i have problems with the glasses

Bold what applies to you! Tagged by @elven-rogue, thank you sweetie!

APPEARANCE:

  • I am 5′7″ or taller
  • I wear glasses
  • I have at least one tattoo
  • I have at least one piercing.
  • I have blonde hair
  • I have brown eyes
  • I have short hair
  • My abs are at least somewhat defined
  • I have or have had braces
  • There is something I would change about the way I look

PERSONALITY:

  • My Hogwarts house is: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Slytherin
  • I am an introvert
  • I like meeting new people
  • People tell me that I’m funny
  • Helping others with their problems is a big priority for me
  • I enjoy physical challenges
  • I enjoy mental challenges
  • I’m playfully rude with people I know well
  • I started saying something ironically and now I can’t stop saying it
  • There is something I would change about my personality

ABILITY:

  • I can sing
  • I can play an instrument
  • I can do over 30 pushups without stopping
  • I’m a fast runner
  • I can draw well
  • I have a good memory
  • I’m good at doing math in my head
  • I can hold my breath underwater for over a minute
  • I have beaten at least 2 people in arm wrestling
  • I know how to cook at least 3 meals from scratch
  • I know how to throw a proper punch

HOBBIES:

  • I enjoy playing sports
  • I’m on a sports team at my school or somewhere else
  • I’m in or was in an orchestra, band, or choir at my school or somewhere else
  • I have learned a new song in the past week
  • I work out at least once a week
  • I’ve gone for runs at least once a week in the warmer months
  • I have drawn something in the past month
  • I enjoy writing
  • Fandoms are my #1 passion
  • I do or have done martial arts

EXPERIENCES:

  • I have had my first kiss
  • I have had alcohol
  • I have scored the winning goal in a sports game
  • I have watched an entire season of a TV show in one sitting
  • I have been at an overnight event
  • I have been in a taxi
  • I have been in the hospital or ER in the past year
  • I have beaten a video game in one day
  • I have visited another country
  • I have been to one of my favourite band’s concerts

RELATIONSHIP:

  • I’m in a relationship
  • I have a celebrity crush
  • I have a crush on someone I know
  • I have been in at least 3 relationships
  • I have never been in a relationship
  • I have asked someone out or admitted my feelings to them
  • I get crushes easily
  • I have had a crush on someone for over a year
  • I have been in a relationship for at least a year
  • I have had feelings for a friend

MY LIFE:

  • I have at least one person I consider a “best friend”
  • I live close to my school
  • My parents are still together
  • I have at least one sibling
  • I live in the United States
  • There is snow right now where I live
  • I have hung out with a friend outside of school in the past month
  • I have a smartphone
  • I have at least 15 CDs
  • I share my room with someone

RANDOM SHIT:

  • I have break-danced
  • I know a person named Jamie
  • I have had a teacher with a last name that’s hard to pronounce
  • I have dyed my hair
  • I’m listening to one song on repeat right now
  • I have punched someone in the past week
  • I know someone who has gone to jail
  • I have broken a bone
  • I have eaten a waffle today
  • I know what I want to do with my life
  • I speak at least 2 languages fluently
  • I have made a new friend in the past year

i tag; @ladyynegan @into-the-fade @a-shakespearean-in-paris @john-cousland @amell-on @quizzikemen and everyone else :)

A Glass of Water

A psychologist walked around a room while teaching stress management to an audience.

As she raised a glass of water, everyone expected they’d be asked the “half empty or half full” question.

Instead, with a smile on her face, she inquired

“How heavy is this glass of water?”

Answers called out ranged from 8 oz. to 20 oz.

She replied, “The absolute weight doesn’t matter.

It depends on how long I hold it.

If I hold it for a minute, it’s not a problem.

If I hold it for an hour, I’ll have an ache in my arm.

If I hold it for a day, my arm will feel numb and paralyzed.

In each case, the weight of the glass doesn’t change, but the longer I hold it, the heavier it becomes.”

She continued, “The stresses and worries in life are like that glass of water.

Think about them for a while and nothing happens.

Think about them a bit longer and they begin to hurt.

And if you think about them all day long, you will feel paralyzed – incapable of doing anything.”

It’s important to remember to let go of your stresses, upsets and anything that doesn’t feel good to you as early as you can.

Put all your burdens down.

Don’t carry them throughout your day or even an hour or more than the few moments it takes to notice that you are feeling in a way you don’t want.

Remember to put the glass down!

top 10 phan moments that make me wanna rip my heart out

yeah, just ten moments among hundreds, let it be part one or something. tell me what i’ve missed because i want more suffering in my life.

10) mind control.

i mean, i appreciate the subtlety. i crave those tiny moments that you only notice when someone points them out to you. but this! you can’t miss this one, this moment is shoved down our throats. this is so “i’m allowed to do that to you, to be in your personal space, and gaze into your eyes for no reason, just because i want to”. and phil’s face in that moment, so much joy and mischief, he claps his hands and gazes back.

9) chest touch.

drama queen howell strikes again, it hurts to rewatch it srsly, why is he so extra? but what is phil doing ladies and gents? he slaps his chest in the weirdest way possible, he brushes it, it’s like he wants to shove him but reassuringly and the movement happens so fast you have to pause for a second to comprehend it. that sweet gentle boy is so fond of dan’s unnecessary commentary and yeah, it completely distracts us from what dan is saying at that moment.

8) feel my heartbeat.

was that necessary, really? like, i don’t ask my friends to feel my heartbeat when i’m scared, that was such a “horror movie at first date” bullshit, that’s not what people do?? and when dan does feel that beautiful hummingbird heart, phil just covers his hand with his own palm because yes, you gotta feel it very close, no air between your hand and my chest. dan immediately looks into the camera to show us that yeah, i know you’re there, nothing strange, and makes a comment about phil dying. wow.

7) phil the delivery man.

i don’t know what to say. it’s so simple but why does phil have to make such an act of bringing dan his charger, why does he talk in that stupid voice?? they have a banter, and then phil FIXES DAN’S CHARGER FOR HIM, like what?? who asked you to do that? where’s my IT guy au (literally, he’s got glasses, look at him). and before he leaves he plays the piano that nerd, what an attention seeker, and then bows!! is he tipsy? did he have a pre-liveshow orgasm or something? dan laughs fondly and it’s all i need in the world.

6) child beer.

what’s happening and does it even matter. phil’s hiding on the floor, but why? to surprise us? eh whatever. so he’s got that magical japanese powdery stuff and he wants dan to taste it. the biggest problem for me here, ahem, i mean the thing that just kills me every time is that phil spends the whole time (eight minutes) on his knees and he looks so cute when he makes that beer, holds it close to the camera, and then lets the foam sit so dan can have the ultimate child beer experience.

it reminds me of that hot chocolate video, where he does something so trivial but he’s so gentle and loving about it. i still don’t understand why they didn’t do a simple taste test like bros, but phil had to make it for dan, he wanted to see his reaction. and then he tries it as well, touches the glass rim with his lips at the same place where dan’s mouth just was (gross).

and i just can’t ignore how that boy sneaks past dan’s room after that, he’s playful, he stops to say that he googled something and dan was wrong, and domesticity, i wanna die.

