saw her in detention again😂
  • My one younger friend got a detention for being late and was really shaken up about it and I tried to tell her she’d be fine but then she got caught sliding me chocolate animal crackers during it, and subsequently got another detention because of this; somehow I was not viewed as an equally guilty party and didn’t get in trouble
  • This one guy came in complaining “You guys all told me to get a twitter and I get thrown in twitter jail my first day!” “That’s like a thousand tweets in one day, how the fuck did you mange that?” “Bitch I had a lot to say about McDonalds!”
  • One teacher came in and was like “I don’t feel like helping with homework but does anyone wanna learn how to hack a computer?”
  • Someone got caught pouring water out the window but when the teacher looked to see why she saw the youngest of the goats™ standing under the window with it’s mouth open waiting for more
  • One time the teacher wouldn’t let me go to the bathroom and after I asked for like the 5th time he said “It can’t be that important!” so I just pulled a pad out of my backpack and silently sat it on my desk while glaring at him and this 40 year old man looked like he was about to pass out and he finally let me go
  • I remember our final detention of senior year we were told that if we skip it we can’t graduate so everyone went into that room with a ridiculously nostalgic attitude and one guy finally stole the skull off the skeleton and we fucking tossed it around the entire time while singing and blatantly ignoring the teacher’s complaining lmao
  • I know there’s more but it’s 7am and this is long so all in all like…I do not miss high school but some memories are bearable lmao
On trauma aftermaths that don't advance the plot

The way TV shows trauma can lead people to expect every reference to trauma to be a plot point. This can be isolating to people coping with the aftermaths of trauma. Sometimes people treat us as stories rather than as people. Sometimes, instead of listening to us, they put a lot of pressure on us to advance the plot they’re expecting.

On TV, triggers tend to be full audiovisual flashbacks that add something to the story. You see a vivid window into the character’s past, and something changes. On TV, trauma aftermaths are usually fascinating. Real life trauma aftermaths are sometimes interesting, but also tend to be very boring to live with.

On TV, triggers tend to create insight. In real life, they’re often boring intrusions interfering with the things you’d rather be thinking about. Sometimes knowing darn well where they come from doesn’t make them go away. Sometimes it’s more like: Seriously? This again?

On TV, when trauma is mentioned, it’s usually a dramatic plot point that happens in a moment. In real life, trauma aftermaths are a mundane day-to-day reality that people live with. They’re a fact of life — and not necessarily the most important one at all times. People who have experienced trauma do other things too. They’re important, but not the one and only defining characteristic of who someone is. And things that happened stay important even when you’re ok. Recovery is not a reset. Mentioning the past doesn’t necessarily mean you’re in crisis.

On TV, when a character mentions trauma, or gets triggered in front of someone, it’s usually a dramatic moment. It changes their life, or their relationship with another character, or explains their backstory, or something. In real life, being triggered isn’t always a story, and telling isn’t always a turning point. Sometimes it’s just mentioning something that happened to be relevant. Sometimes it’s just a mundane instance of something that happens from time to time.

Most people can’t have a dramatic transformative experience every time it turns out that their trauma matters. Transformative experiences and moments of revelation exist, but they’re not the end all and be all of trauma aftermaths. Life goes on, and other things matter too. And understanding what a reaction means and where it came from doesn’t always make it go away. Sometimes, it takes longer and has more to do with skill-building than introspection. Sometimes it doesn’t go away.

On a day to day level, it’s often better to be matter-of-fact about aftermaths. It can be exhausting when people see you as a story and expect you to advance the plot whenever they notice some effect of trauma. Pressure to perform narratives about healing doesn’t often help people to make their lives better. Effect support involves respecting someone as a complex human, including the boring parts.

The aftermath of trauma is a day-to-day reality. It affects a lot of things, large and small. It can be things like being too tired to focus well in class because nightmares kept waking you up every night this week. TV wants that to be a dramatic moment where the character faces their past and gets better. In real life, it’s often a day where you just do your best to try and learn algebra anyway. Because survivors do things besides be traumatized and think about trauma. Sometimes it’s not a story. Sometimes it’s just getting through another day as well as possible.

A lot of triggers are things like being unable to concentrate on anything interesting because some kinds of background noises make you feel too unsafe to pay attention to anything else. For the zillionth time.  Even though you know rationally that they’re not dangerous. Even though you know where they come from, and have processed it over and over. Even if you’ve made a lot of progress in dealing with them, even if they’re no longer bothersome all the time. For most people, recovery involves a lot more than insight. The backstory might be interesting, but being tired and unable to concentrate is boring.

Triggers can also mean having to leave an event and walk home by yourself while other people are having fun, because it turns out that it hurts too much to be around pies and cakes. Or having trouble finding anything interesting to read that isn’t intolerably triggering. Or having trouble interacting with new people because you’re too scared or there are too many minefields. Or being so hypervigilant that it’s hard to focus on anything. No matter how interesting the backstory is, feeling disconnected and missing out on things you wanted to enjoy is usually boring.

When others want to see your trauma as a story, their expectations sometimes expand to fill all available space. Sometimes they seem to want everything to be therapy, or want everything to be about trauma and recovery.

When others want every reference to trauma to be the opening to a transformative experience, it can be really hard to talk about accommodations. For instance, it gets hard to say things like:

  • “I’m really tired because of nightmares” or 
  • “I would love to go to that event, but I might need to leave because of the ways in which that kind of thing can be triggering” or 
  • “I’m glad I came, but I can’t handle this right now” or
  • “I’m freaking out now, but I’ll be ok in a few minutes” or 
  • “I need to step out — can you text me when they stop playing this movie?”

It can also be hard to mention relevant experiences. There are a lot of reasons to mention experiences other than wanting to process, eg:

  • “Actually, I have experience dealing with that agency”
  • “That’s not what happens when people go to the police, in my experience, what happens when you need to make a police report is…”
  • “Please keep in mind that this isn’t hypothetical for me, and may not be for others in the room as well.”

Or any number of other things.

When people are expecting a certain kind of story, they sometimes look past the actual person. And when everyone is looking past you in search of a story, it can be very hard to make connections.

It helps to realize that no matter what others think, your story belongs to you. You don’t have to play out other people’s narrative expectations. It’s ok if your story isn’t what others want it to be. It’s ok not to be interesting. It’s ok to have trauma reactions that don’t advance the plot. And there are people who understand that, and even more people who can learn to understand that.

It’s possible to live a good life in the aftermath of trauma. It’s possible to relearn how to be interested in things. It’s possible to build space you can function in, and to build up your ability to function in more spaces. It’s often possible to get over triggers. All of this can take a lot of time and work, and can be a slow process. It doesn’t always make for a good story, and it doesn’t always play out the way others would like it to. And, it’s your own personal private business. Other people’s concern or curiosity does not obligate you to share details.

Survivors and victims have the right to be boring. We have the right to deal with trauma aftermaths in a matter-of-fact way, without indulging other people’s desires for plot twists. We have the right to own our own stories, and to keep things private. We have the right to have things in our lives that are not therapy; we have the right to needed accommodations without detailing what happened and what recovery looks like. Neither traumatic experiences nor trauma aftermaths erase our humanity.

