i can get a degree in this right now

Do Something Bad, Too - Part 4

Pairing: Alpha!Bucky x Omega!Reader

Summary: It’s like every single Alpha on the planet won’t rest until they’ve confessed their eternal wish for you to mother their children, and it’s getting old. Luckily, that’s a problem Bucky might be able to fix.

Warnings: language, a/b/o dynamics, nsfw content (aka orgasms)

A/N: its finally here! sorry for taking like 30000 years but i got there in the end! happy new year, happy holidays, i hope everyone is well and i hope you enjoy this part!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

When you were in the army, you decided that you would never, ever chose an Alpha as a mate. You were surrounded by the worst kind day in day out - and, sure, when you moved companies nobody knew you were an omega thanks to the suppressants, but that just meant they felt like they could say all their shitty opinions about omegas in front of you as if you wouldn’t be offended.

In your opinion, 99% of Alphas were pigs and had zero respect for you no matter how successful you were, or how many suppressants you took. The past few weeks, however, have made you seriously reconsider that percentile.

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popular text posts + ask memes

❛ i don’t know what i’m doing with my life, but i know i’m doing it wrong ❜
❛ i am so cute and bitter ❜
❛ my life is one part ‘wait’ and another part ‘what’ ❜
❛ my #1 talent is saying stupid things to people and immediately regretting it ❜
❛ i love sleeping to avoid problems ❜
❛ i hate myself a lot but i get offended when other people do ❜
❛ i’m hungrier than the neopet i neglected for nine years ❜
❛ hit me up if you wanna date a piece of shit ❜
❛ we need some new and more powerful swears ❜
❛ i get progressively uglier throughout the day ❜
❛ i’m so miserable, but i laugh at everything ❜
❛ i need something that is more than coffee, but less than cocaine ❜
❛ just because you’re trash doesn’t mean you can’t do great things. it’s called garbage can, not garbage cannot. ❜
❛ 90 out of 10 people agree that math is fucking lame ❜
❛ if you think i’m ugly now, you should have seen me in 2009 ❜
❛ 2010 me would literally be terrified of 2016 me and i love it ❜
❛ i have a rare skin condition called close the fucking blinds ❜
❛ hey babe, i made you this mixtape for valentines day. i don’t know many love songs, so it’s just uptown funk 18 times in a row. ❜
❛ there are people who know me in real life who think i’m straight and that’s really funny to me ❜
❛ i was cursed with expensive taste and a low budget ❜
❛ yo dude i trusted you wtf the fuck? what the fuck?? what the fuck what the ❜
❛ open flannel shirts and lingerie are the hottest thing and nobody can convince me otherwise ❜
❛ i’m the weird dad, wine mom, vodka aunt, and gay emo cousin all in one person ❜
❛ that awful moment when you wake up ❜
❛ damn haha i’m going to have to deal with that sooner or later ❜
❛ are we gonna fucking hold hands tonight or what bitch ❜
❛ people our age have children what the hell i am a children ❜
❛ i don’t like your clothes. take them off. ❜
❛ why am i only motivated to sort my life out at 4 am? ❜
❛ after i die, i’ll probably still complain ❜
❛ people are so petty and then here i am, me, an angel ❜
❛ if i don’t insult you daily, it means i don’t like you ❜
❛ do something with your life that would make a 1950s straight white man angry ❜
❛ i need to get laid… to rest. put me in a coffin. let my soul ascend. ❜
❛ i’m trying to be a better person, but some people are testing me ❜
❛ i’m overstressed and underfucked ❜
❛ i can’t wait to be a piece of shit with a bachelors degree ❜
❛ my emo phase never went away, it just aged like fine wine ❜
❛ my whole life consists of wondering whether or not to make the bitchy comment ❜
❛ i don’t have time for people who don’t believe in aliens ❜
❛ the lack of cuddling i am experiencing right now is upsetting ❜
❛ why do good concert tickets happen to bad people ❜
❛ i can’t play hard to get i’m already hard to want ❜
❛ i’m still pissed off about growing up ❜
❛ if you listen carefully, you can hear me whisper ‘shut the fuck up’ at least once every five minutes ❜
❛ when i die i want my heart donated to NASA so they can finally see what a black hole looks like up close ❜

