i feel like such a prick

The Symbol of Hope

Guys.. this chapter made me realize something while talking with @aoimikans 

Izuku isn’t going to become the Symbol of Peace. That will always be who All Might was. 

When Sir Nighteye tried to look into the future, hoping he saw the boys and Eri escaping and surviving, he saw nothing. 

Which possibly means he passed out, he can’t see a changing future, (Edit: or Chisaki dies - not by Izuku’s hand but by his own quirk), or Chisaki pricked him with the bullets he picked up. 

But I feel that’s less likely since he wouldn’t want to waste them on who he perceived was a dying man. 

But more importantly, what we immediately get as a reply to this blank future is this:

The kid who was Quirkless, whose actions led to him earning a Quirk. The kid who gave back All Might’s will to live. The kid that changed the meaning of Deku. The kid who has helped and changed his classmates for the better. 

Izuku is an agent of change. He won’t be the Symbol of Peace. 

Izuku is going to become the Symbol of Hope. 

The Hero that Bends Fate. 

EDIT: 
Check out @aoimikans AMAZING POST expanding on this and more! 

Mom, my depression is a shape shifter.
One day it is as small as a firefly in the palm of a bear,
The next, it’s the bear.
On those days I play dead until the bear leaves me alone.
I call the bad days: “the Dark Days.”
Mom says, “Try lighting candles.”
When I see a candle, I see the flesh of a church, the flicker of a flame,
Sparks of a memory younger than noon.
I am standing beside her open casket.
It is the moment I learn every person I ever come to know will someday die.
Besides Mom, I’m not afraid of the dark.
Perhaps, that’s part of the problem.
Mom says, “I thought the problem was that you can’t get out of bed.”
I can’t.
Anxiety holds me a hostage inside of my house, inside of my head.
Mom says, “Where did anxiety come from?”
Anxiety is the cousin visiting from out-of-town depression felt obligated to bring to the party.
Mom, I am the party.
Only I am a party I don’t want to be at.
Mom says, “Why don’t you try going to actual parties, see your friends?”
Sure, I make plans. I make plans but I don’t want to go.
I make plans because I know I should want to go. I know sometimes I would have wanted to go.
It’s just not that fun having fun when you don’t want to have fun, Mom.
You see, Mom, each night insomnia sweeps me up in his arms dips me in the kitchen in the small glow of the stove-light.
Insomnia has this romantic way of making the moon feel like perfect company.
Mom says, “Try counting sheep.”
But my mind can only count reasons to stay awake;
So I go for walks; but my stuttering kneecaps clank like silver spoons held in strong arms with loose wrists.
They ring in my ears like clumsy church bells reminding me I am sleepwalking on an ocean of happiness I cannot baptize myself in.
Mom says, “Happy is a decision.”
But my happy is as hollow as a pin pricked egg.
My happy is a high fever that will break.
Mom says I am so good at making something out of nothing and then flat-out asks me if I am afraid of dying.
No.
I am afraid of living.
Mom, I am lonely.
I think I learned that when Dad left how to turn the anger into lonely —
The lonely into busy;
So when I tell you, “I’ve been super busy lately,” I mean I’ve been falling asleep watching Sports Center on the couch
To avoid confronting the empty side of my bed.
But my depression always drags me back to my bed
Until my bones are the forgotten fossils of a skeleton sunken city,
My mouth a bone yard of teeth broken from biting down on themselves.
The hollow auditorium of my chest swoons with echoes of a heartbeat,
But I am a careless tourist here.
I will never truly know everywhere I have been.
Mom still doesn’t understand.
Mom! Can’t you see that neither can I?
—  “Explaining My Depression to My Mother: A Conversation” by Sabrina Benaim
2

I am not a Tokyo ghoul fan but I still feel the need to put this in my blog
this attitude is downright disgusting, nasty and 100% unacceptable, honestly I feel so bad for Ishida!

I don’t know the man that well, but I’ve seen him interact with his fans on twitter before in such a fun and respectful way, I’ve also been here when he took the time to draw a tribute art of one of his fans when she was killed in a tragic accident (Christina Grimme)

and regardless of any of this, no author or content creator ever should have to experience such harassment for a valid decision they made in their own story, bad or good, I won’t understand for the life of me why some fans feel so entitled to someone else’s work like this, especially if it’s over something as ridiculous as shipping! being simply disappointed is an entirely different thing!

what’s ironic about all of this, is that 90% of these fans don’t even buy and support his work legally, this harassment started from international fans before the chapter was even released officially in Japan, and this alone is disrespectful enough, I understand a lot of us don’t have the means to support official releases due to different reasons, but the least we can do is not act like entitled pricks over it

I’m addressing this because for one, it’s horrible! and second, I don’t think the snk fandom is above this at all, I’m just glad Isayama doesn’t have any public social media account and I hope it stays that way

things like this makes me almost hate shipping culture because it’s the main source of all of this, people just don’t know when to stop, close their laptops and go take a walk

the gangsey as scottish tweets
  • gansey: im at the age where people r askin "so what u doin with ur life" n im like mate am genuinely jus here for a laff x
  • blue sargent: issue wi males that think it's acceptable to comment on how a girl looks when she's buzzin am not oot tae be stunnin am oot tae cut mad shapes
  • ronan lynch: i deh trust the dentist when they start talking in code about your teeth to their wee pal, you got suhin to say say it to ma face prick
  • adam parrish: maw n da tryin to shout it ye when ye crack yer phone sayin ye dont look after it aye right fs this hing means more tae me than use do fs
  • noah czerny: had a sick weekend but ad be telling big fibs if a said a didnt feel like a common toe nail
  • henry cheng: imagine the week before yer wedding ye came home fae work early to surprise yer bf and walked in on him wearin bootcut jeans
Wife {Harry Styles Smut}

PAIRING: Harry/Y/N
RATING: R
WORD COUNT: 2900+
REQUESTED: nope !

hello! this is just a quick one shot that i churned out bc i loved the concept and i was rly motivated! i hope u enjoy it! if u do, feedback is greatly appreciated (it rly motivates me) and here’s my masterlist if u want more lol :-)

~*~

Keep reading

Taken for Granted (pt 2)

A/N: I’ll go back to texts in the next part, it just didn’t fit with this part. Want part 3?? LET ME KNOW!