5) sleeping phil on tour.

i kinda wanna talk about the angle here because i don’t understand how it was filmed (camera is pretty static, dan’s hand reaches from the side, not behind), but i don’t know if it matters here. what matters is how gentle dan is. of course, he starts with classic nose tickling, which is what “messing with a sleeping friend” usually implies, but then he frees one strand of phil’s hair and just lets it fall. wow, fantastic prank, dan.

and let’s separately discuss that pout/kiss phil does after he opens his eyes. i know you want a slow mo replay, so here we go:

that’s what i call “im gonna stay asleep but i love you”. where’s the nearest cliff so i can fling myself into abyss?

4) the look.

context what context. why did they keep it? why did they put it on fullscreen instead of hiding in the corner? two full-length looks dan, really?? you know what he looks like, why do you have to examine him like that in front of us you slut. and it just passes, without acknowledgment, they just turn back at us simultaneously and I’M STILL DEAD at that moment, i don’t care what happens next.

3) snoot. proot. (i just filmed you doing that)

i don’t even care what it was. something about piano sounds or whatever, but this video haunts me. THERE’S SO MUCH TO IT. first, phil is lying on dan’s bed (at least in the official version it’s dan’s, not mutual), just chilling?? and dan’s working i guess. so they are not actually doing something together but it’s a cozy evening, why would they spend it in different rooms? dan says something, idk, and phil replies “yeah” in that deep voice I SWEAR i haven’t heard from him before. dan makes the sounds again, like can you believe he’s an actual dork in real life, it’s not an act, he’s actually the weirdest boy alive, and he so obviously doesn’t know he’s being filmed. because when phil says “i just filmed you doing that you’re so weird”, he’s so delighted, he laughs at himself, he turns around, his hair is pushed back omg they are both so sleepy and i rejoice. i think this video gives us a rare but fantastic insight in their everyday life, phil must be keeping so much silly videos like that on his google drive and we never get to see them BUT SOMEHOW he posts this one, probably because dan is cute and he wants everyone to know it.

2) you loved it. you wanna do it more.

so, yes. you know this one. where do i even begin?? they play this dragon quiz and then 1) phil says “you loved it” in the strangest voice, like the voice we never hear from him, it’s deeper and quieter, he looks at dan even though dan’s not looking back; 2) dan is looking down as if he’s fiddling with an ipad or something, it’s almost a bts moment, something they would usually edit out. AND THEN THREE SECONDS OF SILENCE while dan kinda processes what’s going on and phil still looks at him expectantly. seductive as fuck. and now this quiet “alright”, i’m just… dan looks like he’s gotten the hint, so he’s a little embarrassed and they share the softest laugh. 

the thing is, we know how often phil makes sexual innuendos and dan always reacts the same way: he looks into the camera, he throws a witty comment in, he puts it on display to show us that there’s no intimacy in that moment. but not this time. i don’t understand why they didn’t edit it out. i just… don’t.

1) pantless liveshow
this is the ultimate. this is the weirdest and the most awesome thing these two gave me and i’m not even sure what can top that. the moment when phil decides to grab the humidifier and show us, he looks at the screen, says “one second” and stands up very awkwardly while dan turns the laptop away from him and makes the weirdest “how you doing” face. 

WHAT THE FUCK. did they think we were so used to them weirdos that we wouldn’t even notice that shit? but fuck, they do it again, they want to show us the spray and dan goes “should i go get it? you have to do phil’s corner”. like, i can’t function, i honestly can’t. AND THE WORST PART is when dan returns and we can see him covering his legs with a blanket just too fast like it’s not that cold boy come on.

i have no explanation and i have every explanation. i don’t deserve all this suffering.

a friend like mine

 Summary: A discussion about a break up leads to….interesting revelations. || Sebastian x Reader || part 1 of 2

Warnings: discussion of kinks, [in the second part] —> smut and all that entails, thigh riding, choking, some other stuff but i’ll put it in the warnings for the next one

Note: :))))

Originally posted by buckynsebimagines

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hello everyb. it me, doctor elly, cat doctor ph.d (Ph.luffy Doctor).

so many people sufferin so much lately. in world, and also on small human scale. human roommnt Rave Sahnsyed and me hear from especial many of yu in this week. some of u lost somebyyd or somthin important, or anticipting loss. som of u feel so lonely n isolated. some of u have get in truble for mistake & torn between fel guilty bad (for mistake) & resent (for unfair reaction). other ppl feel guilt for have problem in face of global scary tension. some of u just very scared for no reason, or all reason.

im dont mean 2 minimize all individ problem by combinin response this way. but i am nonly one small cat & carnt even read. so, its hard 2 answer all of this. especial hard for me 2 answer questions no one can answer, like, what happen if we cannot stop unraveling of global systm? jeez, i donnt no. im domb as hell.i mean yestrday i got trap again between glass tabletop n table.

so look, i say this only. i make recomend:take some time 2 NOT BE ON INTERNET. i know this sim like denial – STOP ABSORBING INFORMATION! – but internet IN PARTICULAR is machine for collapsing of experience. is no way 2 make emotional distinction betwen things Happenin to U and things Happenin to World that matter and things Happnin to U And World that dont matter, on itnernet. its all comes at u all time and it only make so tired.

so this is why im ask  u to unplug for couple hours or days if u can. ok? try maybe only tomor saturday. read book from paper, newspaper from paper. go outdise if u can, see how flowers comin in on trees. perhaps go to tax march tomor if u feel like u must engage with World. listen to new kendrick album!! (doctor lely luv kendric.) enjoy sensual, concrete pleasure and pains. try 2 spend time living consciously in those sensations, good n bad. 

adapt this recomnednatin to yur personal situat and limits. i cant atully go outside bc will die of panic attack if bird or squril gets 2 close. so im just stick my butt out window in the sun. this give me perspectiv and warm.

will this solv world problem? of course not. but mayb will give u strength & distance from feeling of crushing overwhelm, deep breath from which yu can re-enter heartbreaking lovely pointless important garbage endeavor of being alive. im tellin yu, those flower are gud.

Promises (Part One)

Requested by Anonymous

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: Peter Parker is your best friend (and crush), although you don’t know he’s Spider-Man yet. One day, you’re attacked by The Vulture and badly hurt.

Word count: 1,472

Warnings: Some violence and mention of blood.

Tags: @thisisthelilith @idroppedthefries @avengers-earths-mightiest-heroes

A/N: I’m still shook about spiderman: homecoming, the avengers: infinity war trailer (that i didn’t even get to see smh), and I recently found out that infinity wars was being filmed in Queens A WEEK before I was planning to visit NYC…so I’ve been working on this request to calm me down lol. I have way too many feelings about Marvel atm. Someone please help me 🙃 (Also, I’m turning this request into multiple parts because I had way too many ideas for it and it was about to be way too long)

(Part Two)


“Hey, you,” You heard from behind your locker door.              

The voice scared you so much that you slammed your locker shut in panic. When you saw who it was, your cheeks turned bright crimson.

“Jesus, Peter. You scared the shit out of me.”

Peter just grinned, amused that he was able to fluster you without even trying.

“Sorry. Why so jumpy today?” he asked with a chuckle.

“I don’t know. I just woke up feeling kind of weird today. It’s no big deal. What are you doing after school today? Ned told me he got the Lego Deathstar set.”