We are not stories, and we have no obligation to advance an expected plot. We are people, and we have the right to be treated as people. Our lives, and our stories, are our own.

some fox hcs bc i’m sick and it’s all i’ve been thinking about:

  • when they have movie nights, allison and matt have a competition to see who can catch more popcorn in their mouths. allison always wins so matt just throws popcorn at her without even letting her catch it
  • they all go team grocery shopping after finding out neil has never had at least 50% of the junk food they all grew up on
  • renee takes up crocheting and makes them all fox print patterned socks. they wear them every movie night(even andrew)
  • nicky gets homesick sometimes and when he does he makes a lot of the traditional dishes his mom would and the foxes eat all of it even though they literally saw nicky chopping raw jalapenos earlier
  • allison and dan are real housewives fanatics and they will kill a man to get to the tv. kevin still has the scars on his arm from where allison nearly clawed his arm off for trying to change the tv
  • the foxes do charity dog washing at a nearby pet shelter and neil literally almost gets smothered by the biggest dog there and that’s when the foxes find out neil is the biggest dog magnet
  • nicky makes the mistake of teaching andrew to bake and he never leaves the kitchen. but the tower always smells like vanilla so that’s a bonus
  • neil cannot cook for shit and i’m standing by this until i die. he tried making cup noodles in the dorm microwave and matt came back to a small fire and a calm neil just watching the fire blaze
  • neil twists his ankle falling down some stairs and matt uses this as an excuse to bridal carry him everywhere
  • “do i even weigh anything to you?”  “no, it’s like holding a couple of grapes.”
  • allison and neil take exactly 5 hours every saturday to go shopping, get facials, gossip. allison has video proof of neil sitting on a lounge chair with his whole face covered in a cucumber face mask, sipping lemon water, and getting his nails done. he looks right into her camera and in the most deadpan voice says “ah yes, the bourgeoisie.” the video ends with allison snickering and dropping her phone 
  • whenever anyone is late to practice they have to go on a run with neil and every time they fall behind is a lap they have to do at the next practice. no one is late again after kevin comes back from a run and passes the fuck out
  • the foxes went to disney world once and lost andrew. they don’t speak of it ever again. 
  • matt when asked by some sexist reporter why he listens to what the girls tell him to do: dan’s my girlfriend, renee could kill me, and allison has enough dirt on me to ruin my life until i die. also i respect them more than your crusty ass so that’s there as well. next question?
  • (matt isn’t allowed to do press duty for the next week after that)
  • kevin, five drinks in and nearing tipsy: if renee ever became a villian we’d all be screwed
  • the rest of the foxes except for renee and andrew: AMEN
  • casual cheek kisses are a thing among the foxes but no one kisses neil around andrew unless they want to lose a toe
  • it isn’t a question if whether or not a drunk kevin has acidentally called andrew “aaron”, it’s whether or not kevin actually made it out alive
  • nicky matt, and neil all have a shared exasperation for White People Food
  • neil and renee have been banned from nearly evershopping center within 50 miles of palmetto bc they wouldn’t stop throwing the knives to test how sharp they were
  • aaron and andrew play pokemon against each other(even tho andrew is more partial to acnl) and andrew manages to beat aaron’s entire team with just a jigglypuff and no one knows how he did it
  • once neil got really drunk and before he went to bed he kissed everyone’s foreheads(aaron left right after neil kissed renee’s) like his mom used to do to him before she went to sleep and it left everyone in shock

@thunderboltsortofapenny said: No no let’s do this! Why would steve need to be fake married. Or why would bucky need to be fake married to Steve. We need a reason. #Viper do the thing #It’ll be fun!

So I did the thing, and it’s stupid and terrible, but here, have it:


Bucky’s an EMT. Normal guy, just living his life, trying to help where he can. And then one day, all of a sudden, the aliens are invading NYC, and Bucky’s out there helping, right in the middle of the danger zone because of course he is.

There’s a fight going on, and a bunch of freaks in weird suits seem to be fighting the aliens, but Bucky doesn’t have much time to focus on anything other than all the people in dire need of medical attention. He does what he can to help, grabs the first metal bar he can find and fights only the aliens getting in his way, and works himself to exhaustion. Then there’s a blast, and it sends a man flying right into the wall next to him.

“Hey, you okay?” Bucky asks, rushing to help him, and though Bucky could’ve sworn the blow was hard enough to crush anyone’s ribs, he’s surprised to see the man–who must’ve been on his way to a costume party–stand up practically unscathed.

He’s got broad shoulders and a strong jaw and eyes of the prettiest shade of blue Bucky’s ever seen, and even with his face covered in soot and grime and blood, Bucky’s heart skips a beat.

For a few seconds the man seems a bit disoriented, then he finally registers Bucky’s presence. “What are you doing here?? Get out of the streets!”

“I was–” Bucky starts, and is cut off by an explosion right above their heads and a bunch of debris raining down on them, and a hand shoving him aside.

When he comes to, which is a surprise in itself, the dust has started to clear, and the man who’s clearly saved his life is carrying him as if he weighed nothing, concern in those beautiful eyes and a big, warm hand pressed tenderly against Bucky’s neck, checking for a pulse.

He locks eyes with Bucky and sighs in relief, the hint of a smile on his plush lips, but the hand remains where it is. “Hi,” he says. “You all right?”

“Y-yeah… Thank you,” Bucky replies, but he doesn’t move to free himself of the man’s arms. His stomach is doing something weird, and the man surely has other people to rescue, but for a few seconds they both just stay there, shell-shocked and staring at each other like the world around them has stopped.

Then something blows up nearby, and the spell is broken.

Carefully, the man helps him to his feet, makes sure Bucky’s in one piece, and then says, “Find shelter, okay? Stay inside.”

Bucky’s not planning to, but he can’t find it in him to tell that to this incredible man, so he slowly licks his lips and nods. Before turning around to leave, the man offers him a small, shy smile.

- - - - -

During the next few weeks after the Chitauri attack on NYC, every single piece of footage of the Avengers fighting against the aliens and helping civilians goes viral. Phone videos, security cameras, blurry pics.

The most popular, by far, is a snapshot of Captain America carrying a guy, who can be seen fighting aliens and helping people in other videos, bridal style, thumb caressing his jaw, and both looking like lovestruck teenagers.

Bucky can’t go to the grocery store or even do his job without being stalked by the paparazzi or Cap’s groupies or just random people wanting to know what his Avenger name is, and for how long he’s been dating Captain America.

- - - - -

“You’ve ruined my life!!” Bucky tells him, because of course, of course Captain America would pick Bucky’s park for his morning run. Of course Bucky’d slip on wet leaves on the pavement precisely this morning, and of fucking course Captain America would just happen to be around to catch him at just the right time. Bucky’s seeing red.

“I’m sorry,” Captain America says, and it’s extremely unfair just how genuine and how much like a kicked puppy he looks.

Christ, Bucky wants to punch him.

- - - - -

Steve’s been living in PR hell.

He’s spent the past weeks “saving” girls and boys alike from getting hit by a bicycle, or fainting, or a fuckton of equally stupid shit.

The second anyone spots Captain America, there’ll suddenly be some kind of dangerous situation going down, and someone hoping Cap will carry them bridal style to safety and maybe fall head over heels in love with them in the process.

Steve is tired and done and ready to get back in the ice for another few decades, and shares Pepper’s worries that someone might actually put themself in real danger soon.

“We should handle this before it gets worse,” Nat says. And Steve agrees, of course, but he just doesn’t know how.

“Just marry the guy,” Clint suggests.