P.s. probably won’t be too active till like next week.

Part 1


You had always been close to the guys…well at least six of them. You had worked as an intern at BigHit when the guys were trainees and eventually debuted. However, you moved onto a bigger and better job, but still managed to stay good friends with the group. You somehow ended up at JYP in hopes of being a manager one day. But you were still one of their treasured friends, and they valued your input towards the group.

You don’t know when the feelings started. Well to be completely honest, you didn’t even realize you had these feelings for Namjoon. But what Hoseok said was true. You were always shy around him, but somehow making him happy became important to you. You noticed all the subtle things about him and studied him like a book unconsciously. Before you knew it, you knew all the things he loved and all the things he resented.

But he became increasingly cold towards you. He never really treated you like the other boys, who were always open and friendly with you. And maybe that’s why you fell for him. Because you had to figure him out and he was always on your mind. He became your favorite puzzle to solve and once it was solved, it became your hobby making sure the puzzle stayed whole and beautiful.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

How would you feel about being kidnapped to become a breeding cow?

i hope it happens to me. i hope i’m thrown into a truck and i come to on a farm, already rigged into a heavy-duty milking sling. i hope i wake up because i’m being bounced around only to instantly realize a man’s cock is inside me, pounding away, and i have no idea how long it’s been going on. i can’t seem to make a sound. i realize i can’t even fully turn my head or see behind me. if i look down i can just barely tell that something’s happened to my breasts. they’re huge now, and swollen, so big that the teat cups suctioned onto my nipples are nearly dragging the ground. someone comes up alongside me and kneels down, and a huge hand reaches out to fondle me. he pulls the cup off my nipple and i just barely see his blurry, too-close face lean down before i feel the stranger’s mouth latch onto my breast and begin nursing milk directly from me. this entire time, the other man’s cock is still moving inside me, pounding toward my cervix so hard i feel an uncomfortable tight muscle contraction deep and low in my belly. i have no idea who he is. i have no idea where i am. …i have no idea who i am. i can’t remember anything. with his free hand, the man sucking my breast strokes my huge, heavy belly. .

i feel the cock slide out and moments later there are fat gloved fingers gently pushing apart my pussy lips, spreading my cunt open so wide it starts to ache. i feel my breast being put back into the pump and one man pats my thigh. i don’t understand the words they are saying. i can’t even remember words. i can feel one man’s entire hand inside me as someone else massages my belly. something sharp pricks me right in the butt, and a few seconds later, everything starts to go hazy again.

A Different Fight

Request: Can I request a peter parker x reader where the reader has gotten into a fight with peter and peter gets a little rough with the reader (like pins reader into the wall very hard and he punches into the wall) and you can take it from there!

Warnings: HECKIN ANGSTY, it gets a tiny bit physical but it by no means shows or romanticizes abuse !! that’s not coolio !!

Pairing: Reader x Peter Parker

Genre: ANGST

Word Count: 1.5k (sorry this one ended up being a bit shorter haha)

Update: I’m so surprised at how many positive reactions this got! You guys are the best :D

Part II can be found here 


To say you had a bad day was the understatement of the century. To start off with, there was an Algebra 2 test that you were totally unprepared for and you had left about half of the questions on it blank, which definitely wouldn’t end up getting you a good grade. At lunch you went to buy some pizza only to find out that you forgot to turn in your food service money and had none left in your account, leaving you very hungry and irritated. Your locker got stuck making you late to 5th period, the water fountain was broken and sprayed all over you, and you got stuck with a burnout for a lab partner. A lot of little things started to add up and by the end of the day you were dangerously close to absolutely losing it. If anyone did anything more to bother you, it was going to send you over the edge. It just so happened that the poor soul was Peter Parker, your best friend who you had a slight crush on for a while.

Peter had told you he would come by your place to work on some homework and just hang out after school. You were really looking forward to it since he was super busy and you couldn’t see each other as often as you would have liked. You waited patiently for a few hours before settling on the fact that he had stood you up. At that point you were completely pissed off. You grabbed your phone only to see new texts from your friends. Apparently there was a party at some senior girl’s house and a lot of people were there including, to your surprise, Peter. You were more than a little hurt. It wouldn’t have been a big deal if he had just cancelled but the fact that he blew you off completely really stung.

About an hour passed before you heard a knock at your door. You answered it, finding Peter standing there with an apologetic smile on his face. Any other day you would have melted at the mere sight of him grinning like that, but today wasn’t like any normal day.

“What?” you asked brusquely. Your hands moved to your hips and you stared at him expectantly. You didn’t really know what excuse you wanted to hear, but practically all of them would have been the wrong answer.

“I came to hang out with you!” he said and pushed past you, making himself at home. “Sorry I couldn’t come sooner, I had to take care of some stuff relating to you-know-what.” You rolled your eyes. Peter told you about being Spider-Man a few months back, which explained how busy he was, but this time that wasn’t going to cut it. You had seen the pictures from the party and there was absolutely no way it involved him like that.

“Right,” you said sarcastically. “I’m sure every party needs Spider-Man there to make sure things don’t get out of control. Tell me, does Liz Allan have a thing for spandex? Is that why you ditched me?” Peter’s eyebrows shot up, surprised by your dark tone. He had never seen you mad before and it both concerned and confused him. At the same time, bringing up Liz was a hit below the belt.

“E-excuse me?” he stammered, his smile fading. “What does she have to do with this? Look, I’m really sorry I’m late but at least I’m here now so can you just let it go?”

“No, I can’t,” you said defiantly. “Don’t try to change the subject. I saw the pictures of you at that party, you can’t deny it.”

“So I’m not allowed to go to parties now?” he asked, his anger rising as well. “What gives, Y/N. Are you jealous of Liz or something? Is that what this is about?”