❛ single and ready to take a 20 hour nap ❜
❛ write ‘nothing is set in stone’ on my grave as both a witty joke and a subtle warning that i will be back ❜
❛ how do people even put up with me like i can’t even put up with me ❜
❛ the opening riff to mr. brightside could literally raise me from the dead ❜
❛ stale cinnamon roll, been in this world too long, too cynical  ❜
❛ sorry, i’m poor. i can’t afford to pay attention ❜
❛ aziz ansari’s voice in the back of my head faintly telling me to treat myself is going to be my downfall ❜
❛ is it too late to wrap myself up like a baby and drop myself off on a billionaire’s doorstep? ❜
❛ my neutral expression makes me look like i’m always in a bad mood which is convenient because it’s usually true ❜
❛ i never run voluntarily so if you ever see me running you should start running too because something is coming ❜

I’ve Got You

IT’S WHUMP WEEK! Hope you’re all as excited for this as I am. I’m going to try and throw some (k)lance whump at you every day!

Day One- Fever

Lance glared up at the ceiling with narrowed eyes, as if its very presence offended him. “Why do we even make plans?” he wondered aloud. “They always go south, anyways.”

Keith rolled his eyes. “If we just stormed into Galra bases with no idea what we were doing, then we’d be caught pretty easily.”

Lance eyed him, unimpressed. His skin looked unusually pale in the dim, purple light. “Kinda like how we are now?”

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Dr. Hook

Request:  Could I get a Harry Hook imagine where the reader gets hurt and keeps it from Harry and is too stubborn to admit that she needs his help? Thank you so much!! Your awesome by the way -Madison

Warnings: Burns, injury, swearing. 

Words: 1,191

Tags: @hooked-onfandoms  

A/N: I need more passive-aggressive Harry Hook being a caring boyfriend in my life seriously 

When you are as clumsy as I am, injuries tend to happen a lot. Most of the time, it’s nothing serious. Just a scrape here or there, maybe a sprain or something; maybe a cut every now and again. Nothing serious. 

However, I hit a whole new low when I had dropped a pan of boiling hot water onto my arm which caused a really nasty burn. And can I just say that it hurt like a fucking bitch? 

Part of me didn’t even notice when the initial burn happened, it happened so quickly. But then when the pain started, it was there. 

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck shit fuck.” I hissed as I held my hand, biting my lip as hard as I could to keep from tearing up. I could handle pain but even this was a son of a bitch. 

“[Y/N]!” Uma yelled and I heard the doors to the kitchen open, and I quickly grabbed a towel and threw it over my arm to keep Uma from seeing the burn. “Get out here, people are getting pissy,” Uma said, going to grab a plate to get an order together, and I nodded and quickly got out there. 

Throughout the day my arm continued to throb, although eventually, it ended up going numb so while it didn’t necessarily hurt, it still felt extremely uncomfortable and after my shift, I went over to the Lost Revenge to meet up with my boyfriend, Harry, looking at my arm and sighing some because I knew Harry would flip if he saw the burn, he always overreacted when I got hurt. 

I mean, it was a pretty nasty burn, but I’ve had much worse injuries in my life and it wasn’t like my skin would fall off. 

As I approached Harry’s cabin, I put a jacket on and hissed when the fabric of the jacket rubbed against my burned skin, going up to the door and opening it. “Harry!” I called, smiling when I saw him laying on his bed tossing a small ball in the air and catching it. 

“Aye, well hello there, me beautiful siren,” Harry said when I entered the room, causing me to smile and roll my eyes; siren was his nickname because when he found out I could sing he always tried to get me to sing for him. 

“Well hello there, my handsome pirate,” I said, smiling at him and going to sit on the edge of the bed, laughing some when he grabbed me by my waist and pulled me down so I was laying on top of him, but the way he did it caused my forearm to hit the bed which made me yelp out in pain, causing Harry to immediately look at me with worry. 

“[Y/N]? Are you alright, baby?” He asked softly, looking at me and sitting up, and immediately I silently cursed myself. 

“I’m fine, don’t worry…just I sprained my wrist earlier and it’s still a little sore, you know me! Clumsy clumsy!” I said to try to get him off my case, not wanting him to check my arm. Although Harry was a lot of things, and stupid was not one of them. 

Harry gave me a small look to tell me that he didn’t believe me. “[Y/N], tell me the truth. What happened? Let me see your arm.” He said, to which I moved my arm behind me.