Steve almost chokes to death on his own spit.

“WHAT?”

Clint shrugs. “Why not? Half the world already thinks you’re dating…”

“Clint, he hates me…”

“Only cause people keep pestering him about this. If you two get married it’ll be a circus, but then it’ll blow over. He can’t even do his job right now, right? So you pay the guy for the trouble, yadda yadda, then when this is over you two get a quick divorce, and that’s it. Problem solved.”

For two minutes, no one else opens their mouth. Then:

“He’s got a point…”

“Tony, no,” Steve whines.

“You saw the footage, how he was helping those civilians… If you have to marry someone, he’s not a bad candidate,” Nat says, and then smirks. “Plus, he’s cute.”

Steve already knows he’s lost this battle, but that doesn’t help him feel any better about this. Yes, he’s cute. Yes, he’s a brave and kind and smart guy. Yes, Steve could very easily pretend to be married to him for a while and yes it’d help them both. None of that’s the problem.

The problem is that he kind of really likes the guy.

The problem is that the guy hates him.

This is a really, really bad idea.

Yet another from this long list of prompts, completely unprompted.

Number Twelve: “I’m pregnant.”


The text came in at 7:17am, and in the mean time, Stiles had made his way through four and a half breakdowns, all of them for different reasons.

Number One: Male werewolves could get pregnant, and tying into that:

Number Two: Derek had never found it relevant to their two year relationship to share this fun fact. That didn’t say much as to his thoughts on their future together, which stung.

Number Three: Stiles was going to be a father at twenty-four.

Number Four: Just the night before, with Derek in Argentina visiting Cora, Stiles ate a dinner of Cheetos, plain microwaved hotdogs wrapped in bread, and four beers before passing out on the couch with the tv remote in his hand. He was not ready to be a father.

Number Five (still ongoing, more or less halfway through): They were going to have to move because no amount of corner guards or stupid little outlet plugs could childproof the loft. The door to the kitchen was literally a jagged hole in a brick wall. Stiles caught his shins on it regularly, they were always a mess of scabs and bruises.

Actually his entire body was a mess of scabs and bruises, because that was his life now, had been since sophomore year: fighting off the forces of supernatural evil.

Too bad he couldn’t childproof his life.

Oh god, they were going to have to move out of Beacon Hills. Away from the pack.

Nothing was stable in Beacon Hills, it had been eight years of panic and anxiety and near deaths and actual deaths. They couldn’t bring a baby into their current lives, Stiles wouldn’t even bring an adult into this hellhole. Who was trained in firearms. With combat experience.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

i don't remember if this has been discussed before but do you know why lexa was so smiley and almost playful in that scene in 304 when she was telling clarke about aden?

Alright, my brain is currently melting away because of the unbearable heat, so I hope this will make sense even though I’m not really sure about it. BUT. I wanted to answer this question because we kinda see the scene in a very different way. Maybe it’s my angsty soul, but I actually don’t think Lexa is being that playful in that scene. Actually… there are certain elements about it that I actually find sad, mostly because they speak of how Lexa is, of the way she thinks and sees things. In this particular case, the way she sees Clarke. Or even better, the way she reads Clarke’s reaction to the situation. But let me try to make myself more clear. (x)

The scene begins with Lexa asking Aden to stay so she can introduce him to Clarke. She proceeds to praise him, making sure Clarke knows his value, and to explain what is going to happen in case she should die during the duel with Roan.

I love how much you can read on Clarke’s face here. The initial confusion. Then, most important, the slight panic and worry at the mention of Lexa’s possible death. Her eyes actually go wide at that. Then, the moment when she connects the dots, when she realizes why Lexa is introducing her to this child, because he’ll likely be the next Commander. They’re mostly talking politics, but basically, everything about this scene revolves around one thing: Lexa’s death. And here we get to the part I actually find pretty sad.

Lexa sees the confusion and fear on Clarke’s face and, in a rare occasion when it comes to Lexa understanding and knowing Clarke, she misreads what she sees. 

What does she tell Aden? “Clarke worries about her people.” Clarke worries about her people. This tiny smile, almost resigned in a way, appears on her face, and she explains to Aden the apparent reason for Clarke’s worried expression. And this is what pains me: the thought that Clarke might be worried about her doesn’t cross Lexa’s mind. Her death is a reason for concern in the sense that it could lead to potential danger for Clarke’s people, not a concern because it would mean that, you know, she would be gone. Lexa talks about her death constantly and nonchalantly because she has been taught not to value her life outside of the confinements of her position as Commander. At worst, she sees it as an inconvenience, definitely not as a tragedy. Add the delicate condition of Clarke and Lexa’s relationship to this, the baby steps towards rebuilding trust and growing close again, and it’s pretty easy to understand why Lexa doesn’t think Clarke’s worry might have anything to do with her as Lexa the girl, not the Commander.

This is why she has Aden explain what he would do if she were to die, how he would still protect Skaikru and accept them into the Coalition. This is why I think she smirks. In her head, she has it all covered: Clarke has no reason to worry because she took care of every small detail to ensure Skaikru’s safety in case of her death.

Except that Clarke has every reason to worry, because she doesn’t care just about her people. She cares about Lexa.

anonymous asked:

Hi, I don't know if you're taking prompts but I just read your scene about Andrew being there in Baltimore and it was amazing so I wanted to ask you to write something about Andreil + neck kisses, because I feel like this is a Very Important plot point that was not fully explored. Like maybe Andrew coming to terms with the fact that it's actually his favorite thing, and not knowing how to ask for it? Ugh I just finished rereading the series and I can't get enough of these stupid boys 🦊

(Thank you so muuuuch, and also I totally agree tbh)

He hates the way Neil always pauses to kiss at the hinge of his jaw on the way to his neck. It’s like a check point, the sweet press of a power button, and Neil doesn’t even seem to realize he’s doing it. He kisses with his whole face too, dragging down over Andrew’s bottom lip and chin and throat with his eyes closed, like he’s too in love with the experience to even look.

It’s killing Andrew. It’s stoppering the air in his lungs and giving him stomach ache with how bad he wants it. You like it. I like that you like it.

Andrew hates that he likes it, the vulnerability of that bared neck. It feels like a mistake every time he does it, but it also kind of feels like he’s taken the first shots of the night and he can’t stop, like the more he drinks the thirstier he gets. Neil is such a mistake, but he’s so so easy to make.

Kissing — like this, with the covers pushed down and Andrew on his side with his hand up Neil’s shirt — feels inevitable. He can’t stop pushing up Neil’s springy cowlicks and Neil can’t stop fumbling down to Andrew’s neck and sucking. It’s so humid and nervy-tense between them, like it’s never been, like Neil is singlehandedly dangling Andrew off of a rooftop.

Neil passes his tongue over that root of Andrew’s jaw and Andrew makes a noise so low that it sounds wounded. He just barely keeps his hands from forcing Neil closer, chasing that moment where Neil can’t help himself, circulating between mouth and face and neck before Andrew directs his attention elsewhere. He just wants to stay in that circuit with his hands open and his head tilted back.

Andrew’s fist must go too tight in Neil’s hair because he pulls back frowning, lips red.

“Sorry,” Neil says. “Carried away.” He looks troubled by this, like he’s not used to being carried away by things that aren’t arguments.

“No,” Andrew starts, and then stalls out. His hand is still in Neil’s hair. He doesn’t know how to ask for this; doesn’t even know if he wants to.

