i don't know why i post opens no one ever responds ;a;

Imagine: making Tom relax on his birthday

To say Tom was a bit on edge would have been an understatement. With the recent GQ article talking about his previous girlfriend, and more rumors about how long the two of you would last or when you’d break up, he desperately needed a ‘lazy day’. So, you took it into your own hands, and made sure Thomas had nothing planned on his birthday until the night, when he could celebrate with family and friends.

The two of you had been long time friends, and after Thomas recovered from Taylor, you surprised each other by realizing you had buried shared emotions. You avoided the media as a couple, but the important people in your lives knew, and thanks to them, Tom Hiddleston got to have a relaxing birthday.

Said actor was currently in bed, boxers only, well past his normal waking time. His eyes eased open to the soft golden glow coming through the windows, and when he saw your heavenly smile at his side, he knew being 36 was going to be enjoyable.

“Good morning, love… What time is it?” He asked groggily, as he shifted to wrap his arms around your loosely clothed torso. You had taken to wearing Marvel pajamas as a joke with him, and currently, you just had undergarments and his Thor shirt, which was certainly oversized for you.

“9:26am.” You responded, after glancing at the clock. You heard Tom take in a sharp breath as his eyes widened, but you wrapped your arms around his neck and held him close, interrupting his worried thoughts. “Thomas, today is your birthday. You have earned a break, so don’t worry… That’s my job.” You joked lightly, running your fingers through his soft hair, letting your nails massage his scalp. He hummed contentedly at the feeling, letting his eyes close.

“Wh-What about-” he began, but soon felt your soft lips against his, prompting him to react in kind. His hands drifted to your waist and hair, but before he could lose himself in your embrace, you pulled back and smiled sweetly.

“Tom, it’s fine. Everything will be okay.” You reassured, before shifting so you straddled his waist and looked down at him, planting your hands to the sides of his head. “You deserve the world, but today, rest should do the trick. I’ll make some tea, pop in a movie or find a nice record, and we can while the day away doing whatever you want… except working.” You explained, your voice low and silky. Tom stared up at you with wonder in his eyes, as he let out a string of soft chuckles and reached his hands up to brush back your curtain of hair.

“What did I do to deserve you?” He asked, his voice wistful and loving. You chuckled lightly and leaned down, pressing your soft mouth to his in slow kisses. After a few seconds, you parted, but remained a breath away.

“You didn’t have to do anything… Now, any ideas for the day, birthday boy?” You asked with a growing grin. Thomas knew you were determined to give him a relaxing day, so he happily accepted that gift. However, he did have some plans of his own for you.

“Oh, darling… this is going to be the busiest day off we’ve ever had.”

Bonus OT3 Drabble: Slinky


This. This is entirely the fault of @blackkatmagic and @nellynee, and this ask-post over on blackkat’s blog. Because I just cannot resist the challenge of ‘why break up one ship for another when you can have both as a healthy triad?’ So I wrote it, even though I never actually got far enough to meet two-thirds of this ship in canon, and most of the characterisation is based on blackkat’s fics (although probably not half so good as hers).

Because really, who could resist this; “Spunky young power couple seduces village creepy shut in. Everyone is confused.

OT3 for this prompt: Minato/Orochimaru/Kushina from Naruto.

“If I have to sit and listen to you gabbing on about weird obscure jutsu, then I’m going to do it over ramen, you know!” Teuchi smiled at the sound of his best customer approaching the restaurant, presumably with her boyfriend in tow. Sure enough, when Kushina pushed the curtain aside, she was preceded into the restaurant by a sheepish looking Minato. Kushina followed, pulling another man in after them by the wrist.

The redheaded jounin manhandled Konoha’s own snake sannin into the seat next to Minato, then plonked herself down in the seat on Orochimaru’s other side. “You didn’t have to sit and listen.” The man snapped at Kushina, clearly very annoyed with her. “We are quite capable of holding a conversation without you.”

Kushina scoffed at him, flapping a hand. “Please. Minato wouldn’t know what to do with you if I left the two of you alone for more than five minutes, you know.” Orochimaru failed to come up with a retort, looking baffled and irritated in equal measure.

Minato, on the other hand, turned very red and started spluttering. “That’s not- You can’t just- What are you- Kushina!” The last word came out as a whine, and Minato dropped his head against the counter.

“Don’t be such a ditz, pretty boy.” Kushina chided, and then turned to Teuchi before Minato could respond. “The usual, please, Teuchi-san! Plus whatever this awkward turtle wants.” She nudged Orochimaru with her elbow to indicate who she meant. It was a good thing she had, because ‘awkward turtle’ was not a descriptor Teuchi would ever have applied to him on his own. He started cooking up Kushina and Minato’s usual, even as he raised an eyebrow at Orochimaru.

Orochimaru ignored him in favour of glaring at Kushina. “He’ll have the shoyu tamago ramen with extra eggs.” Minato put in, recovering from embarrassment as fast as he ever did. It was a good thing he could do that, Teuchi thought, since he was dating someone like Kushina, who got a kick out of embarrassing people.

Orochimaru switched his glare to Minato. “I don’t recall asking you to order for me.”

“Did I get it wrong?” Minato asked, caught somewhere between innocent and smug. Obviously he hadn’t, because Orochimaru looked twice as likely to murder him, but conspicuously didn’t say a word. Minato beamed like the sunrise. “So, you were explaining the connection between space-time seals and blood jutsu?” He prompted brightly. Orochimaru sighed heavily, but answered with a long explanation that went entirely over Teuchi’s head. It clearly didn’t go over Minato’s head, because he was staring in rapt attention as Orochimaru talked, in a way that made Teuchi feel oddly like he was intruding on something private.

He served up their ramen, and was not surprised when Minato and Orochimaru mostly ignored theirs in favour of their discussion. He was surprised when it took Kushina several seconds to lift her cheek off her fist and stop staring at them long enough to start scarfing down her usual three bowls of ramen. She caught his look the first time she came up for air, and shrugged unrepentantly. “What? They’re total dorks, you know, but they’re my dorks now.

Orochimaru choked on his first bite of ramen. “Excuse me?” He demanded.