“I would never be jealous of her,” you snorted. “You’re trying to turn this on me, but it’s not my fault. You think you’re so high and mighty just because you swing around all over Queens in tights every night. ‘Look at me, I’m Peter and I shoot nasty ass spider juice all over the place. Tony Stark loves me and so does Liz Allan”. Seriously, it’s ridiculous.“ Your voice got louder and louder as you went, your emotions getting the best of you. Peter’s eyes dropped to the floor and he balled his hands into fists. You regretted yelling at him like that, but you refused to back down. All of the anger that had built up inside you was finally coming out, and you couldn’t stop it now.

“First of all,” he said fiercely, “I don’t wear spandex and I definitely don’t wear tights. Second, I don’t think I’m better than anyone else. I’ve never said anything like that in my life. I don’t know what your beef is tonight but if you don’t want me here then I’ll just leave.”

“Leave and go where?” you spat. “Back to Liz’s house? Fine, see if I care. I didn’t know Spider-Man was a party trick now, but it’s cool. I’m sure everyone is dying to see you crawl around on the ceiling. Maybe shoot some webs, lay some eggs? Personally, spiders have always grossed me out, but if that’s what the senior chicks are into-” Suddenly Peter slammed one of his hands onto the wall next to you, using the other to pin you back, and you were so startled that your voice caught in your throat. His chest was rising and falling, the veins in his arms and neck noticeably present.

“Stop. Talking. About. Liz.” Peter enunciated every word carefully, his eyes locked on yours. A shiver ran down your spine. This was a different Peter than your dorky and awkward best friend. He was intimidating and tough, and all of his anger was aimed right at you. Never in your life did you ever think you’d see him like this, and it scared you. You knew what he was capable of, and you wouldn’t have been surprised if he had punched a hole in the wall. His arm was pressing into your chest and it hurt. It wasn’t like you couldn’t breathe, but it was still painful and uncomfortable. You were so shocked by it, especially since Peter never touched you without asking first, even just to link arms or something. His gentle demeanor had vanished completely, and that’s when you figured out that you had really messed up.

“Get off of me,” you said hoarsely. “Get off of me right now.” Peter blinked, only just realizing what he had done. His grip loosened and he took a step back, his eyes wide and full of panic. Neither of you really knew what to do next.

“O-Oh god, I’m so sorry,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… I never meant to do that. I’d never hurt you, I didn’t want to hurt you-”

“Peter, I think you should go,” you said, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Your breathing was uneven and shaky, and he noticed it right away.

“Y/N, I didn’t… I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked, almost pleading with you. He took a step toward you and you instinctively backed away. The look of pain on his face made you feel like you had kicked him in the stomach. By then you didn’t even care that there were tears were streaming down your face. You couldn’t think straight, your mind was whirling and you could hear your heart pounding.

“Peter, you need to leave,” you choked out again. He nodded slowly, processing things but still not moving.

“Are you okay?” he asked in a voice just above a whisper. “Please, just… Just tell me I didn’t hurt you at all. I swear I’ll leave right after…” You wiped your eyes and shook your head. You heard his breathing stop for a moment before he took another step backwards. He was crying too and looked absolutely broken. It was all your fault. All of this. If you hadn’t been so grumpy and jealous in the first place none of it would have happened. You told yourself over and over that you needed to apologize, you needed to tell Peter that you were alright and that it wasn’t his fault. For some reason you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it, so you stood there in silence crying as he slowly made his way out the door and out of your house.

The second the door closed behind him you collapsed onto the ground. Your sobs echoed off the walls of the empty room. There was no anger left inside of you, only regret and sadness. You didn’t mean any of the things you had said, you weren’t in your right state of mind, but that didn’t change the fact that you still said them.

Your chest ached, not because Peter had hurt you, but instead because your heart was broken.


Tags~ @nevaehsuga (thank you for the request love!! i hope you liked it!!) @nedslaptop (I don’t really have a tag list yet but i thought I’d add you as long as I was doing it since you asked a while back xx)

If you wanna be tagged in my dumb writing in the future let me know and I’ll make sure to add you!!

anonymous asked:

Just stay with me: marichat?

Marinette huddled under her blanket, her hands clutched around a mug of steaming tea to help fight off the cold. 

She didn’t want to go inside. 

She had thought she had seen the worst of it. She had faced down so many akumas. She had fought against her best friend with barely a flinch of hesitation, knowing that she could do what needed to be done and that everything would be alright. She thought there was nothing she couldn’t handle. 

She had never thought she might have to fight her own mother. 

Marinette huddled further into the corner of her terrace. 

They had been victorious of course. Cleansing the akuma and restoring the city to rights. But while the superficial damage may have been repaired, the emotional damage was taking a toll that Marinette had never realized was possible until it struck at the heart of her own family. 

The attack last night had been all over the news. They always were. The first time the footage aired that morning Marinette had watched in horror as her usually indomitable mother had burst into tear, shutting herself in the bedroom and leaving a silent Tom and Marinette to finish the morning preparation. The normally bustling bakery had been a ghost town, and even though Marinette was off from school her father had told her there was little she could help with and to go enjoy her day off since there wasn’t much to be done.

Alya had insisted that this was normal and would die down in a day or two, sending Marinette several links to articles and interviews she had done on the subject. It didn’t do much to lift Marinette’s spirits, but she couldn’t help but feel an awed sense of pride at the incredible dedication her friend had towards her site.  

Sabine had of course eventually recovered after a few hours. Coming down and joining Tom in the empty shop, but in spite of her attempts to act as though everything was fine, the general atmosphere was sullen. Tom had ultimately retreated to the kitchen to take his frustrations out on a new bread recipe he had wanted to try, and Marinette had retreated to her balcony. 

She felt like a failure. 

She kept seeing the image of her mother- twisted and transformed into one of Hawkmoths minions, glaring at her lunging forward to rob her of her Miraculous. 

It had been by far one of her worst fights. Her mind had been unable to focus, instead racing with questions and wondering if she could have stopped this. 

Thank God for Chat. He had immediately registered her distress and more than picked up the slack, taking the lead for a change. He had forsaken his habitual good humored flirting and managed the battle with a quiet, efficient intensity that she would not have expected from her usually exuberant partner.

It had been over in a matter of minutes, one of their shorter battles if she was being honest. But it had somehow felt like an eternity, and she had barely been able to get through the traditional fist bump before fleeing the scene so that no one would see her burst into tears. 