Peter raised an eyebrow and leaned against the locker beside you. Your quick change of subject and flustered rambling couldn’t trick him. He knew something was wrong with you, but he decided to bypass it for now. He didn’t want to make you talk about something you didn’t want to talk about, so he just shook his head and carried on with the conversation as if everything was normal.

“I heard. I wish I could help you guys build it, but I got the Stark internship after school.”

You rolled your eyes and copied his pose, your shoulder falling hard against your locker.

“You always have the Stark internship. Doesn’t he ever let you take a break?”

Peter chuckled again.

“Uh, not really. No. It’s okay though, I like it.”

You were still annoyed, but you didn’t want to crap all over something Peter loved. So you just gave him a little fake smile instead.

“I’m glad you enjoy it. Ned and I will miss you though.”

Peter gave you one of his little appreciative half-smiles.

“I’ll miss you, too. Uh, both of you… I mean,” He rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. “Anyways, can I walk you out?”

You nodded and the both of you headed towards the front entrance of Midtown High.

You and Peter had parted ways a while back on your journey home. You felt a little antsy walking alone in Queens, and Peter was reluctant to leave you alone, but you convinced him that you would be fine. You kept checking your phone nervously, waiting for Ned to text you back about the plan for that night. When you looked up, you realized that you didn’t even know where you were walking anymore. You stopped and looked around. There was an ominous feeling in the air – the same creepy feeling you got when you woke up this morning. Something bad was about to happen. You could feel it.

You spun around, and just as you did, you saw a winged creature swooping down to grab you. The last thing you saw before you blacked out was a pair of mechanical talons gripping your shoulders.

When you woke up, your vision was blurry. You tried to sit up, but when you did, your body was wracked with pain. You fell back to the ground and hit your head on the pavement, worsening your anguish. When you reached back to cradle it, you felt something warm and sticky on your hands. You tried to lift your other arm, but couldn’t. You tried and failed to move your legs as well. You didn’t know what happened to you, but you knew that it was bad. You lay still, waiting for the pain to stop when you saw a blurry figure running to you.

“Y/N!” You heard the figure scream, and you knew at once that it was Peter.

But you were out before you could even say his name.

… 

Beep…Beep…Beep.

The first thing you heard before you opened your eyes was the steady beeping of the heart monitor next to you. The next thing was worried voices speaking next to you.

“She’s going to be alright, kid. It’ll take her a while to get there, but she’s going to be alright.”

“You don’t get it, Tony. I let this happen. Me. This whole thing is my fault.”

As soon as you recognized the second voice as Peter’s, you knew you had to open your eyes for him. It took all of the strength in your body, but finally your eyes fluttered open. You tried to say something comforting to him, but nothing came out. Instead, you made a grunting noise and tried to reach out for him.

Peter immediately kneeled down next to you and put an arm on your shoulder.

“Y/N? Are you okay? Wait, no, don’t try to talk. Or move. Just…thank god you’re okay.”

“P…Peter. W-what…happened?” You struggled to ask.

Peter just stared at you with a pained expression.

“It’s…complicated. You got hurt. But you’re going to be okay now.”

You turned your gaze to Tony Stark, who was standing sullenly in the corner of the room.

“Why is he here? Where am I?”

Tony stepped forward and gripped the footboard of your hospital bed.

“You’re in Avengers Tower. In the medical bay.”

“What? Why aren’t I in a real hospital? Where’s my parents…?”

You shifted uncomfortably under your sheets, trying to sit up, but stopped abruptly and groaned when you felt a sharp pain in your ribs. Peter pressed gently on your shoulder to keep you from moving.

“I wouldn’t do that, Y/N.”

“Why am I here? And where are my parents?” You asked again sharply, starting to fully regain your voice.

“Your parents are on their way here. And, uh, you’re here because… well, because…”

“Because Peter reached out to me for help when he found you. We’ve got the best and brightest working here. You’re in very good hands,” Tony interrupted.

“Yeah, exactly. Plus he offered to keep you here for free so your parents won’t have to pay any medical bills. He’s been really helpful with all of this.”

You relaxed back into your pillows, staring at Tony with a questioning look.

“Thank you, Tony,” you mumbled, not buying that that was the whole story.

“No problem. Any friend of Peter’s is a friend of mine. I should go, but Peter here will take excellent care of you. It was a pleasure to meet you, Y/N. I’m just sorry it had to be under these circumstances.”

With that, he patted Peter roughly on the shoulder, gave him a look over the rim of his glasses, and walked out the door.

“What was that about?” You questioned Peter.

“Nothing. It’s fine.”

He put both of his elbows on the edge of your bed, balling his fists together and resting them against his lips. He was thinking very hard about something.

“Peter… don’t think for one second that I’m going to give up asking about what’s going on. I’m not stupid. I know something bad happened, and I need to know what it was,” You croaked.

Peter looked into your eyes, and you could tell he knew you were right. He had to tell you, no matter how hard it was for him. He sighed loudly and got up to pull up a chair beside you.

“Okay. Uh, I don’t really know how to say this…but, uh, you were attacked. By The Vulture. Do you know who that is?”

You furrowed your eyebrows, searching your brain for any prior knowledge you had of who that could be. When you finally remembered seeing him on the news a few times, you nodded slowly.

“Spider-Man fought him a couple of times, right?”

Peter nodded at the floor, not able to look you in the eyes.

“Ned called me and said you never texted him back. He seemed really worried, so I started walking to your house to see if you were there. And then on the way I saw him… and I found you. Just laying there in an alley. I was so scared. I thought that I was too late. I thought I lost you, Y/N.”

He looked so upset that it took everything in your power not to sit up and wrap your arms around him. Instead, you rested your hand on top of his. It was all you could muster. Peter sniffled a little bit and gave you a weak smile.

“I don’t understand, Peter. What would The Vulture want with me?”

Peter looked up at you and shook his head slowly.

“I…don’t know, Y/N. I’m so sorry.”

He looked like he was almost in as much pain as you, so you intertwined your fingers with his in an attempt to comfort him further.

“Why are you sorry? This isn’t your fault, Peter.”

He smiled again, but he still looked tormented.

“I’m never going to let anything bad happen to you again,” he whispered, tightening his grip on your hand. “I promise.”

You smiled at him sleepily. Feeling your cheeks beginning to burn, you cleared your throat and released his hand.

“So…Avengers Tower, huh? Do you think you could get Black Widow to pay me a visit?”

∑=MC^2 [Spencer Reid x Reader]

Requested by anon: “Could you do the anything you write on your skin appears on you your soulmates skin au with Reid”

A/N: I wasn’t too sure on what this AU was but I had it explained. I also made it so that names and places of living wouldn’t work because that would be to easy lol.

________

You didn’t really understand the whole, write on your skin and it shows up on your soulmate’s skin thing. There were limits to it and rules. Knowing that you couldn’t put down your name or where you are because it wouldn’t show on their skin.

But what you also didn’t understand was what the hell your soulmate was constantly writing on his arm or hand. So many math equations and book references. Often times people would look at it and ask what the writing was, you’d simply answer “I guess my soulmate’s a math nerd?”

Not knowing how incredibly right you were.