“Well, you are, aren’t you?” Kushina asked, smirking. “We’re a package deal, slinky; buy one get one free. If you want to get some this evening, instead of just staring at Minato like he’s a prime steak and you’re starving, you’re going to have to learn to dance with both of us, you know.” She paused, her smirk slowly unfurling into a predatory grin with far too many teeth. “Last chance to run screaming.”

The stunned look on Orochimaru’s face turned, once again, to murderous annoyance. “I think I should be saying that to you.” He hissed, leaning forward into her personal space to loom over her. Teuchi was a bit worried, although on whose behalf he wasn’t quite sure.

Kushina laughed, and shocked just about everybody when she closed the distance between them and kissed him. Minato whimpered quietly, staring at them with his mouth hanging open, while Teuchi was just trying to figure out when the world had gone insane. Kushina drew back looking infinitely smug. “Bring it on.”

anonymous asked:

oh honey, don't lash out at people with that "you're not looking for a man" shit when you're posting about how much you want a relationship and how you're finally ready for love. i mean the receipts are all over your site! once you find reciprocal love I hope you're not so damaged from the years of loneliness to realize how fulfilling it can be and why most people make that their primary relationship. don't give up!

LOL this is a very thorough attempt at reciepts, i admire yr attention to detail

i mean yeah i’m dating and i’m ready for and open to love, but there are still many presumptions about what this means we need to unpack:

1) i don’t practice love in a way that it is reduced to exclusively romance, and i don’t reserve my love for romantic partners only

2) i am reciprocally in love with many people and it is really wonderful!!! i really recommend it!!

3) the desire for a relationship is not the desire for a relationship that ends in marriage, monogamy, cohabitation, or other traditional and normative markers of a love geneology. i am still trying to figure out what kind of relationship i want, and i really don’t think i would ever want to live with a partner, much less marry them.

4) i think a lot about my long-term relationship goals and desires. i have discovered that my only (or primary) desire to get married would be to respond to all the rejection and trauma i have internalized as such, to find comfort and stability within a relationship. and it’s related to my Leo desire to be eternally adored and worshipped. these are not healthy reasons to enter a marriage.

5) it’s a bit neoliberal to assume my engagement with marriage would be equivalent as others. i am not so naive to assume that all bodies engage with institutions the same. 

6) the clearest envisioning of the type of romantic love i want to have is one that does not detract from my relationships with my friends, and one where i can maintain my own sense of identity of and independent relationships with people, one where my partner(s) do(es) not automatically fold in to my friendships and friend groups. this does not cohere to the ways most people use marriage.

7) again, my critique is less about marriage as a whole, or as an independent institution, but about how people seem to use it as an excuse and event to restrict and delimit their care and interdependency to only their romantic partners, and the implications this has for the long-term survival of those of us without partners

i know this is a lot, and can potentially be destabilizing for those deeply invested in traditional or normative relationship structures. let me end this by saying,

oh honey, don’t lash out at people with that “how fulfilling relationships can be” shit when you’re anonymously close readings peoples blogs and sending them anonymous and presumptuous messages. i mean the reciepts are all over this message! once you read this I hope you’re not so damaged from the years of internalized normativity to realize how fulfilling expanding our definitions of love and relationship can be and why most people are so committed to them as a product of colonization and method of distracting us from collective liberation. don’t give up!

How to Succeed In Headcanons Without Really Trying

I have been writing fanfic for years upon years, since before Tumblr even existed. Something that has always existed, but I’ve seen a lot in my tenure on Tumblr, is this “Gee, I wish people wiould write about X/Why isn’t anyone interested in this aspect of character Y?/ I’m so tired of being the only one who ships z!??” *

Generally, my response of tenderly grabbing their laptop and going, “Ohhhh….wow!!! You have access to…both google docs and tumblr??? Did you know??? That is all I use??? To write fanfic???” Is not particularly well met. Must be something in the wording.

So, finally, something helpful: A guide to getting the writing you want without having to pick up the slack yourself. (I assume art is similar, but as every time I have tried to art I hate myself, I don’t art, and so I don’t know.)

I’ve put these, in order, from most to least effective


Literally the most effective way to get what you want is to pay for it. My Patreon has commission-level on it (Though I think it’s all full right now) and I’m sure other writers take commissions. This is 100% guaranteed to get whatever you want written about written about. I don’t care what my comissioners ask for. Want me to write about how Michiru doesn’t eat sea creatures because of a strong emotional kinship? Great. 2,000 words on Pharah’s obsession with lawn croquet? Love it, fabulous.


If someone writes something with even a shade of what you’re looking for, gush about it in the comments. Writers are, at heart, 85% lost children who want love and affection. Even if a fic contains other things you don’t like, if you comment, excited, about how “Wow I love love love how you talked about Tracer’s Sonic the Hedgehog lunchbox!! What an amazing character touch!” The writer will very likely remember this, next time they sit down to write, and it will become more of a recurring theme in their work. I try very hard to do this with any kind of character take I love. Reward them for doing what you want!


Most/many writers take prompts from time to time, so when they ask, feel free to put it forward! This is the least effective because a) Some writers only take prompts from lists (although, fellow writers, some of my best stuff has come from an ‘open call’ prompt, so consider taking them.) and b) they always have the right to ignore your prompt if it doesn’t speak to them.

These three things are, as I see it, the most helpful ways to get the characters takes that you really crave out in the wild, without ever having to write it yourself. Other writers can throw in their two cents, but by and large, I will add that your posts about “why doesn’t anyone talk about Y?” make me never want to discuss Y ever again, roughly 78% of the time. Don’t try to guilt trip the writers you’re trying to convince! I know rewarding with the carrot and not the stick is a weird concept for this hellsite, but trust me: We respond really well to flattery.

*I’m not talking about legitimate criticism of ableism/racism/homophobia in shit, and you all know I’m not, don’t be deliberately obtuse. (I have a whole ‘nother post on how “I don’t like this”/ “This is not how I see this character” does not necessarily equal problematic and this website’s difficulty in separating the two, BUT THAT’S A DIFFERENT POST )

BittyParse Accidental Marriage

Someone had to make a ‘married in Las Vegas’ Au, so here it is:

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It’s defined as a lack of sexual attraction, with the exception of where strong emotional bonds are present, or only experiencing sexual attraction once a strong emotional bond has been formed.