Now here she was, huddled helplessly against the wind, her face stained with tears that had been falling on and off for the last few hours, ashamed to go inside. 

She heard the sound of footfalls on the roof and looked up expecting to see her father. Instead she was met with the concerned green eyes of her partner. 

“Chat… what are you doing here?” she asked fighting the urge to attempt to straighten up her appearance. 

“I like to check up on the victims after the attacks,” he said collapsing his baton and stowing it behind his back. 

“I wasn’t the victim.” 

“I know. I already spoke to your mother down in the bakery.”

“Oh,” Marinette said, surprised, “How…” she trailed off. 

“She’ll be ok,” Chat said coming to sit down beside her. “She was blaming herself for something she had no control over.” He gave Marinette an assessing glance. “Seems to be a trait with the Cheng women I see.” 

She laughed softly then scooted closer and dropped her head against his shoulder. Too tired and too heartsick to care that she was untransformed and therefore shouldn’t be showing this level of familiarity.

Chat’s eyes widened slightly in surprise but he made no effort to stop her, only adjusting slightly so they fit together in a more comfortable angle. 

“I didn’t know you did this,” she said quietly. 

“Did what?”

“Visited with the victims. It’s very kind of you.” 

“No one should have to go through something like this alone,” he said, “pain is worse if you don’t talk to anyone about it. It can change you, leave you broken. Even hurt the people around you.” 

“You sound like you have some experience on the subject.” 

“I might.” 

She nodded slightly and took a small sip of her tea. “Do you talk to all of the victims?” she asked curiously. 

“No, not all of them. Some of them don’t need it, I’ll go to check in on them and they will already be on the road to recovery. Your friend Alya for example. She had her own ways of coping.” 

“You should have talked to her anyways. You know she would have adored getting a personal visit from Chat Noir.”

“You know in retrospect you are right,” he said with a small smile. “Next time I’m on patrol I’ll make a point of letting her catch me for an interview. Unless you want to make my life easier and just help with a set up?” 

“She’s coming over for a sleepover tomorrow night,” Marinette said feeling warmer for the first time all day.

“I’ll be sure to coincidentally land on your balcony during my rounds. Say around 9:00?” 

Marinette smiled. 

“So, who was the most difficult person for you to talk to?” she asked. 

Chat thought for a moment, his brow furrowing in concentration. 

“Probably the little girl, the one who stole all your dolls, remember?” 

“You talked to Manon?” 

“Yeah, that one was rough. Not gonna lie I went home that night and put together a Hawkmoth dart board. Might have gotten a little carried away. Even stabbed the thing with a fencing sword if you can believe it.” 

Marinette laughed, pressing closer against her partner and he wrapped an arm around her. 

“That’s actually kind of fantastic,” she said, “Do you still have it?” 

“Nah, my father made me take it down. I think it freaked him out that I was violently lashing out what most of Paris thinks of as some unknown mystical super being.” 

“What do you think of him as?” 

“Exactly what he is- some guy in a suit who thinks its ok to terrorize innocent people for his own selfish gain. He might have powers but he’s just an ordinary man.” 

“Like you are?” she said, looking up at him and for the first time desperately wishing she could know the boy behind the mask. 

“Exactly.” 

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Marinette sipping on her tea without really tasting it and Chat rubbing his hand idly up and down her arm over the blanket. 

“Why did you come to talk to me?” Marinette asked at last. 

“Because you looked like you needed a friend,” he replied. 

“I do,” she admitted, hating the pricking of tears she could feel returning to her eyes, “I really do.” 

“Is there anything I can do for you princess?” he asked tenderly, wrapping his other arm around her and pulling her in close. 

“Just stay with me.” 


Look I did angst!!!! Part of my 4 word prompt drabbles. Not taking on new ones atm just finishing the ones I have. 

What It Feels Like

Summary:  Reader hasn’t been kissed in awhile.  Dean reminds her what it feels like.

Characters:  Dean x Reader

Word Count: 845

Warnings: smut, fluff, smuffy, smuffy, smuff

A/N:  I just needed a little quality Dean time.  And this may also be for @charliebradbury1104 who is currently a little mad at me.  Forgive me Liz?

It’s unbeta’d so sorry for any mistakes.  Gif is from Google Search, credit goes to the owner.

Little hairs prick the skin of your fingers as they curl around the back of his neck.  It’s damp with sweat and thicker than you imagined it would be. 

He’s pulling his upper body against your grip, up on his elbows, while his hips meet yours and he rocks into you again.  The pace unbearably slow.

Dark lashes rest on his cheeks and his mouth is making perfect little oh, ah shapes.  When you lift and tilt your hips to match him, his lashes flip up to meet his eyebrows and peridot orbs look down at you with a glint.

“In a rush, sweetheart?” he asks, plunging especially deep this time.

Pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, you bite down to keep from moaning.  He growls, dipping his head and capturing it with his mouth. He sucks your lip in between his teeth, “Don’t tease me with that lip, princess,” he says, teeth still tugging before releasing you and pecking little kisses.  “Now that I’ve got you here I’m gonna take my time,” he smirks.

He rolls his hips and your whole body shudders as you arch into him.  Your mind races as you think about how you got here.

Keep reading

I Still Haven’t Won Against You

[SVT as the Mafia] [ Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]


Jeon Wonwoo x Reader

Summary: Played poker with him once. He lost. He finally got the rematch he wanted so badly but he lost again.

Genre: Mafia AU, smuttish

Word count: 2,590

Originally posted by mc-gyu

You have no idea how you got yourself into this situation. Seemingly only a few seconds ago you were afraid to go out of your house, hoping not to meet him and the next he had you pinned against the wall, making you feel all sorts of things. And now! Now you’re sitting, playing that stupid strip poker he came up with it. Luckily for you, you were so much better at this, still having all your clothes on. You watched him take off his shirt and throw it on the ground. You took the wine glass and sipped your drink, hoping he won’t notice you staring.

“How the fuck I keep losing against you is beyond me,” he sighed, leaning his head against the armchair. “I need another drink.”