“Harry, really, it’s fine. You don’t need to look at my arm, it didn’t hurt that bad honestly, it was more shock than anything.” 

“[Y/N]. Take. Off. The. Jacket.” Harry hissed as he looked at me, the two of us having a stare down when I said nothing to hint to him that I was going to refuse. 

After about five minutes of the two of us just staring at each other angrily and not saying a word, I finally let out a sigh and ran my fingers through my hair. “Do you really want to know what happened?” I finally asked, getting sick of this game that the two of us were playing. 

“YES!” Harry said, him obviously frustrated with me to which I frowned, taking a deep breath and slowly taking the jacket off and biting my lip as it rubbed against the raw skin, Harry’s eyes widening when he saw the burn. “Holy fuck, [Y/N]! How in the hell did you manage to do that?!” He said, grabbing my arm and gently looking at it. 

“Some hot water in the restaurant, it’s alright…it just hurts a lot. It’ll get better.” I said, pulling my arm away since him poking at it didn’t exactly make it feel better. “Harry, really, stop worrying. It’s fine. Besides, not like we can go to a doctor.” I said bitterly, shrugging and going to lay down. “You might just have to deal with the fact my entire forearm will be a scar.” 

“I don’t give a shit about that, [Y/N], you know that. But that is a bad burn. You need to get it disinfected and wrapped up properly at the least if that gets infected you could lose your arm.” Harry said, shifting so he was straddled over me, forcing me to look at him. “Please let me take care of that.” He begged. 


“[Y/N], I know injuries. I know how easily they can get infected, especially on the Isle. Come on…please, let me clean that, baby. Besides, it’ll heal faster if it’s taken care of.” He begged softly as he looked at me, his deep blue eyes pleading with me to do as he said. 

Finally, I sighed and gave in, looking up at him. “Fine.” I complied, following him up to the infirmary that was on the ship and watching as he grabbed the makeshift first aid kit, hissing as he poured some alcohol on it. 

“Oh stop being a baby.” He said as he did what he needed to do, neither of us saying anything the rest of the time he was fixing my arm. “Why didn’t you tell me? I tell you every time I get hurt severely.” 

“It’s not severe. It’s a burn.” I said, sighing and knowing that this would have happened. 

“Your skin is blistering, [Y/N]. It is serious. Do you see how red it is? You have at least a second-degree burn on your arm right now. You should have come to me, or at least told Uma or something so you could get medical attention right away.” Harry said, finishing wrapping my arm up before placing his hand on my cheek, to which I nuzzled my face into his palm. “[Y/N], I love you so much, if something were to happen to you, I don’t know what I would do… I know you think you can handle injuries, but please promise me from now on that you’ll tell me when you get hurt. Even if it’s a silly sprain.” He chuckled. 

I rolled my eyes and looked up at him, smiling some as I stood up to kiss him. “No promises, Dr. Hook.” 

tea-and-tipulidae  asked:

So I don't want to be the client that's like "I know you're the expert that went to school for this, but I read about it on the internet so I know more than you." But I also know that sometimes I've disagreed with a vet on something that I'm PRETTY sure I'm right about (declawing, for example). How do I tell a good vet from a bad one? I go to one now that I think is pretty good, but I just wonder if I only think that because they agree with my preconceptions.

In medicine there are many shades of gray and multiple ways of doing something. Without the proper training it can be difficult to determine if something is “right” or not and the internet more often than not gets it wrong. Unfortunately now days it is very easy for something to get put up online that spreads and gets taken as gospel when it is far from the truth. I applaud people that take time to read up and learn but it isn’t the same as being trained in that subject. Reading something on the internet does not ever make anyone more knowledgeable than someone that went to school for a specific degree. Ever.

There a few things to look for though. Does your vet at least offer the very best medicine? That means if your dog is vomiting, a good vet will take a thorough history and suggest blood work or maybe radiographs.

A good vet always provides pain relief when an animal might be in pain.

A good vet will recommend testing a lump and not just look at it and say it’s fine. This is often where the internet and reality diverge. To most people the better vet is the one that simply gives medications and doesn’t bother with “expensive testing”, however without knowing what is wrong with your pet they are actually doing harm. Often the cheaper vets are truly not the better ones, they are simply perceived that way.