But apparently this is a really difficult concept for some people to wrap their head around, and lots of different arguments are made about how it’s “not a thing”…

“Demisexual isn’t a thing! Where’s the science? Where’s the psychological research? It’s just something tumblr made up!”

I hate to break it to you, but things exist, whether a scientist has validated them or not. Up until the 80s there was legitimate scientific research done by highly esteemed scientists which suggested homosexuality was a mental illness and unnatural and damaging to individuals and society. That was a scientific fact of the time. So was that the truth then?

If you think that the bias of science is a thing of the past, you’re either incredibly naive or just plain ignorant. Science is not some all-seeing, constantly objective force in society. It is influenced by and used to justify sexism, racism, ableism and multiple other forms of oppression. So I literally couldn’t care less if no scientist has a written a paper titled “Science now says Demisexuality is indeed A THING.” Queer and transgender identities have existed for as long as people have, but they’ve only very recently been ‘validated’ by science. Do you think that queer and trans people suddenly popped up into existence as soon as the first scientific paper in support of them was published? Of course not. Do you see where I’m going with this?

A group of people discovered they had a shared experience with their lack of sexual attraction and the way they experience it. So they put a name to it and told other people about it. Now it’s clear that a multitude of people experience the same thing, and were grateful to find that there was a word for their experiences, and they weren’t weird or broken.

“Everyone is basically demisexual because most people won’t sleep with someone unless they’re emotionally attached to them.”

No, what you’re taking about is how most people wait until an emotional bond is formed to act upon already existing attraction. Most people, for reasons ranging from religious, to cultural to simply personal preference, would not have sex with strangers and/or would only engage with somebody sexually after they’ve got to know them or got close to them (for a lot of people, that means forming a romantic bond). But that doesn’t make them demisexual. If everybody was demisexual, one night stands, porn, sexual advertising and hypersexualisation/objectification wouldn’t really exist.

If you’re still struggling with it, imagine them as asexual, until occasionally, after they’ve fallen in love or got close to someone they might start to experience sexual attraction. People who are demisexual do not experience sexual attraction. Zip, zilch, nada. The only exception to that would be some occasions when they’ve formed an attachment to somebody - maybe they’ve become close friends, or maybe they’ve fallen in love. And it doesn’t mean that everyone you form emotional bonds with you become sexually attracted to either; just like allosexual people aren’t attracted to everyone in the world, it’s just as hit and miss with demisexuals. Once an emotional bond is formed - that is when the possibility for sexual attraction opens up.

Some demisexuals might only ever experience sexual attraction once, with one person they’d formed an emotional bond with. Others might experience sexual attraction with almost everyone they’ve become romantically attached to. They’re a very diverse bunch of people.

“Demisexuals” are just special snowflakes! They just want to feel special / they’re not oppressed / they’re not queer.

I’m getting really tired of this “special snowflake” bullshit, particularly being aimed at the asexual spectrum community. I have been a part of this community for about a year, and have been on tumblr, still sharing and seeing posts about the asexual spectrum before I realised I was asexual for almost 3 years now. In all of that time, I have never come across people using lesser known acespectrum identities, like demisexuality, to get people to feel sorry for them or to claim they’re being so oppressed. The overwhelming majority of people respond to finding a word that accurately describes their sexuality and experiences is ‘omg I’m not a freak, there’s actually a word for me!’

Don't Talk Down To Me..!

Prompt (from phanfic): “Phil’s been stressed with dealing with all their bills and BBC contracts so Dan, who’s never learned how to do them, wants to help out but Phil just eventually snaps at Dan and pretty much talks condescendingly to Dan because of how much younger he is and because he doesn’t know how to do "simple adult things” so Dan gets really upset and offended and snaps back at Phil before storming off and yes comfort at the end thnx"


oneshot, angsty cuteness, fluff, dan running his fingers through his hair all frustratedly aah(◕‿-)

wc: 2.5k ish

tw: none

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How to Talk to Anyone (for at least a few minutes)

So there’s this post going around tumblr  that says,

you know those people that can literally carry on a conversation with anyone are amazing like wow how do you do that

And while I know this is one of these tumblr rhetorical questions, I bet a lot of people would like to know the answer.

I travel a lot and spend a lot of my time talking to people at hostels, people I’ve never met before and might not ever meet again. I find that people are generally at their best when they’re talking about something that they love. The trick is to find out what they love and get them to start talking about it.

Look at small talk as the time to cast about for something to actually talk about. Most people drop hints, either consciously or unconsciously, about what they *actually* want to talk about. You should listen carefully so that you can take advantage of an opportunity.

For example: Imagine you say to someone, “Gosh, this weather is just out of control. I didn’t know it even could snow this much!” And the person responds, “I know! I can’t wait for the spring to come so that my flowers will grow.” You can answer, “Oh, do you garden?” If the person really does garden, s/he will probably like to talk about it.

Or maybe the person responds to the same prompt, “It’s awful! I had to dig the car out for hours before I could run out for an ingredient I needed.” You can reply, “Oh, do you like to cook?” Even if they don’t like to cook, the story about why they had to run out for an ingredient might be interesting. The point is, you get away from talking about the weather and get on to talking about ANYTHING else.

Even if they don’t give you that specific of an opening, you can still use a similar principle. If you say, “It’s so cold out! I can’t believe it!” And the person says, “I know! I can’t wait for spring.” You can respond, “Do you have plans to do anything special once the weather warms up?”

I know these examples are really cheesy, but I’m just trying to get across the idea that it’s often easy (or at least, easier) to get people talking as long as you ask them about things that they like. So if you’re stuck in a situation where you have to socialize with people you don’t know well, that’s one way to do it. The drawbacks are that you might end up in a conversation that doesn’t excite you all that much, but as I said, people are often at their best when they talk about what they love, so you might enjoy the conversation even if it’s not about something that *you* love. And it’s likely that later on the person will remember you as someone who was nice and easy to talk to.