He stood up and went to the kitchen. He kept doing that every time he lost, getting more and more irritated when he came back. Mostly because his phone has been ringing non stop all evening. You heard him argue with someone again before he hung up and continued the trail of thought he had.

“It’s been like what? The 5th time I lost now?” he shouted from the kitchen.

“6th,” you corrected him.

“And here I hoped I will get to see you in all your glory,” he pouted.

“Keep whishing,” you thought, standing up and picking his shirt up. You put in next to his other clothes. At least he still had his pants on. You noticed something fall out of the shirt and bent down to pick it up. You couldn’t believe this. It was a card. That sneaky bastard was cheating all this time! But you still managed to win, the goddess of fortune was on your side.

“You weren’t supposed to see that,” startled, you jumped up. You didn’t feel him approach you from behind at all. You turned around to look at him.

“What’s this? You cheater ~” you teased him, waving the card in front of his face. He quickly snatched him from your hand.

“You left me no other choice.”

“Yeah right! I knew you were a cheater. I noticed it the first time we played.”

“Oho!.. You noticed? The first time?” this caught his attention. He took a few steps to you, still holding the wine bottle in one of his hands. “Were you watching me?”

You started blushing, of course you were. He was sitting right across you but that wasn’t the only reason. He took a few more steps to you, till you hit the table with your back. He set the bottle on it, cornering you between his hands. You put your palms against his well toned chest in attempt to push him off a little but he kept his stance. You could feel his heart beating.

“Were you?” he whispered to your ear, leaning closer.

“Weren’t you?” you retorted. A smirk appeared on his face as he looked you in the eyes.

“Caught me red handed,” he breathed out. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you to him. “That’s what makes you special,” he said, before clashing his lips with yours. You didn’t know what you expected but you must say the wine tasted better off his lips. He pushed you to the table, before lifting you up and setting you on top of it, only then breaking the kiss but he still was so close, you could breathe in his air.

“Are we too drunk or do you really want this?” he whispered. You hooked your legs around his waist and you chuckled as he kissed you again, picking you up and going in the direction of his room. “I will take that as a yes.”

You heard his phone ring again but you two completely ignored it. He threw you on the bed, almost falling on top of you. Your hair spreading everywhere.  He took a few strands off your face, stroking them gently.

“Shit, with all this obsession to play with you, I never got the chance to tell you, how beautiful you are,” instead of letting him see you blushing, you used this opportunity to get another kiss, yanking on the tie he still was wearing for some reason, you ran your tongue over his lips.

“So needy,” he breathed out before going in for it. As he swirled his tongue around yours, he tugged your hair slightly to allow better access. He pulled away to get some air but you two were still connected by a slim trail of saliva. He bit down on his lip.

“Shit,” he said, nibbling down on your ear, sending shivers down your spine. He continued from the ear down to your neck, kissing and sucking on your skin, making sure to leave marks. You could hear his phone going off in the distance.

“Don’t,” you panted out, raking through his hair with your fingers. “Don’t answer.”

“I wasn’t planning to,” he said, shoving his knee between your thighs, he got one hand under your skirt and began hiking it up before you stopped him.

“How about you start from the top?”

“How about you don’t interrupt and let me take care of things,” he smirked, getting a hold of your arms and pinning them above your head, still doing what you suggested. He began unbuttoning your shirt but he quickly got tired of it and quite literally ripped it open.

“Wonwoo!” you whined, “This shirt was expensive.”

“Don’t worry, I will buy you a thousand more like it, after this,” he took it off and threw it on the ground along with his tie. You couldn’t help but notice how stunned he was.

“What? What is it?”

“They’re perfect,” he said more to himself than to you. He cupped your breasts. “So perfect, they fit right into my hands.”

“Wait for what you will see when you take this off then,” you teased.

“Can’t wait to find out,” he unclasped your bra. As if knowing what’s going to happen tonight you even put on the one that opens up in the front. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was just him but somehow you didn’t feel even slightly embarrassed exposing your half naked body like that. He went straight for one of them, planting kisses and sometimes sucking harshly while kneading the other. He pulled away, admiring his work, he brushed over the marks he left, making you fell sparks all over your body. Your breathing hitched as you couldn’t take the tension anymore.  

“Wonwoo-“ you whimpered.

“You asked for this yourself,” he teased, getting one of your nipples between his teeth and biting on it, making you moan.

“I would prefer if you were louder,” he took it whole into his mouth, you could feel his tongue snake  around it, when he released it with a pop. You immediately realized what it was. His phone. Again.

“Don’t you dare,” you ordered.

“Those pricks,” he hissed before giving you a quick peck on the lips and standing up.

“Wonwoo!” you shouted after him. What an asshole! Is he seriously going to leave you hanging like this? You lay down on the bed waiting for him to come back. After listening to his shouts who were incomprehensible from this distance, for at least five minutes, you clasped your bra back on and took your shirt from the ground, putting it on. You got off the bed and went to where he was. As you got closer you could hear the bits of the conversation.

“I said I’m not coming a hundred times today… No… No, it’s not about her… Can’t you just raid them and be done with it?.. Why am I even needed?.. No, you listen to me you motherfu-“

“Fuck!!” he shouted, smashing, his phone on the ground. His chest was rising from heavy breathing. You could see that he was pissed. Something that still scared you.

“Those idiots can’t do anything without me,” he clenched his fists, before turning around and noticing you standing in the doorway. He came up to you and started buttoning your shirt up.

“Is everything okay?” you asked him.

“Yeah,” he said, avoiding your gaze. “Work,” he simply stated.

He had trouble with the buttons though because he ripped half of them off a few minutes ago, so he got his shirt from the armchair, where you placed it before. It was way too big for you but you loved it, it had his smell rubbed off on it. He buttoned you up all the way to the top and you felt like a child, letting him dress you up like that.

“Is that it? Just like that?”

“I’m sorry but this is important…” he sighed. “I must say that this is way harder for me than for you.”

You caught up with what he meant right off the bat, sparing a quick glance down to his waist. He went to the hall to get your shoes and you closely followed after him.