Good vets take time to answer questions and make you and your pet feel welcome and cared for. Good vets do this for all of their patients so sometimes will run late  because they are helping a client or have to ask you to email or call in with your other questions so they can move on to the next.

Good vets will refer you out to a specialist if they know they are not the best person to take care of your pet.

Good vets recommend preventative medicine like vaccines, fecal tests, annual blood work, etc.

Good vets truly care about your pet and when they know there is no other option, will suggest euthanasia to end any suffering.

Good vets don’t provide treatments or advice over the phone or internet without seeing your pet because they know they could do harm.

Good vets are often the ones that commit suicide because they simply cannot deal with the hatred and vitriol they are all too often treated to. Instead of sacrificing their morals ,they sacrifice themselves.

Night Shifts. [Smut]

A/N; I am so sorry that this took me ten million years to write. This wouldn’t have been possible without the bad influences in my life! ( @we-are-like-a-timebomb ,  @writing-obrien . @dumbass-stilinski and the wonderful @mandylove1000 <3 ) Enjoy! xoxo 

Pairing: StuartxReader

Author: thelittlestkitsune

Warnings: NSFW.

Word count: 5,716

Listen to this.

Originally posted by never-ever-stop-for-anyone

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With All My Heart - Part 8

Word Count: 3003

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Medical Situations

A/N: Tags are closed. Unbeta’d. All mistakes are mine. 

Feedback and constructive criticism always welcome and encouraged

With All My Heart Masterlist

“You sure you’re gonna be ok with me gone?” Jensen asked for the 500th time. He was packing his bag to leave for PhoenixCon and while you didn’t really want him to go you knew he couldn’t disappoint the fans to stay behind with you.

“Yeah, it’ll be fine.” You reassured, wrapping your arms around him from behind and resting your head against his shoulder. “Emma will be here and Gen is gonna come by when Emma has to work so I’m pretty much covered. Plus, the dogs will keep me company.” You glanced over at Oscar and Icarus, who were both staring at you intently.

Jensen spun in your arms and put his arms around your neck, checking your face to see if you were lying. “Sorry the doctor said you couldn’t go. I really thought she’d say yes. You’re doing so well.”

“Yeah. Me too.” You sighed. “Plus, I’ve been getting a lot of people asking me on Twitter and stuff about singing since I did it in Rome. I was actually kinda hoping I’d get to do it again…”

“Wait.” Jensen stopped and blinked, pulling away from you while he continued to pack his clothes. “You actually…were planning on singing with me? Like on stage?”

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Yeah, Right!

OK. Just Pump Me. I Want You To Use Your Bike Pump.

I Said I Want You To Use Your Bicycle Pump.

Here. My Arm

Yeah. I Only Want To See Bicep.

Put The Pump In My-Vein, Yeah. Right There.


It’s In. Now. Pump.

And Pump.

And Pump.

Yeah. My Whole Vision-Field.

My Field-Of-View Is Growing To Three-Hundred-Sixty Degrees As My Eyes Inflate. Yeah.

OK - It’s Getting Bigger.

I Can See Inside Myself.

I Can See Inside Myself.

My-Neck Is Like A Thick Tunnel. Yeah.

You Could Drive A Train Through This Neck.

Try It.

Yeah, Try It. Drive Your Train Through My Neck.

Keep Pumping, OK?

This. ^

Yeah Do That. Keep Pumping. Grunt…






I’m -

black sails characters as memes

flint: we die like men

silver: get you a man who can do both 

anne: how about i do anyway?

max: self care is x

jack: me an intellectual

eleanor: cash me ousside howba dah 

vane: nut button

black beard: surprise motherfucker

rogers: damn daniel

thomas: cinnamon roll

miranda: take a fucking sip babes

madi: bitch i might be

billy: 1000 degree knife

randall: *stuffing bread sticks into purse* i have to leave right now immediately


How to make custom “books” for decoration!

So today, I put together a little spell book for all my witchy spell business, and I thought “I wish I could have this on a bedside table in Animal Crossing, and then it hit me! 

Firstly you’ll need the in-game item “New Nintendo 3DS”. Make sure to get an “unbranded” one. You can get these from the RVs of the special characters like Tom Nook or Isabelle. These can be customized to be black or white, and you can also change the faceplates to a custom pattern!