Hope that helps!

Before You Know It [Drabble]

Title: Before You Know It
Fandom: BBC Sherlock
Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Reader
Word Count: 894
Warning(s): None
A/N: post-S04E02
Also, sorry if it’s a bit OOC and/or sloppy.

“Do something while there’s still a chance-”

As John’s warning replayed itself in his mind, so did a familiar face. The same one that had flashed across his memory the first time he heard the words, but he had quickly dismissed it then. But now, in the quiet of his flat, he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

It wasn’t Irene Adler. No, it was another woman, whom’s presence was made clear to him the moment she stepped into the room. A presence that was not unwelcome.

In fact, he rather enjoyed spending time with her. She wasn’t at his level of intellect, but she has proved herself to be plenty helpful at times. She was smart in her own ways. And she was nice and a bit more tolerant of his attitude than most others would be.

And she was beautiful. Maybe she wasn’t a model, but Sherlock would find himself watching her laugh and think it was the most adorable thing he had witnessed. He loved her smile, and her eyes, and the way she talked, and-

He shook his head once he realized he had been smiling, but then again he didn’t want to not think about her. It was a bit strange. She was a distraction he couldn’t deny.

Yes, maybe just as ludicrous as it sounded, Sherlock Holmes found himself falling for someone.

And that someone was (Y/N) (L/N).

“-because that chance doesn’t last forever.”

If John had realized that Sherlock had an attraction to a woman that was just down the street, he was certain to drag him to her door and wait on the sidelines as he confessed to her. That was why he was for once pleased with John’s absence. Sherlock was barely able to admit to himself that he was even capable of holding such love for another person in this way- in no way was he ready to admit it aloud, or to her of all people.

But maybe he shouldn’t hesitate. Maybe he could take John’s words into deeper consideration.

Anything could happen. Anything could get in the way. Anything, at any time, could take her away from him or vice versa. Sherlock knew very well there was always a chance something could snatch them away from each other. He couldn’t protect her from harm, not twenty-four/seven.

But he wanted to.

The thought of something happening to her made his stomach turn until it was almost physically painful. Even seeing her so much as simply saddened had him feeling a sympathy he had rarely felt prior. (Y/N) should always be smiling, and laughing, and crying with joy but not pain. He liked being around her when she was happy; she always had the ability to brighten the often desolate atmosphere of 221B Baker Street.

He also liked being the cause of her happiness. When he did something that made her laugh, whether intentional or not, it made him happy.

This was definitely strange for Sherlock. But nonetheless, he knew what he was feeling.

And he wanted to tell (Y/N) he loved her, while he still could.

“Trust me, Sherlock, it’s gone before you know it.”

Sherlock hesitated at her door. The walk to her house, despite however he tried to delay it, was much too short for him to get all of his thoughts together. He had next to know idea what to say, which made him feel a bit too uncomfortable and even nervous.

The only things he had learned about love and romance he had picked up from John and Mary’s interactions, subconsciously studying them while they were together to try to get a better understanding of the matter. He knew he couldn’t just tell her straight away, not without throwing her off and making her uncomfortable as well. And in no way would he be cheesy about it- that was definitely out of the question.

Improvise it would be, then.

Sherlock knocked on the door rather loudly, sighing heavily and laughing at himself. Never would he have thought he would ever end up in a situation remotely similar to what he was about to do. He never thought himself capable of love. Not like this, at least, and not so strongly.

(Y/N) opened the door and a small, almost concerned smile graced her lips. “Hi, Sherly,” he narrowed his eyes at the little nickname, and when she blinked he caught sight of a playful twinkle in her eyes. “You look… better.” She stepped aside and invited him in with a wave of her hand.

He nodded.

“… I take it well, then? With John?”

Again, Sherlock nodded. Refusing to meet her eyes, he occupied himself with looking around her small apartment, noting he had probably interrupted her cleaning.

“Someone’s being uncharacteristically silent. It’s strange.” She tapped him on the shoulder but he still didn’t respond the way she would have liked him too. She stood in front of him so she could see his face better but stopped when she saw that he was thinking about something, an almost distant look in his heterochromatic eyes. “Something wrong?”

Sherlock looked at (Y/N), his brows furrowed as he quickly went over his options in his head. Then his face relaxed and he turned so he was fully facing her.

“Before. You. Know it.”

“(Y/N), there’s something I have to talk about with you.”

Master List

[not my gif]

Originally posted by cumbersnitchflabberbatch

la-mia-amico  asked:

Hello. I'm a huge fangirl and also a HUGE fan of your fanfics. I was wondering if I could request a Tadashi x reader story where in there's like this dance or something but then Tadashi wasn't able to come because of work but when the reader gets home, he surprises her there (it was dark but the apartment was filled with candlelights) and then they just have this incredibly romantic dance. (I'm a sucker for romance)Thanks so much for the Tadashi/Hiro feels. Please don't stop writing!

Sorry this took so long to post!  But here you go!

You walk into your boyfriend’s lab with a knock on the glass door to alert him of your presence.  He looks up and smiles when he sees you.  “Hey, Beautiful,” he greets, standing up as you walk over.  He places his hands on your hips as he leans in to kiss you.

“Hi, Tadashi,” you say to him with a smile.

“How were classes today over at USF?” he asks.

You shrug a shoulder, “School is school.  Nothing too interesting happened.  The only thing really, which is why I came over to ask you, is that my school is having a dance and I was wondering if you wanted to go.”

Tadashi raises an amused eyebrow, “Your school has dances?  I thought that whole thing ended after high school.”

You roll your eyes at him. “Normal schools have dances, Tadashi. Yours doesn’t only because everyone here is too wrapped up in their technology projects to notice that there’s still a world revolving outside their window.”

“Hey!” he protests, slightly insulted.

You laugh and cup his cheeks with your hands.  “Calm down, I’m only joking,” you pull his face down to yours to give him another kiss. “So, what do you say?” you ask.

“When is it?”

“Next Friday.”

Tadashi frowns and gives you his sad puppy look.  “(Name), I’m so sorry…”

You frown as well, “What is it?”