“I already called for your ride back home, so don’t worry about that,” he explained. He gave you your shoes but you didn’t feel like putting them on. “Please don’t get mad… I feel like… I finally got to talk to you, even touch you without you running away… I want to know that I still have a chance.”

You didn’t know what to say, him saying those things didn’t feel like him at all, you were used to seeing him all cheeky and sly so you just gave him a smile while he guided you to the elevator. He went inside of it and gave you one last passionate kiss, he looked you in the eyes still holding onto your bottom lip with his teeth for a while before stepping out and pressing the button for the ground floor.

“When?” you asked.

“Be patient,” he said, as the door closed.

▲▼▲▼▲

As soon as you were alone you pressed your head against the cold metal wall of the elevator. Oh my god! Were you about to have a one night stand with your ‘stalker’? That’s so not like you. Or could it have been something more? You were completely spaced out that you realized you need to get off when other people started getting in. You walked into the lobby and ignoring the looks people were giving you, started putting your high heels on.

“You must be Y/N.”

“Jesus! Don’t scare me like that!” you looked up to see a man, almost as handsome as Wonwoo is.

“I’m Seungcheol. I will take you home. Come with me,” he said, going to the exit. You quickly finished putting your shoes on and followed after him.

“Were you the one who called him just now?”

“Nope. He has his own things to take care of,” he opened the back door of his car for you.

“Can’t I sit in the front?”

“It will be safer if you sit in the back,” he said. You decided not to argue and got in. The back windows were tinted. Maybe that’s what he meant. Why are you so trusting anyway? At least you can blame it on you being quite drunk if anything happens.

“I live on-“

“I know where you live,” he said, looking at you through the rear view mirror and starting the engine. “Wonwoo told me all about you. Actually the only thing he has been talking about for the past months was you.”

You wondered what he knew and if Wonwoo and him are close. You decided to use this opportunity to find out something about him because he seemingly knew everything there is to know about you.

“I heard he lost against you,” he was the first to speak again. “That was a big surprise for all of us. He hadn’t lost in ages,” he laughed.

“Is that good or bad?” you asked him.

“Depends,” he gave you a quick glance again. “What were you two doing up there?”

“Why cards?” you changed the subject quickly.

“It’s almost the only thing he’s good at. He got himself in a pretty nasty situation. He needed money. The easiest way for him to get some was poker,” he took a sharp turn and you slid down the seat. You found the seatbelt and fastened it. How fast is he driving?

“What did he need the money for?”

“If you don’t know this, it means he didn’t tell you on purpose. I guess if he wants to, he will tell you yourself one day,” he shrugged. After taking a few more turns, you were already home.

“Last question,” you said. “Who are you exactly?”

“I’m the leader.”

“The leader?” you repeated. “Of what?”

“He never told you that too?” he started laughing again. “Then the only thing I can tell you right now is that I’m his boss.”

Is he serious? Leader? Boss? What the hell is he talking about? Both of them are suspicious after all.

“Getting serious though,” he said, turning in his seat and sending you a glare. “I hope I never see you again. You distract him too much,” he leaned over the seats and opened the door for you. “Now, could you please get out of my car?”

You gave him a quick thanks and stepped out, slamming the door shut. You watched him speed away, down the street. Rude.

▲▼▲▼▲

He told you to be patient but it has already been a few weeks till your little get together. You had to finish these documents by the end of the week but everything from the clock to the thoughts of him sidetracked you. Someone knocked at your door and you got up from your place on the sofa to go get them. You looked through the keyhole and opened them with the speed of light.

“Wonwoo?” you questioned.

He came in and kicked the door close with his feet, wrapping his arms around your waist. He started kissing your neck and you had to push him off.

“Wonwoo are you drunk?” you could smell the alcohol from here.

“I need you,” he said, embracing and holding on to you tightly. He nuzzled his head in your neck. “Sometimes… I just can’t do this.”

“Do what?” you asked but he was quiet. “Wonwoo?.. Are you?.. Are you crying?”

You brushed his hair off his face. He was actually half asleep. Great.

“How much did you drink? Why were you drinking in the first place?” you threw his hand, around your shoulder and dragged him to the bed. Man is he heavy. You dropped him down but as if he waiting for this precise moment, he grabbed your hand and pulled you to the bed. He rolled over, so he could be on top.

“What are you doing?”

“Finishing what we started.”

“I’m not doing anything with you tonight, you’re too drunk.”

He hovered above you for a few seconds. Gazing into your eyes when he plopped down on top of you.

“You’re right,” he whined. “I want to remember every second of it.”

“Wonwoo, could you maybe get off? You’re heavy.”

He did as you asked but still didn’t let go and instead snuggled up to you.

“I’m staying over,” he said.

“Of course you are,” you rolled your eyes.

“You know,” he started again. “I never won against you.”

“So?”

“So…” he said, drawing your body closer to him. “I still can’t let you go,” he whispered into your ear.

An Unexpected Visitor (Reader x Loki)

The God of Mischief decides to pay you a visit, but things don’t turn out as smoothly as he expects.

-

A/N: I’m still not over Thor: Ragnarok, and what best way to celebrate the movie/contribute to the fandom than writing some fanfic? This is my first time writing Loki, I hope he’s in character! 

As Tom Hiddleston often says: “Ehehehehehe”

You heard the faint sound of footsteps outside your room.

As you lay on your bed, warm and comfortable, you noticed -half-consciously- the door gently creek open.

Someone approached you.

You could hear their bated breath and their clothes ruffle quietly with each small, calculated step.

I must be dreaming, you decided right then and there, stubbornly uninterested in any alternative conclusions. After all, it’d been days since you had a good night’s sleep and you were not about to let some apparition take that away from you tonight.

I’m just going to make sure this isn’t real, you mumbled in your head, drunk with fatigue. Eyes still closed you reached out to where you presumed the figure was standing.

Your hand hovered in mid-air. Nothing happened except for the sensation of cold air nipping at your exposed wrist. You felt uncomfortable.

As you brought your hand back towards the warmth of your body, you swore you felt fingertips brush lightly against yours.

You slipped back into the comforting dark depths of unconsciousness before any other thought could cross your mind.