“No?” Neil repeats. “Okay.” He leans back and off of Andrew, passing one hand through his own hair and undoing Andrew’s work messing it up.

“I didn’t tell you to stop,” Andrew says, and the way he’s exposed is too much — shirt pushed up in the tousle to pull Neil on top, hard and marked up.

“In my experience, no means stop,” Neil says evenly.

It’s exactly what he wants to hear, he realizes suddenly. Neil finds this humiliating way of giving Andrew what he wants without looking like he’s considered it at all.

Keep reading

An observation of Markiplier TV

Emphasis on the observation part because I’ve never really been good with theories. I have a number of things to do today but unfortunately, I watched this video and now I can’t stop thinking about it. Hopefully this’ll quiet my mind and let me function, and who knows? Maybe it’ll help someone out there with their own theories too. :)

So, let’s talk about this scene:

We got one hell of a group here BUT what I’d like to focus on is their seating arrangement and what that could mean, because if there’s anything I’ve learned in videos like this it’s that EVERYTHING is by design. This entire table scene (props to the Editor btw) has so much hidden psychological subtext in it, so while I’m no professional I’ll still do my best to uncover them all.

First off, let’s look at the table: Rectangular with two long ends and two short ones. Pretty normal setting yeah, but is it beneficial to their situation (i.e. finding a way to ‘take control’) where everyone easily agrees? Nope. Because tables like these embody competition and a clear sense of authority, and I love this detail. It means that while they could’ve easily gone for a round table to promote cooperation, they go for this because of course, no one’s going to cooperate that easily.

This setting, however, works better in the business cooperative world, because you got two people (Darkiplier & Wilford) who can control the meeting from both ends of the table and are essentially the people everyone will need to look up to.

Here’s a great detail though: In this kind of setting, the more powerful of the two is usually the one opposite the entrance to the room. This allows him not just a vantage point of whoever comes in and goes, but complete control as well. And as we see where King of the Squirrels pops up:

Originally posted by antisepticjack

Which we can easily tell was from the right of the room based on the direction his body and eyes shift to, we can point out where the entrance is and who was right there:

But yeah, in this moment it didn’t seem like Will had control over King’s sudden entrance but let’s face it: he doesn’t care. He already knows that there’s more than one king in that room.

Speaking of, let’s move on to the seating arrangement.

Obviously we got Dark and Will at the ends as the higher ups, but I’d like to talk about Googleplier and The Host.

In medieval times, kings would often have their advisors right at their side at the table. This actually explains the term “right hand man”, because the king would have them close at hand to help him rule, unless of course, he was left-handed. Looking back at Dark’s antics, I have reason to believe that he’s either left-handed or ambidextrous.

Originally posted by http-darkiplier-403forbidden

Which I guess would make sense, considering that while Ed, Bim, Silver and Dr. Iplier were all concerned about their parts in the video, only Google and The Host were able to keep a level head and not lose sight of their main goal/situation.

Now the last thing I want to talk about is Wilford’s idea for Markiplier TV. I must warn you though because this is going to be a bit of a stretch so stop reading if you’d like BUT… I think he may have been inspired by Anti.

AGAIN, please bear with me. Jack’s mentioned before that Dark and Anti ever meeting each other was very unlikely, which in Dark’s case (being the alter ego that’s been pushed inside the most) could be more than true. However, Wilford makes up for this as he’s the only one not bound by the laws of physics and is, potentially, omnipresent. So it’s possible that he’s aware of Anti (since he was aware of Septiplier after all) and his methods (i.e. using social media to have his fans notice him which then gives him control) BUT, being Wilford, he goes about it in his own roundabout way which is, of course, TELEVISION.

So, yeah, this is all I can come up with. Excluding my attempt in theorizing at the very end I hope this was helpful. Now I’m just hoping that my thoughts on Antisepticeye don’t get too hectic and end up like this long wall of text. Thanks for reading. :)

hey i wanna talk about erik klose

  • “i feel like he could hold me up forever” erik isn’t just emotional support he’s a soccer player and he is s t r o n g
    • he got them Midfielder Thighs™
  • he fuckin loves soccer movies ok 
    • nicky, already grinning, in response to erik’s parents asking how his day was: alles ist gut
    • erik, sliding into the room in his socks and running into a wall: soLANGE DU WILD BIST!!!!!
    • used Bend It Like Beckham and She’s The Man to practice his english
    • he definitely has a poster of jess bhamra in his room, she’s his hero
  • he is SUPER tall
    • (he’s actually taller than matt when his hair isn’t spiked)
  • him and nicky are low key competitive as fuck and they run together when nicky starts training for exy
  • nicky quickly learns that trying to outlast a midfielder on a run just. doesn’t work. they do the most running on the team and typically go whole games without getting subbed out.
    • 3 miles in nicky is wheezing and dying and erik is laughing like the absolute traitor he is
  • but!! it wasn’t all sunshine at first i mean come on,, this is the foxes
    • when nicky first got to the Klose’s he was reserved, quiet. 
    • erik was taking a year off to travel with friends during the first 6 months nicky was there
    • when both parents agreed nicky could stay for the summer for some extra classes so he could graduate on time (by american standards), he finally met erik
    • tall, athletic, kind erik, erik who came home with all kinds of candy from all kinds of countries to give to a boy he never met all to make a pun about what a “sweet deal” it was to have someone new in the house, he felt his heart race when nicky smiled at him for his ridiculous efforts
    • that’s the first time the klose’s saw a real smile come from nicky
  • erik convinced nicky to go to church after a while
    • it was hard at first, especially when nicky noticed erik was getting some weird looks from some of the older people in the congregation
    • when nicky asked why, erik told him about how when he came out his grandmother stopped speaking to him, and how some parents didn’t want to let erik come over to see his friends
    • but then erik told him how his parents told anyone who wasn’t okay with their son that they weren’t worth having around, that they loved erik and they wouldn’t allow anyone to try and make him feel bad for being himself
    • and how his cousins snuck out and took him to his first pride parade in hamburg
    • surrounded by people who actually care, nicky started to hope again
  • nicky starts to smile more and erik…he’s so smitten. his new mission in life is to make nicky smile
  • erik’s humor is usually really awful puns and dad jokes, but he also is really good at keeping a straight face while saying absolutely ridiculous things, leading people to question whether he’s really serious or not and nicky fighting super hard not to bust out laughing (because he’s the only one who can tell he’s joking)
  • nicky prides himself on being pretty fashionable so he’s not entirely sure how the hell he lets erik get away with wearing those awful toe shoes. the. the individual toe ones.
    • you know the ones
  • the first time they kiss, erik was climbing a tree and fell out, because all his grace stops the minute he steps off the field
    • it was a forehead kiss because, well, erik’s face was bleeding, but yea
    • they’re a bit of a mess, but they’re cute, ya know?
  • nicky and erik are the type of couple to go to the grocery store at 2am because they really want to make mac n cheese and accidentally end up buying 4 pounds of candy instead while serenading each other to the weird 90s music the store is playing
  • erik loves aldi’s and wants to live there. everything is so cheap, nicky. they have my favorite cheese, nicky. nicky. where are you going. nicky i live here don’t leave we haven’t bought any bread yet-
  • he owns crocs. he just. he does. he bought orange ones when nicky joined the foxes and fuckin little white fox paw insert thingies because he’s a supportive boyfriend, dammit
  • he draws smiley faces on everything. notes to nicky, his notes at school, on his meeting notes at work, and his favorite place: on nicky. 
  • he’s one of those people who can’t tan for shit, he just burns then freckles. nicky is constantly nagging him to wear sunscreen. he always forgets and sends nicky pictures of his bright red shoulders only to get pages of texts ranting about sunscreen and melanoma
  • he’s got scars everywhere but theyre all from like. the dumbest stuff. there’s a big one on his knee from sneezing while on a run and subsequently tripping on the sidewalk and wiping out. several are from falling out of trees. he broke his nose falling out of the shower because he freaked out when he saw a spider. again, all his grace is on the soccer field. everywhere else he’s a hazard.
  • he’s really, really clumsy. he loves fiercely because that’s how his parents taught him. he knows he’s lucky to have a family that stuck by him, he knows it’s the least they can do, but so many gay kids have shitty parents. kids like nicky. and erik may be gangly and clumsy. he may be competitive and he may not always understand how nicky feels because he hasn’t experienced what nicky has. but he has fallen out of more trees than anybody he knows, and falling in love with nicky is an ache he’s never been able to ice away, and would never want to anyway.