So here is my pattern for my recreation of my spell book. When you’re creating it, you want to design it to be turned 90 degrees to the right, and only use the top half, which makes 32x16 resolution. Here I illustrated not to use the bottom with a red box, lol.

(What goes in the bottom half doesn’t matter, it basically doesn’t exist once applied to the 3DS.)

Now that you have your design, just take it to Cyrus and have it customized! Now it’s important to note that the 3DS can only be customized to be black or white, so that might take effect on your design. Keep that in mind!

Here’s what it looks like in game, rotated, on a table. It’s a little hard to see in this screenshot as it’s small and been doctored, but in-game it’s a very nice addition to my room and a nice little nod at my new-found witchy side.

And here is what my spell book looks like in real life, just for comparison!

If you use this method, let me know! I’d love to see the books you guys create!

Acquaintance: So I’m interested in being a zookeeper - what jobs are open right now? Can you put a good word in?

Me: I mean… what experience do you have? Do you have a biology related degree?

Acquaintance: I just LOVE animals and I’ll do anything to work with them! Just please get me a job!!

Me: This is a career path, it really goes beyond just one job. Have you done any research? There’s a lot of factors here…


Originally posted by udislove


We’re queer nihilistic 20-somethings
and can you blame us?
He’s a line cook, but sells drugs on the side.
“I’m a white kid” he says,
“worst I’m gonna get is a slap on the wrist.”
And it pays enough for a few community college credits.
She’s spending money she doesn’t have
on a degree that people promise will take her far.
But right now all it looks like
is an unpaid internship answering phones
and night shifts waitressing to try to get by.
Watching more and more of her friends graduate,
and come back to bussing tables with her.
And I’m doing fine
except my friends are talking about dying
and I wanna change the world,
but how can I if I can’t even save them?
But we’re all getting by, we swear.
Nothing to worry about here.
We’re just queer nihilistic 20-somethings
seeing psychiatrists when we have the money.
Checking in on each other when we don’t.
Hoping the world makes a bit more sense
before it kills us.
—  J.H.
Sugar Daddies and Finals...

With finals in the next few weeks my stress level is through the roof. I really have to watch what you say out of stress to your Sugar Daddies because they’ll think you’re too stressed to hang out with them. I’m a nursing student, this shit ain’t easy. I wish Sugar Daddies just understood that if you get me for a few hours or even dinner, that they could just be happy…Four weeks that all I’m asking. 

They get all weird if you can’t spend the AMPLE amount of time with them when THEY want it but LOW AND BEHOLD they can travel for weeks without paying you and think it’s okay…..


1) Finding Sugar Daddies that are in your field of study is God sent.

Blink is a doctor, Feline Felix is a dentist… they get it. Tony Louboutin helps people buy planes…. Although he understands he wanted to wait till I was finished, aka you want to find someone else to ease your sexual tensions for money. lol Smooth recoveries right there. 

2) Make sure you have a good vanilla job to cover if you can’t see your SD.

When I first started as a Sugar Baby, I didn’t NEED the money because of my vanilla job (that I left eventually) I just wanted fun money and cool shit that I could never afford on my own. Serving or bartending a good vanilla job. You don’t have to claim cash tips OR you do and slip in the Sugar Baby allowance you get as proof of income. (You’re welcome…goodbye IRS audits). Right now I’m looking to get out of my sports bar and back into a better paying job to pay for stuff myself again.  

3) Your Sugar Daddy’s are temporary but your degree is FOREVER. 

Remember that. Get your shit in gear and get that degree! 

Sometimes I have to put that into perspective myself. If losing an Sugar Daddy income over good grades happens, oh well. My degree will eventually pay me WAY more than a Sugar Daddy can and I can rely on myself than these greedy, flaky sugar daddies one day. 

4) In the meantime…

Send your daddies extra love, sexy pictures whatever to make up for your absence. The good Daddies will understand completely. 

Hope this helps and GOOD LUCK ON YOUR FINALS! 

I love you all xoxoxox


But Mike Pence...!!!

People asking who would be the “worst” Republican president—Trump or Pence—are as foolish as people asking is racism “worse” from northerners or southerners. It’s a false choice. Anti-blackness destroys black lives no matter WHO it’s coming from, and when you begin thinking that one evil is “more acceptable” than another, just because it’s coming from a “different” person, then you’ve already lost the argument and any moral high ground.