“Aunt Cass is going to be away next weekend and she asked me to cover the shift at the café on Friday for poetry night.”

You try not to let your disappointment show on your face, but looking up at Tadashi’s reaction, you can tell you aren’t doing a very good job.  “Oh, that’s alright.  It was just a stupid dance, anyways.” You try to wave it off.

Tadashi’s arms wrap around you as he pulls you into his chest.  “If I had any faith that Hiro could run the café for me, I’d ask, but I seriously don’t think he could do it without burning the whole place down.”

You laugh lightly, “Yeah, that’s probably not a very good idea.”

“I’ll make it up to you,” Tadashi promises.

You pull back enough to look up at him, “You don’t have to do that.  There will be other dances.”

He leans down to kiss you again, “I’m still making it up to you,” he insists.

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Halloween 2016 #5: I Will Be Known

Length: Short

Technically, I’m a doctor. And yet, despite all the cliché movie scenes we’ve all seen, I’ve never once been asked to help someone in public.

Well, okay, that’s a lie. There was one time, but I took too long grinning to myself playing it out in my head while some surgeon responded before I could say anything. Fucking surgeons. Always saving people, getting all the thanks even when they’re not even operating. Half of them are on drugs when you’re under, you know. But I’m rambling.

Oh, how I’ve longed to be the one to save the day. To be famous, if only for a moment. It’s really all I’ve ever wanted.

I’m sure some of you have had similar thoughts. Rescuing a cat from a tree. Saving a baby from a fire. Knocking out the criminals during a bank robbery. Being the hero. Getting your image posted around the web, having your name said in hundreds and thousands of households. Receiving letters from dozens of admirers praising you for your bravery, your courage, your ability to act in a time of need.

What’s that? Aren't I a doctor, don't I save people? Get the same kind of pride from helping the weak, the sick, the wounded?

Bitch, I study allergies. And I’m not even on the front line, giving out inhalers and epi-pens. I sit in a lab all day researching how to make a more effective pill or a less irritable nasal spray.

Yeah, not exactly the most glamorous position.

But tonight… this Halloween I have a chance. You must know many impetuous children out there simply can’t deal with holding their goodie bags without stuffing their faces as they trot about from house to house. And it is through them that I shall place my name in the annals of history.

As the little bastards smile with glee upon the opening of my door, the security of my legacy spreads. I don’t even mind that most of them have no idea what my costume is. Why I look like a bird man with goggles and a funny hat. But they’ll learn soon enough.

They’re all far too excited about each king-size candy bar I’ve handed out to notice the teensy tiny little hole in the wrappers. The one I used to inject my latest discovery, a sort of hyper-histamine I’ve been calling the uber-allergen. It’s contagious, even.

I breathe in deep, the wonderful scents of dozens of herbs and spices filling my lungs as a smile creeps across under the mask. You know what they say: if you can’t be the hero, be the villain. Well, by this time a week from now, my name shall be known. As it should be. After all, I’m a doctor.


Credits to: Zchxz


Pairing: Bucky x Reader
Words: 660
Warnings: None

Your name: submit What is this?

You both sit on the couch, your feet resting just at his side, your elbows on the arm rest. Bucky is clearly attentive to whatever is playing on the television screen, but you have since been eyeing him. His hair, specifically.

For the first time in your peripheral sight, his hair is pushed away from his face and is splayed behind his neck. You curl your fingers into a loose fist to limit the temptation to run them through his locks, but you soon learn that it’s not enough.

You sit up straighter and lean closer to him, clearing your throat lightly. “Hey, Buck?”

He turns to you in question.

“Can I braid your hair?”

His mouth falls open agape, but he’s unshaken. “No,” he answers blandly.

“Please,” you say.

He turns back to the TV screen. “No.”

You huff, leaning backwards again. “You get to play with my hair.”

“That’s different,” he replies.


He snaps his head toward you, a loose strand of his hair falling in front of his face. “Because you actually enjoy it!”

That’s true. But you instinctively reach out and push the loose strand of his hair behind his ear. Your fingers linger, curling a strand of hair in between your index and middle. He watches you with solidity, but he shockingly remains still. “You stand corrected,” you say quietly.

He puts on a feigned glare and whips your hand away. You frown and lean forward to rest your head on his shoulder, lacing your fingers through his.

“I like you a lot, you know that?” you murmur. He doesn’t respond. “And I’d do anything for you.”

“Then let it go, Y/N.”

You press yourself closer to him, but he doesn’t try and force you away. “Do you know who sings ‘Let it Go’? Elsa. And she’s got a killer braid.”

“I’m so sick of that movie.”

“Me too,” you say. “You know what I’m not sick of?”

He doesn’t ask. Not that he needs to.

“You. And your amazing hair.”

He shuts his eyes and exhales deeply. “Fine. Fine — knock yourself out,” he says.

You grin and pull him into a quick kiss before you hop onto the back of the couch. You run your fingers through his soft hair, a familiar scent filling your senses. Your lips pull into a smirk before you begin to braid.

As soon as your finished one half of his head, you start on the other side and notice how content he seems.

“See? And you thought you wouldn’t enjoy it,” you say.

“I’m used to you tugging at my hair.”

“When have I ever — ah. Never mind.”

“What are you doing, anyway?” His right hand goes up to his head and touches the finished side of his head.

“I’m braiding. You’ll see. I’m almost done.”

He sighs and lets you continue. Another minute passes, and his hair is completely done: two French braids tied off in a short pigtails. You purse your lips to refrain from giggling.

Slipping your phone from your pocket, you open it to the front camera and wrap your free arm around Bucky while holding out the other at an angle. “Smile, sweets.”

He looks up into the camera and his eyes widen when he sees what you’ve done to his hair. However, it’s brief, and he simply stares into the camera. You snap a photo quickly before you slump back down to your seat beside him.

“You’re not gonna post that, are you?”

“I am,” you confirm with a sly grin. “You look cute, James. Like always.”

He presses his palm to the braid again, frowning. “I don’t like it.”

“Now you sound like Steve,” you laugh, maneuvering closer to him, wrapping your arms around him. “Keep whining and I might just tell everyone you’re using my shampoo,” you murmur.