i. domesticity

I drink milk every day because my doctor says I need it to grow. Kind of like I need this calcium rush in order to make my bones stronger so I stop cracking them so easily. Preventing them from ever reverting to the weak, knobbly knees of last summer when a boy I had a crush on. Had a crush on, crushed me. Like a pulp. Into grains. Like a spoon grinding up soggy cereal swimming at the bottom of a bowl. I wake up in the middle of the night, remembering I didn’t drink 3 glasses today, and run to the refrigerator in my socks and chug it straight from the gallon, barbaric and yearning like a schoolgirl hitching her skirt up too high, and picture the white flowing through my veins. Softening me. Rounding me out. Giving me curves. I get a brain freeze instead and pray I’ll stop crying over spills and that I can sleep with this cold lurching in my stomach.

ii. vicinity

Maybe one day my hair will stop being so limp in the heat, but I don’t think that kind of thing can be anticipated, so I just have to wait. Girls like me live in the back of an un-air-conditioned convenience store, ratty sweatpants, tight tank tops, and crawl out with week-old receipts bursting from their pockets. Like glued ribcage kind of girls, like elastic hair tie, red marks around the wrist kind of girls. The cashier doesn’t mind when I snag a magazine from the rack and browse through it without paying because no matter how hard I try, I end up looking pre-pubescent anyway. And they let things slide. For a girl like me, at least. I’m saying, lopsided bun, wide eyes, a mouthful of crooked teeth, stars pulling them into their places, I was always too scared to get braces. The cover has some headline about how to enlarge your breasts naturally, which I think might be useful, and another about how to communicate effectively with others without saying hurtful things, which makes me laugh. I flip to the back to check my horoscope and eat that prophetic, adolescent shit catered to the teenage soul up like Eucharist laid under the tongue. Swallow down a spoonful of March’s: “Prepare to face some stress this month, but that’s okay! You’ll be able to get through it and find time to relax.” I want to rip out the page and shove it into my bra, like keeping these soft, meaningless words close to my chest will make them seep into my heart and change me. Stop making me think so much, fill my brain up with Arizona tea and static instead. But I’m cheap, and I shove the magazine back. I think my chest will stay flat forever.

iii. mobilization

I seek healing. Mending. I’m fingernails deep, sitting in the back of a subway at 3 a.m., pressing crescent moons into the leather seat, trying to dig up salvation. You can’t find that here, you can’t find that in the cracks between the tiles, you can’t find comfort in the ground up cigarette butt stamped into the floor. I’m wishing against this fogged up glass I could say anything, anything that would make sense for once, so someone could help me. Like please, my mind is bending in backwards, like please, I don’t think this underdeveloped chest can take any more of this resentment or it’s going to explode through my ribcage, out of my flesh, like please, I don’t want to hurt anymore. And it’s not my fault that I launch myself around like I’m in some sick little competition, pretending I don’t care, like I’m having the time of my life. Of course I’m not, of course I’m not, I don’t think having your hands shake and your brain go fuzzy whenever you think a little too much is fun, something to be documented for the world to see. I guess I’m different from other people that way, I’d rather people think I’m having a good time than actually have one without anyone knowing. I wish I knew how to sew, so I could stitch up my fibrillating heart, no matter how sloppy and crooked, but the needle jabs my finger as the subway lurches left, and I bleed, I bleed, I bleed.

iv. unearthliness

My mom told me not to walk naked in front of the altar. Disrespectful, she called it, and even though I agree, sometimes I test my divinity and emerge from the bathroom, the steam from the shower wafting off smoke like the incense in its pot. Young god, skin tinted green from fake gold. Young god, empty stomach, fruit scooped out of its rind, leaving me seedless. This hatred has roots, and I don’t know whether I want to dig out my insides with my hands or fill myself up until I’m close to bursting. I let people think the scratches on my knees are from a night of alcohol and a boy tugging my hair. Of course, it’s that and not child worship on a scratchy rug, not begging for forgiveness, not praying for glamour and glory, not hoping for. Of course it’s not hoping for something better.

—  this pain lasts in every location
  • Me: having a structured life is exhausting!
  • Therapist: I understand. Let's say just get up in the morning, get some breakfast, go for a walk...and that's it for a start.
  • Me: *internally: sounds reasonable, but that means first fighting against my will to just stay in bed and act as if I'm not existing. Getting up either way and facing my face and body in the mirror. There's an 80% chance that it's one of those days and I hate myself just so fucking much I could scream. But there's also a chance I look in the mirror and find a person that does not seem to be familiar to me looking back at me. Still, now you want me to shower and wash this body I find really disgusting. I have to see every single scar I have and maybe feel the burn of fresh cuts. Then I have to put on cloth, brush my teeth and my hair and do my makeup, as I can't go outside without hiding my ugly face under layers of primers and foundations and powders and highlighters and fake lashes and a perfect contour and a big nude fake smile. I spend money I don't have to make myself look good enough for myself to endure my own appearance. I remember to take my meds. Now I'm dressed (in clothes that hopefully say 'i don't care' when really I care a lot) and can go to the kitchen to prepare food that I know I won't be able to eat in 50% of the cases. There's also a good chance that I eat it and then find myself throwing up and ruining my makeup feeling every single disgusting cell of fat on my body vibrate while trying to breathe. Well either way let's say I might redo my make-up, brush my teeth again and step outside. I maybe take my horse with me and walk through the neighbourhood. I have to see people. I feel anxious. I would love to just turn around and go back home. But I keep on walking, trying to seem selfconfident so my horse and neighbours can't see or feel my insecurity. I'll try to be friendly and act normal even though I'm sure they hate me and laugh about me. Still if the communication between my horse and me isn't perfect today I'll probably cry and if a neighbour just looks at me in a way that i interpret to be unfriendly or cold or annoyed I'll probably cry too. Let's say I'm back home. Now it's like 11 in the morning. What do I do? By now I'm an emotional wreck, tired as hell, probably planing on how to harm myself with one half of my brain while the other half bundles it's last energy to prevent exactly this from happening. How do I survive the rest?*
  • Me: I'll try.

anonymous asked:

Okay, serious talking now. What would be the worst point in each paladin to attack. We know about Lance's insecurities, but what else? What about the others? I want to read your opinion because you do awsome meta and character analysis.