Similarly, the people now saying “But Pence will be worse than Trump” are also mistaken…….it’s almost like they’re incapable of thinking beyond a binary “lesser of two evils” mindset.

Forget the “lesser of two evils” for a moment. Focus on doing as much good as possible, and focus on doing what’s right: Trump very obviously broke the law. Repeatedly. And for that he deserves impeachment, and he needs to be removed from office. Period.

It’s completely unsurprising that many Democrats, so used to fighting from a position of weakness, are actually arguing to keep a Republican POTUS in office—you would never ever ever catch Republicans making up those excuses with Obama or Hillary Clinton, no matter who their VP was. Republicans would not hesitate if the roles were reversed, and they were given an opportunity to impeach a Democratic president caught breaking the law and committing treason.

This is an easy decision. Super easy. Please stop trying to make it into some complex equation.

Just do what’s right.

If we can get Pence after Trump’s impeachment—and it looks like he’s just as culpable in knowingly taking Russian assistance—then we go after him too.

It really is that simple.

Keep reading


Guys…im not a fitness/health advice blog. I love helping sometimes but im an ART/personal blog. I would love to beat yalls asses and educate you on everything the media and ads tell you is wrong but i dont want to spend my free time doing that?????

I am working hard to get a degree to help people in school already. All my free time PER WEEK which totals to 2-3 hrs right now is used for streaming/drawing. Which is the only thing that keeps me sane lol.

This blog is for fun, art, meeting new people, and sharing my shitty doodles.

If you REALLY want advice then shoot me an email. Just realize i can only help with getting healthier. I cant help you cure anything.

  • ❝ at what point did we as a society decide it was okay to put your fucking make up on with a paintball gun?? ❞  
  • ❝ I’ll alert the media shall I? ❞
  • ❝ Jesus fucking christ it’s only wednesday. ❞
  • ❝ what time is it acceptable to start drinking? ❞
  • ❝ i woke up murderous today, I don’t even know why. ❞  
  • ❝ is it coffee time yet? ❞  
  • ❝ she does realise it’s dress down, not dress like a hooker, right? Maybe someone should tell her. ❞  
  • ❝ i volunteer as tribute. ❞  
  • ❝ i done it last week I don’t volunteer as tribute. ❞
  • ❝ well that’s an hour of my life I’m never getting back. ❞  
  • ❝ i really hope no one listens to that call I muted him twice to call him an asshole. ❞
  • ❝ look, a mocha is not coffee. It’s chocolate masquerading as coffee and frankly I’m offended. ❞  
  • ❝ what the fuck is wrong with people? ❞
  • ❝ why are people so stupid? ❞
  • ❝ what kinda fucking moron barbecues inside? ❞  
  • ❝ no it’s fine, I love doing other people’s jobs. ❞  
  • ❝ what kind of magic sorcery is that?? ❞
  • ❝ oh my god when will this day end?? ❞
  • ❝ I’ve already accepted that i’m going hell, so fuck it, i’m in. ❞
  • ❝ is it friday yet? ❞
  • ❝ shouldn’t evolution have weeded out that kind of thing by now? ❞
  • ❝ i emailed you, ignore it until i come talk to you. ❞
  • ❝ where the fuck did he get his degree, a christmas cracker?? ❞
  • ❝ i can’t even look at you right now. ❞
  • ❝ i’m so angry i could punch babies, i mean not literally, babies are cute, but people. i could punch people. ❞
  • ❝ i like ruining peoples lives, it’s fun. ❞
  • ❝ i’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that. ❞
  • ❝ fuck my actual life. ❞
  • ❝ oh my god, it’s too early for this shit. ❞
  • ❝ yeah — can you like, say that again because i know i look like i was listening but i honestly have no idea what you just said. ❞

anonymous asked:

EVEN WILL BE FINE YOU TAKE THAT BACK TAKE THAT BACK RIGHT NOW.. 😭😭😭😭😭 I know I've always known Even was gonna be hurt this series.. Leave me alone. You Better love on him in your fic I CAN'T TAKE THIS

I’m just interpreting the teaser. In Noora’s teaser, Julie basically hinted at the entire S2 plot.
If we follow that same logic, she’s telling us what will happen:
- Sana causes Noora to trip (one can assume Sana does some scheming thinking it’s in Noora’s best intention but like.. nah…)
- Shit goes down
- Everybody kind of gets affected to different degrees (domino effect)
- (The song says Sana has good intentions)
- Even bleeds (basically gets hurt the most lmfao) (but Isak is there for him)

I work in a kitchen and the air conditioner in the back broke and my work is refusing to fix it. It’s damn near 100 degrees back here right now and we haven’t even reached the worst part of summer. (Where I live it reaches up to the 120s in the worst part of summer.) 