You’re a simple grad student. Studying to become a psychiatrist, wanting nothing more than to help people. So all this writing on your arm was a bit distracting. Did your soulmate not know about the bond? Or just not have the time to find paper?

Who knows at this point, right now you were just trying to decipher what all of it was.

Sitting in a coffee shop you stared at your arm. Examining every piece of information. Letting out a huff at the undecipherable letters and numbers, except for the formula ∑=MC^2 which you recognized from senior year physics.

Giving up you clicked the power button on your computer. The screen lighting up before turning back off again. “What the hell?” you mumbled jamming the button a couple of times. “Shit” running your hands through your hair. “No, my resume. I didn’t save it.” groaning to nobody in particular. 

“Fear not!” a voice said from beside you. It startling you. “Oh god” holding your hand to your chest. “Sorry I didn’t mean to scare you” A blonde woman said smiling. “I just saw you having computer troubles and I know my way around a motherboard so may I?” she gestured to your computer.

“Have at it” you pushed it toward her.

Shocked when witnessing her having it up and running within a few clicks. “What? How’d you?” reaching and moving the touch pad. Immediately saving your resume on the page. “Thank you so much! You just saved my future”

“No problem, I’m Penelope by the way” she held a hand out to you. “[F/n]” taking it while introducing yourself. Though her eyes widened at the mathematical equations and information on your arm. “Whoa” she said but soon recognized the handwriting. 

“Oh my god you need to come with me!” She began to smile excitedly. “Um okaay?” you said before grabbing your things and following her. Luckily not having any other plans that day.

Not expecting to end up inside the FBI building. “Am I allowed to be in here?” asking while following her through a hallway, to a pair of double glass doors.

“Yes, as long as you’re with me. I think.” Penelope said excitedly.

“Good morning princess” A man said coming over to you both. “Not now chocolate thunder I need to find Reid.” she held a finger to him while passing. “Um ouch” he commented catching up to you “I’m sorry who are you?” smiling at you.

“Uh [F/n], Penelope saved my computer, and told me I had to come with her here now. I’m just as confused as you are” you shrugged and he laughed. “Well that’s Garcia for ya. I’m SSA Derek Morgan, nice to meet you” offering you a hand.

“Likewise” shaking it in return. Walking into the bullpen Penelope yelled “REID!” startling you again. Damn she’s good at that.

A man looked up from his book to see the woman running over to him. “Come here” she pushed him toward you. “[F/n] meet Spencer, Spencer [F/n]” she quickly introduced you.

He smiled at you awkwardly, as you gave a simple “Hi” the other members in the area just watching confused.

“Uhh Garcia what’s going on?” Another blonde haired woman asked from her desk.

“J.J. Shh, [F/n] and Spencer are going to compare arms!” She turned back to the both of you. “COMPARE ARMS!” she yelled.

You pulled up your sleeve to reveal the writing on it. Spencer’s eyes widened before he did the same. “Boom soulmates! You’re welcome” she cheered as everyone, including you and Spencer, just stared shocked.

“Uhh” you said looking down at your arm. “Alright then. Just a few questions. What the hell is going on? What the hell is written on my arm? Are you some kind of Einstein or something? And do you want to get dinner this weekend?” your rapid tone disorienting a few of the profilers.

He processed your words for a moment before answering “Honestly couldn’t tell you. It’s a series of equations used from a case we just solved. I have an eidetic memory but that’s what some people say. And yes I would like to.”

You smiled, “Well glad that’s cleared up”

“I am as well. I look forward to getting to know you better” He smiled. Surprising all of his co-workers with his calmness.

“Did Reid just get a date?” Morgan looked at the other members confused before back at the pair of you. “Oh it’s the end times” Rossi commented before the whole team nodded.

Even a room full of profilers couldn’t decipher what just happened.

City of Glass, Alec (to Magnus): “You never called me back. I called you so many times and you never called me back.”

Pale Kings and Princes, Isabelle (to Simon): “You never called me. I saved you from getting decapitated by an Eidolon demon, and you didn’t even call.”

—  Evidently the Lightwoods have a little problem with their boyfriends not calling them back.
New toy II pt.1

Jungkook x reader

genre: smut, fluff, sub!jungkook

word count: 8.5k


Your new neighbour turns out to be the perfect toy for you.

Originally posted by nochuie

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"I'm not your blind date but you came over and I was eating alone so I went with it and now you're calling me by a different name" AU

I found this prompt on a Tumblr blog but I accidentally deleted the post and now I can’t find the prompt anymore

Lena was sitting alone. She twirled the neck of the wine glass in her left hand, her phone in her right as she responded to work emails. Jess kicked her out of the office almost an hour ago, going on about how she shouldn’t be working on her birthday and she deserved one day off for herself. Problem is Lena always had days to herself. Her days were always “her” days if she didn’t have anyone to share them with. She looked down at the red rose on the table before her, Jess’ gift to her, and let herself smile slightly. Jess was a good assistant, she meant well, and she seemed to care when no one else did.

So that’s why she listened and came here to this restaurant when she really wanted to finish responding to her emails and get a head start on tomorrow’s project. The place wasn’t the fanciest she’s been, but she wasn’t about to go to one of the high-class places she frequented when she didn’t have a date. It was nice enough: low lighting, decent wine selection, and she got a small booth in the back so no one would bother her. Her plan was to come out, grab a quick bite, and then finish work at home.

She was so focused on her phone that she hadn’t noticed the woman walk up to her booth. There was a small tap on her shoulder then, and she was slightly annoyed that anyone would interrupt her when she purposely picked this booth to avoid being bothered. She turned to look up quickly, an annoyed “Can I help you?” on the tip of her tongue, when she came face-to-face with a literal angel, the words dying before they formed. Her jaw went slack as she took in the stunning being before her.

The woman had the bluest eyes Lena had ever seen, even under the minimal lighting of the place and the black rimmed glasses she wore. Her hair fell in soft golden waves, across the shoulders of her beige jacket and blue top. She had a pair of black pants that hugged her hips and a nice pair of boots to match. She looked dressed up, yet still casual, and it suddenly made Lena feel self-conscious about the tight fitting black dress and tight ponytail she wore.

“It was supposed to be yellow,” the woman said, pointing at the flower on the table.

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It Wasn’t a Mistake

Pairing: Mitch Rapp x Reader

Author: @ninja-stiles

Words: 5487

Warnings: sin, fluff, angst?, blood

Author’s Note: I decided to write this to celebrate the trailer of American Assassin coming out and it was a fucking amazing trailer. Dyl looked so good. oml. I want to thank like all my friends for encouraging me that this is good! I wanna thank @dumbass-stilinski for looking it over, helping me with some parts, and just being amazing all around. You da best babe. I hope you guys enjoy!!

Originally posted by stydiaislove

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anonymous asked:

I've seen you say a couple times that you don't see or that you're disabled. Do you mind talking about it? I ask because I am an aspiring writer and it is really hard for me. I wanted to know how you managed or what it was like?

I don’t mind talking about it. It’s something that made me who I am.

When I was about 12, my health sort of started to eat itself. I suddenly had a ton of allergies, and there were days I couldn’t get out of bed. I got sick all the time. In freshman year of high school, I suddenly couldn’t see. For a long time a thing had been going on in my eyes, but I guess I didn’t think it was abnormal until it made it impossible for me to see. Basically this hole was kind of growing in my eyes, but it was more like a rainbow.