???????? Wow, thank you ;A; And I’m not sure if I can answer this well for all paladins but I’ll try^^ [tl;dr at the end because this post has gotten really long]


Let’s start with Lance. Lance honestly has many points to attack, which is probably why this fandom is so focused on langst. It’s easy to create content for that because we have so much to work with:

1. his insecurities about his role on the team and in general

I already wrote a lot about it here (and also here a little), desperately trying to figure out how strong these insecurities are but there is no doubt that they exist^^ Surprisingly, they actually seem to be very strong, to the point that fandom only exaggerates them slightly. Lance is just pretty good at hiding them.

2. homesickness

Lance is homesick. Really homesick. He’s homesick to the point that he would leave a party to hang out alone and get lost in his memories:

He is also the one that references his life on Earth the most often. “I missed 14 days for a stomachache in 3rd grade that I never really had”, “That’s the tagline of 6 of my favorite movies” - those are little things, not very important in the overall picture but they prove that he thinks back to his past. 

3. fear of death/unnatural things that are dangerous

Lance isn’t afraid of aliens, that’s not what I mean with it - I’m talking about the episode Crystal Venom where the castle was trying to kill him. Here is an analysis on how deeply that episode really disturbed him. As for his fear of dying - he is the one that has been confronted with death the most of all the paladins (excluding Shiro - but Shiro has lost/repressed lots of his traumatic memories). Here’s proof:

S1E1. He thought Hunk had died in the explosion when they were trying to retrieve the yellow lion. S1E4. The explosion nearly killed him - “you would have died if Hunk and Coran hadn’t gotten a new crystal” (Pidge, S1E6). S1E9. He almost got sucked out of an airlock. S2E2. The snake monster thingy got free of the stone and Lance was in the direct line of fire.

He was the one screaming “we’re gonna die, we’re gonna die!!” in S2E5 when they had to hold the lenses for the wormhole maker. Lance is scared of death not despite but because he knows it the best of all of them. He almost died multiple times and he saw his friends almost dying multiple times (the Hunk thingy I included above, when he saved Coran from the explosion, when he thought he had to save Coran in “Crystal Venom”, when Pidge in the cube episode got shot down and didn’t reply to them). Look at his reaction vs the reaction of the other paladins when they thought Allura had died:

They are all shocked and disbelieving, meanwhile Lance:

He’s neither shocked nor disbelieving, he’s just hurt. One of his deepest fears became reality and there is nothing he could do about it.

Keep reading

i have too many feelings about michelle jones so here have headcanons and peter x michelle

this was obnoxiously long because i have no control so lots of stuff is under the cut and it became very fic-like at the end there, whoops. parts ONE (this one!), two, three, four.

  • so michelle moved with her family to new york when she started high school
  • and mj was actually pretty sad to leave her friends back in chicago because it had taken a long time to make those friends and she always feels awkward around new people
  • so she isn’t very happy about The Move
  • she comes from a loving family
  • like, she gets kissed every night before she goes to bed, her parents read her bedtime stories until she was ten, she used to wear matching outfits with her mother, family movie nights were every friday
  • her parents were really good to her for the most part and just loved and supported her
  • they’re also pretty smart and since mj has pretty much always been inspired by them so intelligence and the acquisition of knowledge is really important to her
  • hence reading and academic decathlon, but she’s also into math and science too because she’s very driven and doesn’t have that many friends in new york so what else is she gonna do?
  • and her parents are an interracial couple and they’ve encountered a lot of hate and mj was always so sad when she walked out with her mother and people would give them weird looks
  • so she’s tried to end hate whenever she can and fights to give a voice to those who are silenced
  • but now cue mj going to high school in new york
  • she joins academic decathlon ofc because who do you think she is she lives for this shit
  • and then! there is this little shithead on the team PETER PARKER
  • like who the fuck does this kid think he is
  • answering all these questions, acting like he’s sooo smart just because he happens to know a lot of facts and is really good at physics and speaks spanish really well and also happens to be really dorky and adorable and okay maybe he’s kind of attractive too and maybe mj starts throwing herself more into academic decathlon and possible CONSIDERS joining band but that’s ONLY BECAUSE PETER IS A SHITHEAD AND SHE NEEDS TO SHOW HIM HE ISN’T THE ONLY TALENTED ONE OKAY
  • anyway

Keep reading

just your heart beating close to mine

for nurseydex week, day 2 - bed sharing

Nursey’s a clingy drunk.

Freshman year, Dex hated it. He and Nursey spend all their sober time bickering; fighting nonstop about everything from politics to slapshot form to whether ketchup belongs on scrambled eggs (Dex will never fucking admit it, but he’s actually started to find it delicious; Nursey can never know). But the second Nursey slips over the line from tipsy to drunk, he’s Dex’s best friend–hanging off Dex’s shoulders, draping his feet into Dex’s lap, hell, draping himself into Dex’s lap, two hundred pounds and then some of languid muscle. He’s sweet when he’s drunk, his chirps soft and fond instead of scathing, and his fingertips are gentle when they wander over Dex’s skin, dipping under the collar of his t-shirt, brushing against the short hair at the nape of his neck.

And Dex hated it, because morning would come, and hungover Nursey is clingy too but not in the same way, and they were always back to sharpness, and Dex would have to pretend he didn’t get home from those kegsters and throw himself into very, very cold showers.

Sophomore year, it’s a little better. They’re friends more often than they’re not, but on the flip side, that means the rest of the team actually trusts Dex to be on Nursey Patrol (“If you don’t want to kill him all the time, we can probably trust you to make sure he doesn’t drink himself into a coma,” Bitty said cheerfully the first time, shoved Nursey, already tipsy, towards him, and disappeared onto the dance floor with a solo cup in his hand).

Except Nursey Patrol, he learns, doesn’t end with the kegster. No, Nursey Patrol ends with Nursey safe in his bed, at least out of his shoes but ideally in something comfortable enough to sleep in, after a cup or two of water and two tabs of Aspirin, his phone plugged in and the door to his room locked.

(Dex does not want to know the series of events that led to this level of Patrol being in place. If he thinks about it too hard, his chest starts to hurt, and he doesn’t wanna deal with that.)

But–

“Dexy,” Nursey says, as Dex manhandles him down to his bed and then flops down next to him, hauling Nursey’s foot into his lap to start on his shoelaces, because Three Cups of Tub Juice Derek Nurse is not a Derek Nurse who has the coordination for tasks involving dexterity. Dex had said that, once, and Nursey had said “ha, Dexterity,” and giggled for ten minutes. “Dex, will you stay with me?”

(read the rest on AO3, or read more below)

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he know’s spider-man

A/N: this is an imagine i originally posted on my wattpad account but i’m just going to stick with tumblr and post all my imagine’s here (also i’m the queen of bad titles okay bye)

summary: Ned blurts out in gym class that Peter knows Spider-Man when he hears you talk about how much the guy in red and blue fascinates you.

pairing peter parker x reader

request prompts from this list 


As you sat on the bleachers talking to your friends about nothing in particular New York’s finest hero suddenly came up in one of your conversations and you couldn’t hold back the smile that crept its way onto your lips whenever someone brought him up.