He pauses. “It…smells a lot better.”

“It’s no wonder why your hair’s been looking so good lately,” you laugh.

anonymous asked:

I'm having all kinds of Reid-being-bullied feels! Could you maybe do something where the reader has been his friend since school. Stuck up for him when he was bullied. Helped keep him sane. I don't really mind whether it's a best friends thing or a romance, but she gets to meet the team. His stories just break my heart. Maybe she works with animals? Sorry the idea is so scattered!!!

Spencer being bullied, oh no!  Alright, I can do this.  Here is your one-shot, comin’ ‘atcha!

“Hey, Reid?” Morgan calls out.

“Yeah?” he asks.

“That story that you told me, when you were bullied in school…” he starts.

“Yeah…” Spencer stares off.

“You never told me how you got off of that goal post,” Morgan states.

“No,” Spencer says as a faint flicker of hope shines across his eyes before dissipating, “no, I suppose I didn’t.”

“You know, if you ever want to-”

“Thanks,” Spencer says, cutting him off, “for the offer.”

“Anytime,” Morgan says, patting him on the shoulder as he squeezes.

The case had been a hard one, dredging up old memories for all of the parties in play.  But for Spencer, it was his most painful memories of high school.  The ones filled with bullying and torment.  Mockery and name-calling.

He wondered whatever happened to you.

He remembered the first time you ever came to his defense.  When Cal, the high school football jock, was calling him names.

Such horrid, awful names.

“Leave him alone!” you had shouted, striding up behind him and stepping in front of his body.

“Oh, so now your girlfriend has to come rescue you!?” Cal had roared as the cheerleaders behind him sneered.

“I’d rather date him than the likes of you any day,” you had bitten back.

“Stupid bitch,” Cal had muttered under his breath as they all turned to walk away.

“You alright?” she had asked, turning around with her comforting Y/C/E eyes, ballooned with concern as you had just stared at her.

“Th-th…thanks,” Spencer had stuttered.

“Not a problem,” you had responded.

And then you had flashed him that smile.

That smile that he would come to associate with his guardian angel all through high school.

“Reid?” Hotch asked, shocking him back from his memory.

“Yeah?” he jumps, turning around with a startled look on his face.

“There’s someone here to see you,” he says.

Furrowing his brow as he looks at the clock, he realizes that it’s just after 8 pm.  Way too late for anyone who doesn’t know him well to know where he is.

Which was no one.

“H-Hotch?” he stammers, running after his boss, “Who is it?”

“Why don’t you just go see?” he says, a shadow of a smile playing on his face as Spencer rounds the corner, his eyes falling on someone he had only seen in his dreams…as a ghost on the road, or the flicker of a distant memory his mind attempted to project as reality.


Turning around, your Y/C/H hair gracing the sides of your face, you smile broadly with the smile he had committed so many times to memory.

The smile that gotten him through the lonely nights.

The smile that sat with him through all of his cases.

Granted, you were a few years older than him, seeing as he was much younger than all of his high school counterparts, but you wore your crows-feet well, and he felt himself longing to kiss the very light indention of wrinkles forming on your forehead.

“I never would have thought…” you trail off, walking towards him as Spencer smiles at the sentiment.

“Yeah, yeah…I suppose most people wouldn’t,” he responds, his eyes dancing across your face.

“You look-”

“…older than you,” you cut him off, your hand coming up to finger the lines in your forehead.

“I was going to say…” he starts as he takes your hand, slowly lowering it from your face, “…angelic.”

“It’s good to see you, Spencer,” you muse.

“It’s good to see you, too, Y/N,” he responds.

“How did you know how to find me here?” he asks, breaking the staring contest between you two.

“A little digging goes a long way, especially when your name happens into the papers every once in a while,” you smirk.

“Yeah…yeah, I suppose it does,” he says through a light snicker.

“Do you…do you live in town?” he asks, shuffling from foot to foot.

“I do now, yes.  I got a transfer to one of the emergency vet hospitals in the area.  I just moved in a few weeks ago.”

“Oh wow, a veterinarian?” Spencer asks.

“Yeah,” you giggle, your cheeks blushing as you look down at your feet.

“I uh…I came by earlier, but a very colorful and vibrant woman said you guys wouldn’t be back until around 8 or so tonight,” you state.

“Ah.  Garcia,” he nods.

“Yeah.  Yeah that’s her,” you respond.

Smiling awkwardly at each other as the two of you shuffle and rock on your feet, you finally open your mouth, blurting out the first thing that comes to mind.

“Are you hungry?”

Recoiling at how loud your voice was, you grimace as Spencer laughs lightly.

“I mean…if you’re not too tired,” you add.

“Never,” Spencer says.

“A-alright…” you trail off, stammering as you look back up at him.

“Well, I guess I’ll…meet you downstairs?” you ask, thumbing behind you at the elevator as Spencer shakes his head lightly, his mind drifting from his memories of you in high school to how beautiful you look, even in the florescent lighting of the FBI office.

“Oh yeah.  Yes!…let me just, uh, get some stuff.  Wait here?” he asks, turning around quickly as he strides over to his desk.

“Hey, Reid!” Morgan calls out.

“Yeah?” he says as he grabs his bag, slinging it over his shoulder as he watches his friend approach him.

“Who’s the gal pal?” he asks, nodding his head in your general direction.

And as he smiles, his head turning back to you as you give him yet another awkward wave, Spencer turns his flushed face back to Morgan as he says, “How I got off of the goal post.”

#1: Don't assume that readings are free.

While there’s a lot of people who do readings for free, they don’t make up the whole divining community. There’s a lot who charge money for their readings, and/or ask for a donation before fulfilling a request. For some, this acts as a source of income, and to try getting a free reading from them even so is rude.

I can think of 4 simple ways to check the monetary status of someone’s offered readings.

  1. Their blog description may have a PayPal donation button and/or a link to an Etsy, Storenvy, or other store where you can pay for readings.
  2. They may have made a post where they announced that they would do readings for people, and this same post may say if the readings are free or not.
  3. There could be a page on their blog which includes that and other rules about their readings.
  4. If there’s no other indicators, sending them an ask or fan mail that just says, “Are you doing readings for free or a price?” could tell you. 
#2: Don't expect them to be on time, but do be yourself.