When I started having trouble with colors and detail vision, my mom freaked out a bit, because at the time, I was an award winning artist who had ideas of going to college for art. Then I started tripping over things, hitting my head, having trouble with depth perception. Then I got sick, and I mean sick.

I spent about 23 hours a day in bed. I had almost constant migraines. I had pain in my entire body. My skin turned yellow. I went to every kind of doctor you can think of and was tested for everything there is. One day, I had about 12 vials of blood drawn. No one knew what was wrong. The eyes weren’t that big a deal at first, because it seemed like I might have something really serious. The first couple of eye doctors I went to kind of looked at me and said “Oh it’s nothing big.” I actually had one guy tell me that my brain was just shutting off my eyes because I wasn’t using them properly. Yeah.

Then finally, my mom took me to a friend of our family who happened to be an eye surgeon. She did a free exam. I’ll never forget it because it was the first time anyone believed me. I’d been told by doctor after doctor that there was nothing wrong with me. I’d been referred to therapists, told I needed depression meds, told I was just going through a phase or needed attention. Then this doctor put on her head gear, looked into my eyes…took off the head gear…got new head gear…looked into my eyes…took off the headgear…got hand held tools…looked into my eyes…and then stared at me with her mouth hanging open.

“I can’t see the back of your eye,” she said. And suddenly the world simultaneously healed itself and flipped upside-fucking-down for me.

Then it was all about my eyes, the one symptom we could see happening. The one that was the most dangerous. But by then it was too late.

What happened is pretty simple: I apparently have some weird recessive DNA. It triggers certain bizarre immune issues at puberty. My immune system decided to attack my body. The eyes are a delicately balanced system. They show symptoms first. My immune system attacked them with a vengeance. They swelled up like balloons. Normal eye pressure is about 14-17. Mine was at a 22 at its best. It put a tremendous amount of pressure on my Retina, specifically my macula, cutting off blood flow like when you sit on your foot. You know those little shadowy things that float across your eyes? They’re called protein floaters. My eyes had produced so many of those that the doctor could not see through them. It was a fog.

They had to find a way to map my eye, to track the damage. Cue the eye exam from hell. I have always been, even before my autoimmune disorder, deathly allergic to melon. Any kind of melon. But now I was allergic to all sorts of shit, fruits vegetables, all kinds of crap. My dad is allergic to contrast dyes. So when the retinologist suggested this dye-based eye exam that is kind of like a CAT scan, my mom said “no”. See, they inject you with this dye and then they flash this weird light in your eyes. It causes the dye to glow, and then they can see the things through the fog. My mom told them I was too sensitive to stuff for that to be safe. The doc assured her they’d put a butterfly in my arm, meaning the vein would be kept open, and a syringe of benedryl was set on the counter. They’d never had anyone react, and they needed the pictures or there was nowhere to go from there.

So they put this dye into me, and it was like I’d been injected with fire, but there was no way around it, and to me, I knew they only had about 90 seconds to get the images they needed. So I sucked it up. finally the burning began to spread. Suddenly my back felt like I was being stabbed, and I suddenly couldn’t speak. I tapped my hands on my mom, then began sneezing spontaneously. My mom lifted my shirt, and I had quarter-sized hives. The nurse said “Stop sneezing on the camera”. Yeah.

My mom went ballistic. The doctor flew up the stairs and gave me the emergency meds. I slid into a dissociation state and nearly out of my chair. They had to prop me against the camera for the next couple minutes and reinject the dye. No other way, you see.

They did this test every few months for a few years.

But then there was treatment. Not much they could do, except try to get the swelling under control. Only way to do that was corticosteroid injections in the eye. Yup. A needle in the eye. No, they don’t knock you out. They numb the surface of the eye with the same numbing drops they give you for the exams and then they come at you with a needle, tell you to look down and to hold still. And you fucking do.

I was 15 when that started.

I went to experimental clinics, labs, and joined studies. I dropped out of those. Why? It’s pretty simple. The first day I came to the exams, I was kept waiting for over two hours. I was taken into a room. I was left there. No information, no talking. Suddenly a man came in followed by a group of people, all in lab coats. He started moving me around like I was a doll and talking like, “The patient presents with…the patient this, the patient that…”

I shoved him back and said, “The patient’s name is Kristina, and she is 16.”

He finished his exam, and when he left, after the students had gone, he took two Q-tips, dipped them in that pink shit your dentist uses to swab your gums before an injection, and SHOVED them under my eyelids with a cocky smirk.

The patient will never be an snotty little bitch again, I guess.

So yeah. Fuck those guys. They gave me two injections in one day, which no one had ever done before, because it was almost impossible to function with two pimple-like bubbles on your eyeballs.

Still my health was bad. Then all of a sudden, when my mom had given up, It just wasn’t anymore. Suddenly, I was fine, and all that was left were the eyes. I went back to school, except now I was blind.

In a few months, I’d lost about 80% of my perfect vision. I was photophobic. I got horrible and constant headaches. I walked with a cane. And not a single fucking teacher believed me, except my civics teacher, who had gone blind at a young age due to some other weird eye disorder, and my physics teacher who was deaf. I had teachers send me to the office for wearing my sunglasses (with a note on file). I had teachers get on my case about having an audio recorder and CD player for my books. I had teachers call me names, make fun of me, make me leave class to photocopy their notes larger, so that I missed the lecture the notes were on. I had teachers take my medications which had to be in my possession because of their time-sensitive nature and constant administration and hide them in their desks as punishment for asking questions or demanding help. I had classmates pick on me, but luckily, I was well-liked, and I was an officer in the ROTC. I even excelled there in spite of my vision, because my Captain believed in my leadership skills.

I always tell this story because I think it is funny. We had this special boot camp we got to go to if we were in the upper ranks of the ROTC. If you joined the military after high school (which I could never do) you got a higher paygrade for having gone through it. Almost like taking a couple JC classes in the military. It was grueling and all physical fitness, obstacle courses, PT, classes, guard duty…fucking blah. Our unit was allowed six participants. I sort of figured that it wasn’t really fair for me to go, even with my high rank (a company XO). To my complete fucking shock, my Captain recommended me to go, cutting out a classmate (and ex) of mine who was higher in rank. The boy went ape-shit. He went on and on about how unfair it was. He even went to the school board. My Captain made his reasons clear; he told them that the academy isn’t about military sponsorship. It’s about skills and quality. He didn’t care if I had a disability. In his eyes I had more innate ability than anyone there because I had worked so hard just to be where I was. The boy was angry. I told my Captain I appreciated the gesture, but honestly, we ought to make it fair. I told him that we should train to meet the PT standards, and that if this kid could make his, but i couldn’t make mine, he should go. I made mine. He didn’t. He complained about that too. At the last minute, we were told one extra person could come because another school had lost one. So he came anyway. The whole time he bitched about me being there. When I got there, the real military officers gave me shit like you wouldn’t believe, because they weren’t used to dealing with disabilities or recognizing that they can’t discriminate against high schoolers by law. The commander of the unit tried to dress me down in front of everybody for wearing sunglasses. I was pretty pleased with myself for telling him off but still sounding respectful. He kept saying “Take off my glasses”. I told him they weren’t his. They were mine, by law, and that if he had a problem with that, he could consult my attorney, the DOJ, and the doctor who prescribed them. He tried to fuck with me. I didn’t say anything except to ask him if he wanted me to have a migraine, because that’s what taking the glasses off means. He was so confused by me he walked away and called my Captain over. There were words. After that, he came up to me once or twice, almost like a test, to ask me if I needed him to slow down or if I was getting around alright. He wasn’t being nice. He was egging me in a condescending tone and with very bullying language. He’s a drill instructor, and you know what, that’s his job. I told him I was fine. But I made a decision: I wasn’t just going to make the female PT marks. I was going to test out of this fucking place at the male PT marks. And I fucking did. That boy…had an asthma attack on the track (I had asthma too, but I worked my ass off while he coasted on his “boyness”) and failed. At the certificate ceremony, the commander came up to me and said I had really impressed him, and that it was a shame I couldn’t enter the Navy. I thanked him, but what I wanted to say was, “Go fuck yourself and take the NAVY with you”. I ended up the Battalion XO Senior year. This would have given me a guaranteed spot in Westpoint if I could have taken it. My Captain cried when he told me he was sorry he had to give it to one of our Company XO’s. I told him that it was best for everyone, because I am not the type of person to enjoy taking orders. I had learned that about myself.