“It’s just Spider-Man” you mumbled putting your head in your hand as you smiled dreamily thinking about the man in red and blue “oh my gosh she’s crushing on spider man” one of your friends chuckled earning light smack on the back of her head from you “ow” she mumbled rubbing the spot where you had hit her, you only smiled satisfied as you continued writing your notes for the upcoming math test you had later this week.

“You seriously like Spider-Man?” Liz asked you plopping down next to you as she shooed the girl that had previously been sitting there away “I can’t like him! I don’t even know what he looks like I just find him fascinating that’s all” you frowned trying your best to avoid the topic.

Peter’s eyes opened wide as he heard the words that came out of your mouth you had a crush on Spider-Man? He thought, feeling his stomach fill with butterflies as he stared so helplessly at the girl he had been in love with for the past two years. He was certain you didn’t know who he was since you were popular and he, well he was not.

He liked to keep to himself and the only friend he had was Ned who was just as much of a nerd as him, Ned knew about Peter’s massive crush on you since it was fairly obvious, Peter would constantly stare at you and rant about how cute you were so Ned took this as his chance to get you to notice him “Peter knows Spider-Man” he suddenly yelled and everything went quite.

Everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at Peter, including you. It was like time had stopped and everyone just stared at him in shock, Peter was mortified as he looked at Ned with a death stare he absolutely hated being the center of attention. He then turned his head and as his eyes met yours, he felt his cheeks turn Scarlet as you smiled in his direction.

As soon as gym was over he stood up and hurried into the changing rooms to get back into his normal clothes which consisted of a white t-shirt, grey jacket and blue jeans. Ned followed after him and waited for him as he changed clothes.

“Why the hell would you do that Ned!?” Peter scolded his best friend whilst he pulled the white t-shirt over his head “because Y/N was talking about how much she likes Spider-Man and well I just wanted her to notice you since it’s no secret that you like her” Ned said shrugging his shoulders as he took a bite out of the chocolate bar that had been in his pocket for the last three weeks.

“I can’t believe you everyone looked at me like a was a complete freak” Peter groaned sitting down next to Ned “and Y/N she stared as well” Peter said, she was truly the only reason he felt so embarrassed about the entire ordeal “what do you mean she smiled at you! she noticed you” Ned said putting his arm around Peter’s shoulders as he took another bite of his chocolate “isn’t that like two weeks old?” Peter asked scrunching his face up in disgust “nope three weeks” Ned respondes swallowing the rest of it and throwing the plastic that had been wrapped around it into the trash.

“Much better” Peter said sarcastically as they both walked down the school hallways to their next class, which was history a class you were also in and he couldn’t help the nerves filling his stomach as he sat in the back of the classroom like usual waiting anxiously for you to walk into the room. You eventually did and did something Peter did not expect.

When your eyes met Peter’s you smiled and waved at him his eyes widening as he started looking around the room to see if you were waving at him or someone else.

You giggled at this and walked to the back of the classroom and plopped down in the seat next to him, you had never seen anyone as shocked as he was in that moment “hi I’m Y/N” you smiled towards him and offered him your hand to shake “I-I uh hi I’m uh Parker” his eyes widened “Peter Parker sorry” he chucked awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck.

You found it adorable how he stumbled over his words and blushed every time you spoke to him or looked at him, you couldn’t deny the fact he was pretty fucking cute. His sharp jaw, his lips and adorable brown eyes.

You had always noticed Peter in every single one of your classes you actually envied him a lot because of how smart he was but there was just something about him that drew you to him so you found yourself starting to take in every detail about him.

How he would stick his tongue out ever so slightly when he was concentrating and how he would anxiously bite his nails every time the teacher said that he was picking one person to come up to the board and solve what they had been doing.

Your staring didn’t go unnoticed by Peter and he stared growing more and more nervous every time you looked his way, was there something wrong with the way he dressed did he have something on his face? Those were the only things he could think about.

He had never been so grateful to hear the unpleasant noise of the bell signaling that class was over, he quickly gathered his books and made his way out of the classroom as quickly as he possibly could “Peter!” you called after him but he pretended not to hear you as he continued walking down the hallway and towards the exit.

You were a little hurt by this but decided to just forget about it and go home. You walked towards your locker and shoved all of your stuff in there slamming it shut and walking out of school.

It usually took you about 20-25 minutes to walk home but you remembered that there was a much shorter way you could go that would only take you 10 minutes but you had to go through a dark alleyway that always creeped you out and was the only reason you didn’t go the short cut, but you thought nothing of it today as the sun was shining and you were feeling brave.

But that all changed when you were about mid way through the alley “look at what we have here” you heard a mans voice slur obviously meaning that he was extremely drunk.

You started walking faster clutching your backpack tightly, slowly letting out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding in. The man quickly caught up to you and grabbed your shoulder and threw you to the ground and straight into a puddle completely drenching you.

“Please don't” you cried the man only kicking you in response “shut up you bi-” the man was cut off by someone kicking him to the ground that person being none other than Spider-Man himself.

“Y/N are you okay!?” Spider-Man asked pulling you up to your feet, you were shocked how does Spider-Man know my name? You thought “ho-how do you know my name” you finally managed to get out “oh i-uh i just you know” you heard him begin to ramble and you immediately realized who your savior was.

“Peter?” you asked slowly pulling the mask off of his head, he didn’t try to stop you and as soon as you saw the all to familiar face of Peter Parker you smiled and connected your lips to his as a thank you. He was shocked but reacted quickly by wrapping his arms around your waist.

When you pulled away his cheeks were as red as they could possibly be “please don’t tell anyone” was the first thing he said and you nodded mumbling a ‘I would never’ him only nodding before pulling the mask back over his head right before disappearing out of sight.


“She kissed you!?” the voice of Ned ran through out the entire house, Peter didn’t say anything instead he just smiled the most happiest smile he had smiled since uncle Ben died. He felt as happy as he could ever be and it was like nothing could bring him down in that moment.

“Yes she did it was amazing” Peter gushed feeling his cheeks turn a deep shade of red at the thought of your lips pressed against his.

“See being Spider-Man has it’s pros” Ned said pausing the movie that had been quietly playing in the background that the boys had stopped watching a while ago “but it also has its cons like risking my life every single day!” Peter said raising an eyebrow at Ned “whatever dude you kissed Y/N one of the most attractive girls at school”

Peter couldn’t argue with Ned anymore so he just nodded feeling as lucky as ever that a girl like Y/N had kissed him, she was way out of his league and he was sure everyone knew that but in that moment it didn’t matter the only thing that mattered was that she kissed him.

Y/N kissed him.

Listen, if they do another potc movie (very likely bc of that after credits scene) I want it to be centered around the Turners. Hear me out:

I want Will to set off to put down Davy once and for all, probably searching out Jack first (*eunuch joke here*), and Jack doing his whole “why should I?” coy routine which ends up with him agreeing (bc lets face it, he’s practically watched this guy grown into a man and you can’t tell me he doesn’t care about him one some level AND the fact that Davy Jones is gonna be ten times worse than Salazar ever hoped he could be and if he’s coming for Will on the mere account that he was the one who ‘stabbed’ the heart, while dying I may add, what would he do to Jack, who was the one who actually DID the stabbing??) and the original crew going “It’s Will!!1!” while Jack just roles his eyes in the background and gripes to the monkey.

Now lets talk about Henry, because lord knows that boy is obsessed with lore and legend and you can be sure he’s gonna find out where Will’s going somehow, and he’s gonna know exactly who Davy Jones is and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t go along. “I lost my father once and….” etc, etc. He’ll probably think he’s being helpful the sweet summer child. I mean, he could be, but I’m not too sure Will is gonna agree.