Timing is weird on international platforms like this. It’s easy for someone’s need for a reading and someone else’s offering to do readings to not be in the same time slot. That’s right–there can be a time limit on readings.

Some people have a big following and/or busy schedules, so it’s more convenient for them to ask that requests come in between time and y time. In my own experience, I can get anywhere from 5 to 37 requests in just a few hours. It’s an each-to-their-own thing when it comes to getting more requests as you're doing the readings, but for the popular and/or busy, it’s bound to be frustrating.

That’s why one may “close” readings after some time. They’ll make a post or put it somewhere in the body of the leftover readings that “readings are closed”. That means they’re not taking anymore requests. Somehow, a lot of people miss these statements and ask for readings even so–or you can have the total opposite happen, and someone will say “I don’t know if you’re still doing readings…” in their request and there’s nothing that says the reader isn’t. The former tends to be ruder than the latter, but that’s for another section.

Trying to get a reading outside the designated time is like trying to shop at a store that’s closed. Like how the reader may still be blogging, the clerks may still be maintaining it, but neither are open for business. 

Like with the money thing, it’s very easy to find out the timing of someone’s offer to do readings.

  1. Check their blog description. It may or may not be bolded, but there could be something short and simple saying if readings are open or not.
  2. Look over the post where they first offered the readings. There may be an interval they specified. 
  3. Look through their blog archive. If they’ve published any readings, they may have included a statement before or after the reading that they aren’t doing anymore. There could also be a number of posts saying they’ve stopped.
  4. Just ask.
#3: Don't ask about big decisions (without discretion).

Divination is not a substitute for a doctor, a lawyer, a pregnancy test, etc. It shouldn’t be the be-all end-all to all arenas of your life. But, while it shouldn’t, for some it’s all that’s available. Not everyone is in the optimal position to deal with what happens in their lives, which is why things like self-diagnosis exist. If you’re in such a situation, take things with a grain of salt and don’t be naive if you get a reading done in place of anything else.

#4: Don't expect more than is possible.

There’s a lot that popular means of divination can’t do. Names can’t be given because Tarot cards don’t have letters assigned to them often, the alphabets for runes and Ogham and Ouija boards don’t include all languages’ characters, etc. Unless the reader’s in a university library, the chances of them finding the name of that deity you’re looking for via stichomancy are slim. That’s just how it is.

Even customized means have their limits. When I do GIF readings, questions seeking a Y/N answer hardly get one. There are GIFs that can respond that way available, but it barely ever works out that way. Rephrasing may be necessary.

#5: Don't be rude, nor ignorant.

Readers vary widely in skill, availability, and accuracy. They may deliver a reading awkwardly. They may not do certain requests. They may misinterpret something. You, as the querent and/or customer, need to be understanding of this.

Everyone’s a beginner sometime, so be patient. Some topics make readers uncomfortable, or for their own sake they delete requests that come in after their set time limit. What gets drawn can be too vague or too specific. 

Then there’s the matter of etiquette. Don’t act like you’re entitled to their time and resources. In the case of paid readings, communicate politely when there’s a delay, and like for #1 and #2, check their blog to see what could explain it. If they’ve closed readings and you know that, it’s more than rude for you to ask for one anyways, and they’re within their right to respond with the same tone–the problem is when it escalates to insults.

Of course, it’s not just querents who can be rude. It doesn’t happen often, but scams are a thing to watch out for. That link talks about precautions for in-person readings so it’s not as relevant as it could be. However, the ways that people can scam for other things on Tumblr can be used by readers all the same. Be wary if a delay for a paid reading goes on for more than a week, with no explanation like that the reader is on vacation or has finals or is having a depressive episode, etc. Depending on how you paid for the reading, you may have to seek outside help to settle this dispute of not receiving the service you paid for. 

Why I love Book 4 Korra’s development

So a few days ago, I made a half-joking post about how Korra’s character understandably changed by the end of Book 4. After months of thought, I’m finally making a post on why, as a woman of color, I am totally here for the change.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

You have a husband, right? I know there are lots of autistics who have great romantic relationships, but I really have no idea how that works out. I can't imagine: a) being with someone who wouldn't get scared off by my meltdowns; b) how to maintain communication, or even a partner's interest in me; c) sharing my life with someone; d) physical intimacy (which I *would* like); etc. I know this is probably internalized ableism, but I don't know what to do about it. So... how do I relationship?

Hi anon. Thank-you for your message. I’ve been working on this one for about a week. It was difficult to order my thoughts on this topic so I hope I did okay. My super long answer is below the cut. Seriously, I think that it’s the longest post I’ve ever written.

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anonymous asked:

question: was the second to last post response just bragging about/reminding that you guys have money? I mean, there was a few other things you could have responded to about that question. but I don't know.

This is one of the reasons why I think people are terrified of talking about money. Even though I tried to indicate that one of the side effects of me saying that I am upper class is me feeling shame and the expectation of scorn, and it still seemed to some people that I was bragging. 

No, I was not bragging. In fact, deep down, I am terrified to ever talk about money with /anyone./ It’s such a massive, problematic thing in our lives. This massive source of legitimized inequality…that some people get to lead more pleasant, stable lives because of something as completely arbitrary as how well you can sell or monetize your skill set. Or, y’know, how well your parents or grandparents sold their’s.

I want to be clear that I have plenty of money because it’s honest and it’s a very easy thing to be dishonest about. It’s an experiment…is it possible to be even a tiny bit open about money stuff as a professional creator who relies on authentic connection with an audience without it getting super freaking awkward and being totally, completely unrelatable? Probably not, but let’s see!

moretomhardy  asked:

So... We've never actually talked... But hi, I saw you ask for prompts, so here's one! Protective Stiles. Maybe Derek gets hardcore hit on while Stiles is around, gets super uncomfortable/mildly panicky when they don't respect his no, and Stiles comes to the rescue. Or maybe it's post-s4, and Stiles is like, "you just briefly died, how about you sit down and get cuddled for a while so I can reassure myself that you are in fact still living."