He laughed.

Around Junior year I got people to pay attention. My doctors got the DOJ and the Social Security people involved. A woman came to my school and enforced compliance in a tone of voice I’d never heard anyone but my mother use. She threatened to rain brimstone down on them if they didn’t give me what I needed, and things changed.

My parents wanted me to take a full scholarship to a local school, but I wanted to get away. So I did. I wanted to travel abroad, so i did. And when I was 19, they perfected one of the surgeries they had been working on the entire time I’d been struggling with this.

See, the injections had brought and kept the swelling down, but that meant that the fog was still there (since ocular fluid doesn’t replace), and the structures in the eye had been stretched all to shit, and were laying in my eye like melted plastic wrap. The old surgery was like a blind man hacking with a machete, but the new surgery used fluorescent dyes to track movement. Dyes that wouldn’t kill me. The old surgery had a 50-50 shot at complete loss of vision and made you lay on your face for three weeks. The new was fool proof and took 45 minutes. So, I got one eye done. They swapped out all the fluid and replaced it with saline. They peeled the distorted membrane off the macula. They stitched up my eyeball and gave me a sick metal eye patch. Looked like a fucking space pirate. It was rad.

But the blind spot is still there. The cataracts caused by the steroids are still there. The scars are there.

A few years later I had the other one done too.

My college was great. It took a lot of work getting all my reading done, about 500 pages minimum, per week, done via audio. I used to spend hours at the pool table in our residence hall, listening to my books and practicing. I got pret damn good too, at pool. It was difficult taking notes or working with a note taker. It was scary traveling by myself. It was hard to get people to understand there wasn’t anything WRONG with me. Just that my eyes don’t work even though it seems like I’m normal and fine, and like they should. People always think to be legally blind you have to be completely blind, and they think you’re not going to be able to defend yourself. I’ve been targeted by pickpockets. I’ve been followed by scary dudes. I’ve been treated like shit, laughed at, and accused by full grown adults of faking to get privileges, all because I can look at the place where their head should be and smile at the blank spot there. All because I can walk down a flight of stairs with a few neat tricks I know that have nothing to do with a cane.

But shit…you probably didn’t mean to ask for my life story. I’m going to get back to the point. My writing. What has it done for that? Like how can you be a writer if you can’t fucking see? Technology. It’s been amazing. I can use a computer same as anyone. The Kindle has been a fucking revolution for me because for the first time in a decade and a half I could read without pain and suffering. Just…all the things it does have made life so much easier than it used to be. It got me out of bad relationships with people who used my disability as a control. It gave me a little bit of confidence back. It helped me know I could handle myself.

And really, I think my vision loss had a lot to do with my writing. In some ways it gives me different perspective, sure, but it’s more than that. I was undeclared when I entered college. I didn’t know what I wanted to do. I thought about history or sociology. My mom had a degree in that and she was an English teacher. I wanted art history, but what the fuck was the point in that? Couldn’t see a damn thing. And then I had a class in poetry, and shit…That made sense. I’d always loved language and writing. Always been okay at it. Dorte stuff but never thought about doing it for a living. But then it was like yeah…yeah I’m gonna fucking do that. Just like when I decided to meet the male PT standards.

If it is in you. If you love it. If it defines you and possesses you, it does not matter how fucked up you are. You will find a way. You don’t have a choice. You are that thing. And you’ll adapt. You just have to let yourself. You have to keep pushing. You have to learn how to handle frustration. you have to train yourself into stamina. You just keep going. I’m nowhere near as successful as I want to be. I’m still going. I hope I get even better. I hope I can say things that make truth more obvious, or that help people put words to things they have always wanted to say.

I don’t need my eyes to be a fucking firestorm. That’s just me. Eyes don’t mean shit.

So keep going. Keep doing whatever you need to. Do it better and better. Bend yourself around it. People who see you struggle will think they’re lucky, but you and I know the truth: they’re not even close to the kind of strong you are. Not even a little bit.

what’s in your bag: teddy lupin

Teddy: Uncle Harry got me a new backpack!

Teddy: Sooo…I’ve got a sketchbook, no, two- or three

Teddy: Once we were at an arts supply store and gran told me she’d buy any colour I could morph my hair into in 30 seconds so…what?? I love colours. She didn’t mind. Said mom was the same. *grins*

Teddy: *smiling mischievously*…also someone left this in my pocket last week with a note that said “it reminded me of you whatever”…and I couldn’t possibly know *coughs* james *coughs* who that would be.

Teddy: *never leaves the house without a first aid kit* …for when Albus falls off his broom…for Vic’s headaches…

Teddy: Also - glasses. For when I feel insecu-cool, I mean cool. Yeah.

Teddy: …and loads of sweets. I swear half of my bag is sweets. I…have a problem.

(ooc: this time i want to tag @arabella-prongs  lovely luna or the cutest cho and @space-marauder my b scorp or agender fairy vic <3 if you guys want to of course)
james potter

The problem-free person (Langst)

Lance and Hunk walked down the corridor towards their respective rooms. The Cuban boy with a toothy grin on his features, giggling the last joke of the night to his lifetime-best-guy-friend.

“Pft dude, why the long face?”

Hunk sighed before answering. “…Nothing. Sleepy.”

With that they said their good nights and headed straight to their rooms. Lance had had a pretty good time.

Unbeknownst to him however, was that Hunk felt more irritated than usual due to many errands he had to go through.

Hunk wasn’t cross with him though, he would never be. 

But with the chuckling, the giggles and the- Hunk would never admit this to Lance- forced cackling, it lead him to being more drained. Throughout the majority of their conversations today Lance was cheery and a bit unrealistic. But it was really just how he was. Lance would usually joke with tons of exaggeration and it would turn out actually funny. Hunk and pretty much everyone around him would just shrug it off like a mosquito and drift off into their dreamland when the day ends. 

Well unbeknownst to everyone however, was that Lance knew they were all tired of him. 