Then things get messy, because we ALL know that where Davy Jones is, Calypso isn’t far behind. I mean, she’s probably even the reason he’s back in the first place. ‘Love can’t be separated’ and all that. And if they’re gonna stretch out this franchise even more I expect a Calypso and Davy team up even more epic than last time tbh.

Let’s talk about Pirates, because we know they’re not the sharpest tools in the shed. Somewhere along the lines, they’re gonna run into something they can’t figure out, or get into a battle they can’t finish.

This is where I want Elizabeth to come in. Because Elizabeth is still the Pirate King. And I’m sure the minute she finds out Henry is gone as well, she’s gonna go find her family and she’ll be damned too if Will finishes this without her. She’s lived two decades without him, I don’t think she’d pass up the slightest opportunity to join him when this is something they started together. 

I want to see Henry’s face as she comes sailing to their rescue and hear him go “Mother?” in an incredulous tone with Will grinning, in the background as she jumps straight into the fray and puts them all to shame. And Jack looking extremely overwhelmed with all these Turners running around lol.

I want to see an ending that resolves every last open story line, and brings back the nostalgia of the original films. I just really want a film about the Turners

anonymous asked:

hi just wanna ask u, as a lebanese muslim, what defense do u have if any, for israel's invasion of palestine. i agree completely that Jewish ppl deserve a homeland just as any one else does but to invade an already existing and developed nation is cruel. i know ur not 100% pro-israel but i just want to hear ur side bc u don't seem to extremely support either israel/palestine. also, im antizionist but i fail to see how this makes me antisemitic? i have nothing against jewish ppl, just israel. ty

OK. I’m going to break this down a bit because there’s are many components to your ask and some of them are contradictory.

1. Agreeing that the Jewish people deserve a homeland is a form of Zionism. I’m frustrated by the term “anti-zionist” for a number of reasons, especially considering very few people who use the term seem to actually know what Zionism even is, or what it sounds like to most Jews. 

2. Many far right Jew haters use the term “Zionist” interchangeably with Jew and many anti-zionists who are predominantly concerned with the plight of the Palestinians end up buying into all sorts of antisemitic ideas because they’re sold as “anti-zionist.” This is incredibly dangerous to us as it allows antisemitism to be transmitted under a different label and far too few anti-zionists bother to challenge these ideas, allowing them to spread. This is dangerous for Jews and it makes it harder for us to take anti-zionists seriously when they say they aren’t antisemitic.

3. As far as Israel is concerned the circumstances are complicated and too many people try to simplify it by acting like either the Palestinians don’t exist as a people, which is wrong, or that the Jews were pure colonialist invaders which is equally wrong. This drives me nuts. So I’m going to have to break this down a bit. 

Most of the challenges I see to Zionism as practiced by Herzl and Ben Gurion are cherry picked and largely irrelevant to the cause’s necessity. Had there not been multiple waves of refugees, I probably wouldn’t support what they were doing. I also wouldn’t exist. Let me break this down a bit.

British Mandate Palestine’s Jewish Population DOUBLED between 1933 and 1939. The reason for this is twofold.

1. Nazi Germany came into existence, took over neighboring countries and began their steady process of destroying Jewish rights and safety. We all know where that led.

2. Britain, who was controlling Palestine at the time, kept immigration there open when most other countries, including the British mainland and the USA were closed. History has proven that they did, indeed, save their lives by fleeing there.

In 1939, the White Paper, in response to Palestinian protests and revolts, severely restricted Jewish immigration to British Mandate Palestine, left Jews with almost nowhere to run, right when WWII was beginning and the worst effects of Nazism were about to be felt. 

Now here’s my question. Would you bar Jews fleeing Nazism from entering the country? Knowing what we know now? Knowing that nowhere else was taking them in? 

Jewish immigration to Palestine slowed to a trickle during the Holocaust and Jews were literally trapped in Nazi occupied Europe and North Africa. 6 million died. This is historical fact.

After the Holocaust, the survivors who tried to go home faced pogroms, yet were barred from immigrating. They were forced to live in refugee camps. Again, no country made a significant effort to let them in. The USA wouldn’t until 1949 until AFTER Israel’s founding. My grandparents came to the USA because of the Refugee act of 1949. For survivors before 1949, it was Israel, pogroms or homelessness.

The next major wave of immigration to Israel were Jews in the Middle East and North Africa who were driven out of their own countries for being “Zionists” regardless of whether or not they actually were Zionists. These Jews actually form a majority of Israel’s current population. They were driven out and Israel took them in. What alternative did they have?

Finally Jews from the USSR and Ethiopia were facing brutal, systemic oppression and they came to Israel to live safely and freely among their own people, options they didn’t have elsewhere.

Now, here is my problem. Much of the rhetoric and tactics employed by anti-zionists don’t just demonize the Israeli government or state, but Israeli people, the majority of whom are Israeli because they were fleeing for their lives and safety. This is thrown in the garbage bin in favor of throwing out false equivalencies to the Boers or the British Empire. There is a level of hatred thrown at average Israeli Jewish citizens I don’t see thrown at the residents of any other country that is guilty of comparable crimes. I don’t recall seeing people damning Russian actors for being Russian the way I see Gal Gadot being damned for being Israeli. I personally live in the United States, a country built on slavery and genocide, and I don’t see instant hate the way Israeli Jews do. And, had circumstances been even slightly different, my grandparents would’ve moved to Israel instead of the USA after the Holocaust and they would’ve suddenly been treated as evil.

I don’t particularly care at this point about a one or two state solution, though I oppose the idea of annexation as being suggested by the Settler movement because it would result in genuine apartheid. What I do care about is fostering a reality where Jews and Palestinians can live side-by-side as neighbors either in neighboring countries or in the same countries and that will be impossible so long as demonization of Israeli Jews remains a major part of the pro-Palestine movement. How do you expect Jews and Palestinians to live as neighbors when they are taught to hate each other and are egged on by foreigners? 

Peace of any sort can’t happen until people actually want peace and the current environment is so grotesquely driven by hatred and demonization that I don’t see any solution as viable until we see major changes in how it’s discussed. But when Israeli voices, even moderate and liberal ones, are shut up, that is impossible. You can’t make peace with people you refuse to even talk to. This has to stop. 

The One With Stevie's Book

Steve x Reader

Summary: A tiny discovery of Steven’s interest leads to a very surprising turns of events.

Word Count: 1,615

Warnings: steve being a naughty little shit, slight nsfw content (nothing much, i promise) and detailed kissing  

A/N: i was watching season 7 episode 2 of friends “the one with rachel’s book” (hence the name of this fic) when this idea came in my mind.

i hope y'all enjoy this quick one short!

as always feedback is greatly appreciated!

Masterlist here 

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Fated Flowers

Summary: Soulmate AU where, every time your soulmate realizes new feelings for you, you get a rose. One random day in 2014, Dan wakes up with a red rose on his bedside table.

Word count: 8120

Warnings: Blood, food. If I missed anything please let me know.

A/N: A huge thank you goes out to Elizajane (@snowbunnylester) for letting me run with this idea inspired by her latest fic (um if you haven’t read it wyd), for the constant encouragement, and for beta'ing this for me.

(Ao3 Link)

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