Is there anything that I can do about this? It’s making workers sick and the people in charge don’t give a shit because their section of the resort has working air. 

Fourth Christmas

the series is as follows so far:

FirstSecond ThirdFourthFifthFifth Christmas, Part 2SixthSeventhEighthNinthTenthEleventhTwelfthThirteenthFourteenthFifteenthSixteenthSeventeenthEighteenthNineteenthTwentiethTwenty-firstTwenty-secondTwenty-third


She hadn’t decorated that year. She’d flown out to California with her mother several days before Christmas and wasn’t supposed to return until just before New Year’s so she made the executive decision to leave her decorations in the closet.

Mulder had also refrained from decking her place out in her absence.

It was fairly difficult for him.

But then he got the phone call, had to fly out to her and all manner of holiday cheer was forgotten, shoved to the wayside in the wake of news he never expected to turn out anything but bad.

Now, they were just leaving the airport, January 3rd and the world depressed around them. They rang in the New Year piecing together a funeral, Scully holding him at arms’ length while she pushed her mother away completely, choosing to sit idly in his hotel room rather than face champagne, fireworks and Dick Clark. He’d cracked open the mini-bar in the room and paid an exorbitant amount to help Scully drink her sorrows down, drowning them for a few precious minutes in cheap whiskey and off-brand gin.

They’d left for their plane right from the church, Scully having once again told her mother that she was fine traveling home without her. Maggie had been not-so-subtly hinting about staying a few extra days with her new grandson and given Scully couldn’t picture being trapped on a plane beside her mother for six hours minimum, she paid extra, informed her mother she was leaving with Mulder and walked away, trying not to think about the funeral they would have to attend first.

The flight was quiet but not awkward, surprising given the last two weeks of their lives. Mulder, to his astonishment, felt a small, cold hand slide over his arm, her fingers fitting between his like they were meant to be there, as they took off. He didn’t react, thought, except to twist his hand upside-down, palm to palm, weaving knuckles, warming bone.

Disembarking the plane, they entered the insanity of National Airport and Mulder all but curled himself around her, blocking her from running passengers, shopping bags, backpacks, rogue rolling luggage, that mumbling guy that seems to be in every airport they’ve ever been in, just wearing a different hat. Guiding her to baggage claim, he grabbed their bags, clearing a path she trailed close behind in as they aimed towards his car.

Finally, eventually, they were on the road, Scully small in her seat, Mulder quiet in his, until, “is it strange that it feels like it was never Christmas?”

Worrying his cheek between his teeth, he shook his head, “not really. I mean, you got out there and the world went weird, then surprising then completely terrible and now you’re back home in January and you never had time to stop and realize it was Christmas.”

Head back against the seat, she let her face fall towards the window, away from her partner, “I don’t want to go home, Mulder.”

“Then we won’t.” Instead, he took them to his apartment, opening her door for her, taking her hand as she stepped up the curb. Soon, they were in his place, door safely locked behind them, Mulder gently guiding her towards the bedroom, “go take a nap. I’ll go back out and get some food for this place and when I get back, we’ll have dinner and watched Christmas movies until March.”

She had a protest crawling up her throat but it never saw the light of day as she nodded, defeated by the world and uncomfortable in her own skin. Walking first out of her shoes, then pulling off her sweater to reveal Mulder’s Care Bear t-shirt she had stolen, loaned back and commandeered once again, she made it under the covers before she began to cry. Watching her from the doorframe, he gave her a minute while he pulled his own shoes off, relinquished his overhead, closed the blinds to the falling twilight as well as the soon-to-be-glowing streetlights. Finding the box of Kleenex in the living room, he set it beside her on the nightstand, then leaned into her, hand on the mattress, “do you want some company or would you like me to go find some food?”