What he thought was if he were happy, he would get everyone to be fond of him. To be a problem-free person that wouldn’t be a burden to anyone was what he wanted to achieve. Through little time he mastered the basics of charm, a bright smile and a dazzling wink would be enough to gain the friendships he sought for. 

At the Garrison he had started as a freshmen- just like everyone else at the beginning of a semester. And already he felt wrong. 

The problem was, he was smiling through it all.

Lance didn’t know if it was because he wasn’t flattering enough or if his remarks seemed plastic, but he wasn’t getting through anyone. He knows that much. 

In short, Lance hates himself. Which was unbelievable to his narcissistic exterior. If you would set aside his facade, he felt nothing like how he describes himself. Especially to Keith.

“Was it my laugh?” Lance carefully forced to look at himself in the mirror for only a second. He was afraid that if he stared too long he would start to develop thoughts. Tugging at his brown locks he whispered, “dang, I feel extra crap today, way to go Lance McC-lame.”

He scrubbed both hands on his eyes. When he pulled back he felt the air drying the parts what were soaked. He was with a group now. Shiro said that they recognized him as their own. 

“I am right? I’m not only just that.” He leaned on his arms that were aligned on the counter. Glancing down he barely saw his tear stains in between his hands. I’m not only just a seventh wheel. He told me. “S-Shiro told me so…” he sobbed.

“Then why do still I feel like that?” Lance face scrunched up in agony. He was alone now so he could go throwing stuff around if he wanted to.

“Is it because I’m bothersome?” 

Look, even Hunk’s getting real pissed at you.

“I don’t know what to tell them anymore…” Lance felt the whining raise up his throat, he tried his best to suppress it. He had enough of it today. He tried his best to stop them from seeping out but to no avail. Something punched him even more forcefully in the chest because of how Hunk, his best friend, seemed like.

In the back of his mind he heard another set of insults pairing up with the recent ones he created for himself. The ones that said ‘you’re talentless in Voltron. You can easily be replaced. You know that best.’

His arms were then folded above his head and his chest covered the sink. He was jumping with each hiccup that rocked his ribs.

Tomorrow was Bonding Session. Where they all would receive the mind contraptions that linked each others thoughts together. So Lance had to calm himself enough to push them all down. Deeper than ever because today’s events made it seem more unsafe if he were to push them as far as he usually does (which was enough to cause all of them to have a blind eye.).

By the end of his episode, his eyes were glass. Meaning that his eyes, the windows to the soul, was blocked by a thick, impenetrable layer of material. His mind shut off, devoid of any emotions so that the team could continue with their daily necessities and think of Lance as the problem-free person he had made himself become. 


this is my first ever langst and i felt kinda depressed while writing this. Damn it why is my face wet? ;-;

Should I make a part 2 with the mind contraptions? i rly wanna kno what u think ;u

~ Munime ♡
The Nanny Part 9

Summary: When Bucky Barnes hired a Nanny, he thought he was going to hire someone to take care of the kid. But when she starts, he knows that she is more than just a Nanny

A/N: So…. I wrote this in like an hour and i hope it’s not crap??? 

Warnings: Mice?

Word Count:idk 1.4k almost  

The Nanny MasterList


Previously

Emily ran in with two towels and handed one to you, grabbed your hand and pulled you outside towards the pool.

With a coat of sunscreen on and some music playing through the speakers, the two of you began a mix of swimming and playing games, not noticing Bucky standing in the door way, a smile on his face and a feeling in his chest that he hadn’t felt in a very long time.

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“His Wedding” (Part 9)

Summery:  Modern-Day(AU) Bucky and you are former exes. He moved on but you couldn’t. Since you both are still friends, he asks you for a favor. You reluctantly agree, not thinking of the future consequences you’ll have to face. You just hope everything will go fine with your two best friends, Steve and Natasha by your side.

Word Count: 3857

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Genre: Romance/Drama

Warnings: heart wrenching angst, language.

Characters (by appearance): Bucky, Reader, Lily Parker, Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff.

A/N: This part made me too emotional and I cried several times and I had to take breaks from writing it because damn, it was too much. So far, the best chapter I’ve contributed to this series, and I really hope you guys like it!

Also I love Tom and Jerry.

Please leave me some comments to read when I wake up in the morning, so that they make my day! lol, love me, I’m needy.

Sorry for any typos :P

“His Wedding” Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

Previously on “His Wedding” :

“Yes. I’ll be your maid of honor, Lily.”

What do you call a mistake that’s been repeat twice? It’s called a habit. And my habit is to say yes no matter which situation it puts me in.

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H2O

Summary: You challenge Bucky not to laugh on your day off.

Pairing:  Bucky x Reader

Warnings: fluff, humour of the pun kind

Word Count: 1,491

A/N: this is my first fic ever posted here! I’d love any feedback, comments, questions, etc.  I’ve done this water challenge with friends, and let me tell you, it gets pretty crazy. 

I hope you enjoy!

Originally posted by sebuttianstans

“Wait…explain it to me again.”

“It’s called the Water Challenge, you have to fill up your cheeks with water.“

“And then see how fast I can drink this whole thing?” Bucky held up the water pitcher. “Newsflash, doll, my bladder can only hold so much.”

You giggled.  “No, you hold water in your mouth—I do it too, don’t give me that face—then we’ll try to make each other laugh. Whoever laughs and lets all the water fall out loses.”

“Where’d you find this?”

“Buzzfeed.”

“Of course it was Buzzfeed,” Bucky sighed, shaking his head slightly.

You were sitting crossed legged in the living room, movie cases strewn haphazardly on the coffee table and plates everywhere.  The team had left for a quick two-day mission, leaving you and Bucky alone in the tower. It was something you relished in, loving how you had Bucky all to yourself.  The two of you were best friends but recently your thoughts around him had taken a…different route. A more-than-friends route.

Taking the pitcher you filled both of the glasses with water and handed one to your opponent.

“But isn’t this better than another day filling out the paperwork Bruce left us?”

“True.  And I get to spend it with you,” he said, poking your nose with his index finger. You could feel yourself blush, so you busied yourself with smoothing down the carpet.  

Your lack of attention was a mistake. You yelped as he flicked his half-full glass at you. Mouth in a gaping ‘O’, you said, “I see how its going to be! What happened to Skeptical Bucky?”

“He’s still here, but it’s still a challenge, and I plan to win.  Got a problem with that doll?” An evil grin spread across his handsome face.

“Nope. Cause I’m going to win.”

“Mhm, keep telling yourself that. Let’s talk stakes.”  

“Okay.”   You watched him shift to refill his glass, your eyes gravitating towards his lips.  Then your mouth opened, and you surprised even yourself with what came out.  “If I win, you have to kiss me.”

The pitcher stopped as if time was frozen.  “And if I win?”

“Then I have to kiss you.”

Courage. Can’t say it’s not spontaneous.

Water dripped agonizingly slow into the cup, yet when your eyes met Bucky’s again, his were a shade darker blue than before.  “Sounds reasonable. Ready?”

You sat up straighter and both of you lifted your glass in a ‘cheers’ motion before downing it. The water sloshed around in your mouth; thank the stars you weren’t thirsty or this challenge would have been torture. You started off simple, wide then narrowed eyes, crossing them to look at your nose. Small smile. No water.  