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sadinasaphrite  asked:

I understand you have a long list of these questions, but figured I'd get in line. I want to adopt a retired greyhound racer. What health problems do you see with them? I've also heard they are especially sensitive to anesthesia due to their low body fat. Do you have a protocol you find is particularly safe for them? The rescues have too many conflicting answers. One even claims they never should be put under anesthesia ever, even for dentals, because they "just die!" Which is ridiculous.

Anonymous said: Is it ok to request another breed? If so, greyhounds? Possibly rescue racing hounds if that specification has any problems that pet raised greyhounds dont

and

Anonymous said: Hello! I was wondering if you could (or have already done) a post about greyhounds? Specifically racing-quality ones? I read something earlier that claimed they were a lot healthier than most dogs and I’m wondering if that’s true. Thanks!

and

Anonymous said: Hey there! I noticed you said recently you’d like to see more ex-racing greyhounds as pets - I’m seriously considering adopting one in the future and I was wondering what health issues you see in them? I’ve heard that they can get painful corns on their feet and that you need to be careful about their temperature, but is there anything else you see that a future adopter should be watching for? Question tax: came for the the vet stories, stayed for the refreshingly sensible advice :)

Oh vetlings, I have a lot to say about Greyhounds.

I adore these dogs, and am glad to work with them, but don’t specifically condone organised greyhound racing. Most of these dogs like to run, I would have no problem with them running around a track casually for fun, but once prize-money is involved it becomes too tempting to push limits, to cheat, to cut corners, to overbreed, and this leads to poor welfare outcomes for too many dogs.

Please note the disclaimer that these posts are about the breed from a veterinary viewpoint as seen in clinical practice, i.e. the problems we are faced with. It’s not the be-all and end-all of the breed and is not to make a judgement about whether the breed is right for you. If you are asking for an opinion about these animals in a veterinary setting, that is what you will get. It’s not going to be all sunshine and cupcakes, and is not intended as a personal insult against your favorite breed. This is general advice for what is common, often with a scientific consensus but sometimes based on personal experiences, and is not a guarantee of what your dog is going to encounter in their life.

Also please note that this will be a Long Post.

Originally posted by thegypsycob

General conditions of Greyhounds

Whatever their history all greyhounds have a few things in common. Most of them struggle to sit, they tend to either stand or lie down. Their pain tolerance is interesting, walking in with a broken bone but screaming at a tiny needle prick. They like to feel someone touching their head. There are also a few conditions common to them, regardless of their lifestyle or upbringing. They are one of the very few breeds that I think it’s not an exaggeration to say you benefit from seeing a vet with experience in this breed. We have a lot to get through, so I’ll try to keep the basics fairly short.

Bloat, (Gastric Dilatation Volvulus) is more common in the big males, but can occur in any greyhound due to their deep chest. Delicate, picky eaters seem less at risk.

Greyhounds are generally very athletic, but they can and do develop Dilated Cardiomyopathy. While they have generally reached a reasonable age before developing this condition,

Pannus can affect any greyhound, and this chronic eye condition is generally made worse by UV light exposure. Once diagnosed it’s not too hard to control with medication but it is a long term condition. This is the most likely reason you would see a greyhound wearing doggy sunglasses or ‘Doggles’.

Greyhounds can also get Progressive Retinal Atrophy, which may manifest as ‘night blindness’ first, though this seems to be less common lately.

Greyhounds, perhaps surprisingly for all the raw food they seem to get when racing, have generally poor Dental Health. Despite being big dogs that are generally pretty tolerant, most of them don’t like to chew. They’re delicate chewers and won’t necessarily gnaw a bone.

Speaking of bones, these dogs get Osteosarcoma (Bone cancer) fairly readily. This cancer has a biphasic age pattern. Basically it usually occurs in dogs around 2 years of age, and dogs around 8-10 years of age. It’s all kinds of bad, every time and there’s not much else to say about it, other than the life expectancy is short. I’ve talked about it previously.

Of purely cosmetic concern, greyhounds also commonly develop pattern baldness. Typically the affected areas are the thighs and ventral neck, and there are a few possible reasons for this. It might be genetic, it might be nutritional or stress related, or it might be due to blood vessel compression under due to large muscle groups underneath the skin. This generally bothers the owners more than the dog.

Greyhounds often have thin skin, and while this doesn’t necessarily bother the dogs most of the time it certainly bothers me as the surgeon! Some of these poor dogs will seem to tear themselves open with any little scrape, so be careful of the suture materials you choose. They are prone to pressure sores with poor bandage care too.

And associated with their thin skin, some of these dogs develop “Happy Tail,” which is basically a chronic injury on the tail tip which wont heal because the blessed dog insists on wagging it against solid objects all the time, despite the pain and injury. They can’t help it. They’re too happy, hence the name of the wound. This takes creative bandaging or the occasional partial amputation to fix.

Originally posted by emiliotheexplorer

Conditions associated with Racing

Most greyhounds are reared for the race track and it’s not until later that they’re identified as being 'unsuitable’ for the track. Some greyhounds will be 'retired’ early, before they ever get to run, but many will be retired either with injuries or because they just don’t win. Greyhounds that have been retired due to injury are not necessarily lame, they may have healed well enough to do normal dog activities, just not enough to win races.

Track leg is probably the most common 'racetrack injury’ we see. It’s basically a swelling on the inside of the tibia below the knee, caused by the greyhound continually hitting its hind leg with a front leg as it runs around the track in the same direction all the time. They’re usually not painful, and generally go away when the greyhound is not restricted to always running in a very large circle.

Corns are hard thickenings in the bottom on a footpad, either secondary to trauma, foreign objects (grit) or papilomas. They start out small but grow with time, and are painful. It’s like having a stone in your shoe all the time and many greyhounds will become footsore because of it. Affected greyhounds are often reluctant to walk on harder surfaces, and anti-inflammatories doesn’t seem to make much difference. We treat them by paring them out and waiting patiently.

Grit in foot pads can cause corns, and can cause similar lameness to corns, but will show up on Xrays if you use high enough detail. These are fragments of sand or other foreign objects that have become embedded in the foot pads while running. Greyhounds are particularly lame with this injury and often don’t respond fully to anti-inflammatories. They need surgery to remove these pieces of grit, and the surgery can result in corns.