No worries about never talking before! You can shoot me a message anytime. And my apologies for the extreme delay on this. I’m horrible.

So this started out sort of angsty and turned into a giant ball of fluff. I literally cannot write anything without a little fluff (or a whole bunch). Oops.

Also I used your line cuz it was perfect (and also I’m cheater…oops again).

Anyways, enjoy! (:

Derek stepped inside his loft, the large metal door sliding closed behind him with a loud ‘clang’. It felt strange to be back here. He never thought he would make it back. He was prepared to never return. It wasn’t as if he had a lot of things to take care of or pack away and he kept it that way for a reason. This specific reason. With his lifestyle—he could die at any moment.

But he hadn’t. In fact, something good actually came out of this whole mess. Whatever Kate had done to him…he was freer then he’d ever been since the fire—since Paige. Derek felt closer to his family than ever.

He trudged his way slowly across the floor until he’d reached his ratty couch—the one Boyd had made him buy before…before. With a sigh, he collapsed onto it, letting himself sink into the cushions and his head fall back to stare at the ceiling. His emotions were all over the place. Uncontainable happiness brewed within him at the thought that he could finally shift into a full wolf. Just like Laura. Just like his mother. But things still weren’t all okay. He still had no pack. Braeden had left to search for Kate. Not that what they had was anything really special but it was still nice to enjoy intimacy with another person without the threat of death.

No. Everything was not miraculously fixed and perfect. He couldn’t find it in himself to mope though. Scott was alive and still an amazing alpha. Peter was locked away. Kate was nowhere near Beacon Hills. Things were actually better than they’d been in a long time.

Just as he felt himself beginning to doze, head lolling on the back of the couch, the ticking clunk that signaled the arrival of his building’s elevator echoed through his loft, the large metal door sliding open without warning a moment later. Derek raised his head, blinking slowly to fight away his sudden exhaustion. Stiles didn’t seem to either notice or care though as he slammed the door closed behind him best he could and stomped his way across the room to stand in front of Derek with a clenched jaw and twitching fingers.

“What are you doing here, Stiles?” Derek sighed, closing his eyes again.

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for the one shot contest- 3rd Place Winner
Sorry if its a bit late i only saw your post about a one shot contest last night :)

A helping hand

Fandom: Captain America: The Winter Soldier
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x shield agent!reader
Notes: hurt!bucky, annoyed!reader (slightly), fluff

AN: as I wrote this I was listening to Gone Gone Gone by Phillip Phillips and this is the first thing I've ever written and submitted so I hope you like it :) (and I apologise for any mistakes made) 

After hearing violently loud thumps on the door and arming yourself with your bow and arrow, you threw open the front door and drew your arm back positioning your elbow high in the air and the tip of your arrow pointing directly ahead of you. Spending such a long time as a shield agent you were programmed to think that someone punching your door down at 2:57am meant danger. As it turns out, it was the opposite. In front of you stood Bucky Barnes covered in blood, sweat and bruises and messy hair. You lowered your arm and gently tossed your bow and arrow to the floor as he started to explain himself.
"I'm so sorry about this and the time but I need a hand. Physically and figuratively but I just-"
You aggressively cut him off by hissing, "get your ass in here Barnes and sit over there."
He obediently went and sat down one the sofa in your apartment as you sleepily stumbled over to the bathroom to get the first aid kit and turn on some lights. As you walked back over to the living room, you plugged my phone into the speakers to play some music. 
"Why are you playing music?" Bucky asked quietly.
"It keeps me focused when I'm tired." You replied with a monotone voice.
As you were patching him up, wiping off blood and cleaning his wounds, he stayed quiet and didn't look at you.
"Don't you want to know why I'm all bloody?" He asked even quieter than when he had previously had spoken.
"Not really but I'm sure it's a great story." You reply with a sarcastic edge. 
"After a few minutes if quiet, Bucky quietly spoke out. "Thank you." He said whilst finally looking at you. He gave you a sad sort of smile that gratefulness seemed to seep from. 
"It's okay, just next time could you please wait until the sun rises to get beaten up because that would be much appreciated." You added causing him to give a slight laugh. 
"I'm serious." He said through a giggle as he playfully pushed your shoulder.
"I am serious! I do not agree with mornings and-"
"Shut up." He laughed. It was amazing to see him laugh like this after all he's been through. "Seriously, I wanted to thank you for always taking care of me and making me laugh, it means a lot." He said smiling at you. He reached his metal arm out and slowly placed it on top of your hand which was wiping blood from his right shoulder. The cold of the metal shocked you slightly as it touched the warm skin on the back of your hand. 
"It's okay, really, just as long as your okay." You said smiling back at him. As you pulled your hand away from his you said "And you're all sorted now so we can finally go to sleep, thank God."
After stopping the music and grabbing your phone, you started going upstairs but paused halfway when you couldn't hear footsteps following. You turned to see Bucky laying on the sofa, moving awkwardly to try and get comfortable. 
"What are you doing? You're not sleeping there, it's the most uncomfortable sofa to sleep on in the world and you don't even have a blanket, come on." You said gesturing for him to follow you upstairs.
"What you- you err- want me to share the bed? W-with you?" He awkwardly stammered.
"Yeah, it'll be fine." You responded carrying on up the stairs after you saw him start to follow.
"But won't it-" 
"Barnes if you keep arguing me you'll end up sleeping out on the balcony." You said interrupting him as you climbed into your bed. As you felt the bed dip from him climbing in with you, you heard him laughing slightly and say, "okay, goodnight." 
"Goodnight." You sleepily responded as you closed your eyes.

When you woke up, the first thing that you thought about was the warmth. The bed was warm in a wonderfully cozy way. And that's when you realised, you felt Bucky's body close to your own with your legs wrapped together and his metal arm draped across you, giving you a feeling of safety and security that was so strong you didn't want to admit it. Sleepily and slowly, you opened your eyes to see his face; his eyes were still closed and his long hair hung over his face. Part of his hair hung over his mouth and you watched as it slightly moved as he breathed out. Smiling, you moved it out of the way and closed your eyes to go back to sleep.