Her non-committal, soggy, shoulder shrug gave him his answer and without another syllable, he climbed up and crawled right over her, jostling her, accidently-on-purpose rolling her onto her back, t-shirt chest smushing her nose, blankets all bunched by the time he went horizontal beside her. She was still crying but her lips were curled up instead of down and that was progress in his book.

Once he’d gotten under the covers, straightened them, made sure they were tucked around her opposite shoulder tightly, he manhandled her lightly, rolling her the rest of the way towards him, tucking her head against his shoulder, “hit me if you want me to go away.”

Then he cried with her.


It seemed hours until she finally fell asleep, the last bottled up 11 days pouring forth in an ugly catharsis of Kleenex, sobbing hiccups and soaking wet cotton until she finally passed out, mouth open, nose congested, eyes so puffy he’d be surprised if she could see anything the next morning.

He wouldn’t trade her for a damn thing.

Inching out of the bed, he got his shoes back on and disappeared out the door, food and other things on his to-do list.


It was well after midnight before he fell asleep on the couch and after 3am before he felt the softest of kisses on his cheek, then the heavier of kisses on his mouth. The quiet ‘thank you’ made him open his eyes, deciding he would be a terrible person if he followed her mouth for another kiss but the debate was there, the contemplation, then, her lips on his again, just the corner of his mouth but it held warmth and promise and tasted a little like Almond Chicken sauce.

“You found dinner.”

“I did find dinner.” Sitting on the coffee table, she leaned forward, elbows on knees, “and I found Christmas.”

Smiling so wide his eyes disappeared in crinkles, “I couldn’t let you not have Christmas.”

Scully pointed over her shoulder, “you broke into my house again. That is not the reason you have a key.”

Behind her, her tree was twinkling beside Mulder’s desk, lights, ornaments, stockings, candy canes all stolen from her hall closet and apparently transferred, while she was dead asleep, from her place to his and set up, spewing forth Christmas joy where there hadn’t been any when she went to sleep.

“I do that.”

“I see you added garland. Where in the world did you get garland after Christmas?”

“Magical elves and post-holiday blow-out sales. I could have also bought 1.2 miles of Christmas lights for $.60.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Where the hell would I hang 1.2 miles of Christmas lights?”

“We could have made it work.”

Sitting up, he patted the couch beside him, “come here.” She scooted to him before he continued, “how’s your head?”

“Throbbing. How do my eyes look?”


Her barriers were still down, as they tended to be more and more around him and without pretense, she shifted her legs over his lap and leaned into his upper arm, “I found the new ornament.”

It was a glittery snow globe of Santa on a beach, feet up, reindeer lolling on his back in the sand.

“Bought it a few weeks back and was just gonna slip it in your box when I was over next and then, well, this seemed better.”

Hugging his arm next, “I love it. Thank you very much.”

Once his arm started moving, he wasn’t about to stop it and soon, it was around her shoulders, his feet on the coffee table, his other hand on her knee. Giving it a small squeeze, “I think we should pretend that we are couch potatoes whose world extends no further than this apartment.”

“Can it extend into tomorrow maybe?” Looking at her watch, “we only have 3 hours until we are supposed to leave for work.”

“Are you suggesting Christmas hooky?” Simply nodding her ‘yes’, he ‘hmm’d’ his agreement in his throat, then rested his head against the top of hers, “any of that Chinese food left?”

Muscles tightening to stand, he held her in place instead, “that wasn’t a hint to go get me food. I’ll get something later. Right now, I like you here and me here and … I like us … right here.”


He was almost back asleep, head heavy on hers, when he heard her say something. Not opening his eyes, “what?”

“How can I miss her? I knew her for less than two weeks.”

“But she was your daughter. Doesn’t matter how long you knew her.”

“How do I know if I miss her as a person or as an idea?” He could hear the waver in her voice, “what am I supposed to do now?”

“Right now,” turning her in a twisty, contorted, shifting, sliding kind of way, he managed to get them both lying on the couch without either falling on the floor, “I think you should stop thinking and close your eyes,” gripping her and turning her a few degrees until her hip wasn’t digging in his parts, “and listen to my voice while I tell you,” now running his finger lightly over her eyebrows and forehead, “a story,” moving his finger over her cheek and chin, “about how Santa is really an alien.”



“I really wanted to keep her.”

Squeezing her tightly to him, he mumbled into her hair, “I know you did.”