A Fractured hock, carpus or metacarpal/metatarsal might be a racing career ending injury, but not necessarily a life ending one. Depending on the extent of the fracture the greyhound may have no lameness with a walk or light run, or may end up with a completely fused joint. Generally these dogs are only retired to pet homes if they can still get themselves around pain free.

A Split Webbing is an injury to the web of skin between toes. When this skin tears it’s nearly impossible to get it to heal if both layers are torn, so the recommended technique is to split it all the way to the base of the toes and remove the webbing. This doesn’t seem to bother the dogs at all, and prevents it from re-tearing over and over again as it heals.

Maxillary Fractures are a rare injury of long-nosed dogs who are also klutzes and trip over, slamming their nose into a fence or the ground. This upwards force can fracture the upper jaw, just in front of the canine teeth. These fractures may be non displaced, causing little more than a blood nose and needing pain relief and soft food for a few weeks, or they may be loose and need wiring. They are fairly uncommon overall, but it seems to be greyhounds that get them most.

Associated with racing greyhound husbandry, Neospora infection from raw, infected beef consumption (and similar Toxoplasma from kangaroo or sheep) is more common in greyhounds due to their high prevalence of raw meat being fed. It may present as anything from back pain to blindness, and you can lose whole litters to these parasites.

There are a number of odd Assorted Sports therapy things that greyhounds might be subjected to, from particular lineaments being used, ultrasound therapy, chiropractic treatment or 'seeing the muscle men’, some of the 'treatments’ racing greyhounds are exposed to seem more like hope and witchcraft than medicine. These dogs may also have been supplemented with all sorts of things during their racing days, including iron and B12 as the most common supplements. You don’t necessarily know what a dog has or hasn’t been given in its racing days, but most will be little consequence, if any, after a few months.

Racing greyhounds are also known for a few particular metabolic weirdnesses. Exercise associated heart conditions, exercise associated epilepsy, water diabetes (like a temporary diabetes insipidus), rhabdomyolysis and acidosis are the most well known.

Anaesthesia

Now, this is an interesting difference. Greyhounds are a bit different when it comes to anaesthetics. Most vet students will easily recall that barbituate anaesthetics aren’t recommended in sighthounds due to their proportionally low body fat (and very young or very fat dogs for the same reasons), but greyhounds also seem to have a different liver metabolism that makes handling this class of drugs more difficult. Fortunately there are many other options these days.

The whole 'they die under anaesthesia’ thing is…sort of true. If you put them under anaesthetic when they’re under 24 hours off the race track then they tend to…well… die. But when these dog’s have been at rest for at least 24 hours there doesn’t seem to be a particular increase risk of death specifically.

These dogs are prone to both hypothermia and hyperthermia under anaesthetic, and in life in general.

They are prone to rapid wake ups from anaesthesia, which is not fun when you have a 30kg dog thrashing about and freaking out. For this reason higher premed doses seem to help if you’re using an alfaxalone protocol, medetomedine/butorphanol works well for sedation and we usually use xylazine/ketamine/atropine for orthopaedics. I will not be posting dose rates on this blog, but rest assured greyhounds are perfectly able to have an anaesthetic. They’ve got to get their dental disease treated somehow!

Compared to other breeds

Generally greyhounds are considered pretty healthy. They’re not free of problems, but their common problems are different to common problems in other breeds. Greyhounds have one of the lowest incidences of hip dysplasia in purebred dogs,  and rarely develop the same common structural issues we see in other breeds.

Their blood results are often a little different. A greyhound in racing condition will have a higher PCV, and a pet greyhound may keep this in their retired life. They often have a lower platelet count,  by around 20-25% or so, and may have a relatively low T4. A low T4 can be normal for a greyhound, and hypothyroidism shouldn’t be diagnosed without a TSH level.

They are, in general a little more prone to being clingy or developing separation anxiety. This is generally because most of these dogs are raised in big groups in a kennel situation, and may not get to be truly 'alone’ until they’re in a pet home. Some dogs just need a few weeks of being spoiled with TLC to adjust, some dogs need some pharmaceutical assistance for a while. Some dogs only really relax if they have a companion, but it depends on the individual.

So that is the greyhound breed from a veterinary viewpoint in a nutshell. Some of these points are brief because I only want to give you an overview, but I do recommend vet students spend some time in a greyhound practice, even if you don’t want to work with them or the racing industry, because the musculoskeletal exam of a greyhound is so much more thorough and I understood hocks and carpi much better in greyhounds than I ever did in horses.

Phew, that took a while to write. If you would like to support Dr Ferox’s writing time you can via Patreon for as little as $1 a month!

Panic

Request: I’m always a sucker for Bucky x reader fluff so I was wondering if I could request the reader have a panic attack, and Bucky helps them with the “5 things to do during a panic attack” “Look around you. Find 5 things you can see, 4 things you can touch, 3 things you can hear, 2 things you can smell, and one thing you can taste.” thank you!

Bucky X Reader

Word Count: 1955

Warnings: Mentions of anxiety, reader having a panic attack. 

A/N: WELL. I FINALLY finished this request!! I am SO SO sorry this took so freaking long!! I really hope that it was worth the wait!! Great title I know.. Thank you for all of your patience everybody!! I started working on the next parts for Arsonist’s Lullaby and This Means War but they still may take a bit! xo

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BTS Reactions - They make you cry during a fight

Warning - May be upsetting to some readers

Your throat burns as you and your boyfriend scream at each other, fighting over the way he’d let this girl practically grope him in the shop. He’s telling you that it didn’t even matter, that he doesn’t even know who she is. But your point is that he shouldn’t be letting random girls press themselves up against him when you’re standing right there. You yell at him that he’s a horrible person, and he yells the words you’ve always been scared of,

“Maybe if you didn’t look so awful, I wouldn’t want other girls against me!” His eyes harden even further as the words seem to echo off the walls. Tears prick at your eyes as you cover your mouth with your hands. He says nothing, only looking at you as you begin to cry. You turn away and leave the room, sobbing as you feel all your insecurities flood back into your body.

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