Bucky’s turn.  He waggled his heavyset eyebrows to imitate the wave.  You arranged your face to show that he had to try harder.  As much as you wanted that kiss, you weren’t going to lose on purpose.

Back and forth the two of you devised creative ways to make each other laugh, but to no avail.  Bucky was a surprisingly good competitor; it wasn’t your first time playing the challenge, and truthfully you had been expecting to win right off the bat.  Time to up the intensity.  

You flicked his cheek, resulting in a hollow sound that nearly made you lose it when paired with his shocked expression.  Knowing Bucky as well as you did, you could imagine what he was thinking.

‘Did you just flick me?’

‘Whatcha going to do about it, old man?’

A jet of water was sprayed at your face in answer.

‘Alright.  No more Mrs. Nice Y/N’

You reached out and started to tickle his sides, an action that made him recoil back. Or so you thought. Movement happened, and suddenly Bucky sat smugly on your legs, pinning you to the ground.  Never breaking eye contact, he reached teasingly for the water pitcher and dangled it right above your face. His smirk was simultaneously as hot, and as terrifying as hell.

‘Nonononono’ you tried to wiggle out from under Bucky—-splash. You were utterly and completely soaked, as was the couch and the carpet beneath you. You sighed in resignation, pretending to be annoyed by Bucky’s muffled laughter. He was close to breaking…and off-balance, pumping his fists in premature victory, if you had anything to do with it.

You used your training to flip him over so you were straddling him.  Grabbing a pillow off the couch, you promptly dropped it from your height onto his head.  To add insult to injury you spit all your water on your best friends’ face after he pushed the pillow off.  

“Who’s wet now!”  

This time Bucky couldn’t hold it in and he gasped out his water; you could feel his laughs resonating through your legs, and you realized what a compromising position you were in.

Apparently, Bucky was thinking the same thing.  His hands moved to rest on your waist, one warm, one cool; your eyes watched as his sinful tongue flicked out to make his lips more inviting. The mood of the room had quickly switched from playful to something deeper, more intimate.

“Well, doll. I think I won.”

“Yeah…guess you did.”

You both knew what that meant. The courage from earlier crept back. Your fingers weaved their way into his soft locks, and you finally leaned down so those captivating blue eyes were closer closer, parted lips closerclosercloser

“Good evening Mr. Stark, welcome home.”  

A ding of the elevator and F.R.I.D.A.Y.  startled you enough to tumble off Bucky. You scampered onto the couch before the team could come down the hall.

Why oh why did they have to come back now? You stole a nervous glance at the boy you were about to kiss not ten seconds ago.

Slowly, Bucky pushed himself up to lean against the opposite couch, cleared his throat, and used both hands to push back his hair.  That tongue swiped at his lips again and it was all you could do to stay on the couch.  You swore you could see an expression of frustration cross his features when your teammates emerged from around the corner, but you were probably just hoping.  Really hoping.  

“Hey you two,” Steve greeted.  The chorus of ‘hellos’ followed from the rest of the team. Sam and Tony whizzed over the fridge, Nat took a seat at the island, and the others drifted off to their respective rooms.

“Hey,” you said.  Your fingers fiddled with the bottom of your pants and you fought to keep your attention on Steve’s report of their success.

“It was an open-and-shut case, we just went in and the scientists confessed immediately,” he said, “it’s actually nice to have people cooperate with us for once.”

“Less discus,” Tony mumbled through his sandwich.

Clint returned to sit on the couch.  You and Bucky exchanged an alarmed look, all awkward gone–he ducked his head away, shoulders shaking. You had to cover your mouth with your hand for fear of bursting out laughing.

“Why is the floor so wet?!”

“Blame Buzzfeed!” you yelled, grabbing Bucky’s hand and escaping to your room.  

“That game was absolutely ridiculous, Y/N,” he chuckled, shutting the door behind him. “I’m soaked.”

“Gives a new meaning to ‘within spitting distance’ huh?”

He took a few steps closer. “You know what? I think I’d prefer to be within kissing distance.”

Your heart skipped a beat; you didn’t hope after all. “Well, currently, we have no other options.”

Bucky titled his head. “Was that a water pun?”

“…maybe.”

“You’ve gotta stop doing that,” he laughed slightly and looked up at the ceiling.

“Doing what?” you asked with a taunting grin. Bucky reached out and tucked a loose piece of hair behind your ear. His hand lingered, cupping your cheek.

“Saying things that make me want to kiss you.”

Your heart was beating so fast you were sure he could hear it. Feel it too, since he leaned in so his forehead rested against yours.

“What if I told you not only was that one pun, it was two.”

“Then I’d have to do this.”

Bucky lowered his lips to meet yours, the moment you had dreamed of for so long.  The kiss was soft and gentle and chaste at first. Then Bucky’s arms encircled your waist, and you reached up and tangled yours around his neck, adding more pressure to your lips, deepening the kiss.  Your parted lips opened further, allowing your tongues to earnestly say hello. Finally you pulled apart, arms still around one another.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for so long…”

“Me too,” you breathed.

“I think I like winning.” The corner of his mouth twitched up in a lopsided grin.  

“Don’t get used to it, I demand a rematch.” You bumped his nose with yours. “But later,” you said, pulling him in for another kiss, “we haven’t completed the stakes yet.”

_______________________________________________________________

tagging some of my favourites and inspiration because I’m new and I really admire you :) 

a big thank you to @fxckmebuck for being amazing with writing, and all the tips and encouragement! 

@buckyywiththegoodhair @avengerofyourheart @bovaria @wndas-romanoff @thejamesoldier @caplanbuckybarnes @softcorehippos @papi-chulo-bucky@buckybarnesismypreciousplum @mangosoldier 

(let me know if you want to be untagged)

Ghost Side Of Bpd:

The thing is; I don’t want to get better anymore.

My life is a mess, and I know that I need to get back on my feet, move on and start again. Start trying again, start getting better again, start smiling and start hoping again. I know and aware that I am wasting my youth in a room. Alone and sad.

But I don’t want to.

I want to hide in this room, slowly fade away. Die in my sleep, let people forget that I exist. See, that is the problem I face everyday.

It is like trying to cross the street blindfolded, while carrying a fish in a glass jar.

You are scared, you don’t know which way to go, but you know you have to go.

You are also worried about small things, like a fish in your hands, but they mean a lot, because it is a matter of life for you.

But you don’t even know if the fish is still there, if it dropped out of the glass or if it is already dead.

You can hear the cars moving around, you know you have to be quick, because they are quick and you are like a giant rock on the road, making other peoples life harder for them.

So you get scared that one of them is going to get angry with you and hurt you.

There are people everywhere, telling you move to that side and this side. Every step you take towards one is always a problem for another person, so whatever you do you get yelled at.

You are shaking with fear but they just laugh. You get ashamed, just want to drop to the ground and cry your eyes out. But you are simply not allowed. You have to move.

But the scariest thing is that you don’t even know how you ended up there or where you are trying to go.

All you know is how you got hit by all those cars on the road, and the scars you can feel around your body.

There is only one thing everyone; people that passing by in cars, people that are trying to “help” you, people that are laughing at you agreed on.

It is your fault.

This is what it feels like to try to live with bpd.

And that is why I want to die.

Me running away from responsibilities