i just love this picture a lot and i miss him

Ok but can we talk about how the Paladin’s bayards don’t just suit them, but actually ARE them? THE BAYARD PICKS THE PALADIN, MR. POTTER.

The bayards are frankly the coolest metaphorical device happening in this show and I haven’t seen anyone talk about it yet (I’m sure someone has, but I feel like it’s not really… a thing??), and if my major has taught me any(useless)thing it’s to get stuck on functional motifs in storytelling so

Keith

I mean this is just fun. You’re probably not surprised that he gets the big blade because he’s main-character-red and the emo/possibly-Asian-one, but let’s consider a few things: 

The fact that it’s sharp on both sides acts as a physical reminder of the duality happening within his character (he cuts others down, but internally he’s cutting himself down just as much: a double-edged sword). 

Furthermore, that double edge reminds us that it’s a loner’s weapon: he needs to be able to attack with each swing, in any direction, because no one’s coming to back him up. It may be space, but dude is clearly rockin’ the lone wolf/samurai vibe. The length backs that up a bit as well–it keeps everyone he sees as an ‘enemy’ or a ‘rival’ at a distance (//side-eye @ lance). 

What’s even more interesting is that if you look at Keith’s relationship with his bayard compared to his Marmora blade, they represent his hidden and public selves: who people see him as/expect him to be vs. who he truly is and wants to be (is afraid to be) himself. 

Most people only see his bayard, a classic warrior/knight weapon that represents strength and grace and leadership. Keith brings this out in battle, in front of his friends, before enemies, etc. But when he’s alone at night or when he’s holed up in the desert, the blade on his mind and in his hand is his Marmora dagger. Despite being a secret for so long, it is actually this blade (and not the bayard he got from Voltron) which Keith always keeps close to him (and which he keeps strictly concealed). 

He covers up the mark on the hilt as if to cover his own hidden thoughts and feelings (and maybe even dubious past). In public, he feels he can proudly show his bayard but doesn’t want anyone to know he has the dagger, even before he himself knows what it might mean. 

Even more interestingly, this blade also represents close combat–letting people get close to you–and the desire to protect others, showing that these are things Keith thinks about, feels, and even wants, but is afraid to show to those around him. What’s more, while the obvious skills and general cool-dude-ness associated with the bayard are something Keith has earned/achieved by his own merit, the Marmora dagger (and all the things it represents) were something he was born with; something inherently part of him. Ironically, once Keith learns more about his dagger and what it represents, it becomes longer–it adds distance, just as the truth about his past puts distance between him and the other paladins.

Like, I could literally (gladly) write an entire essay just on the symbolism of how Keith treats these blades, but you get the idea. 

I was gonna do Shiro next but his is even sadder than Keith’s so let’s do

Pidge

So some things about this are obvious: it bears a (kind of adorable similarity) in shape to her head. It’s small, she’s small, but if you underestimate either of them you will be sorry. It’s an incredibly quick/nimble weapon (a great parallel for her stinging wit). Her bayard is designed for quick, surgically precise movements, which is exactly how Pidge works (both mentally and metaphorically).

However, while it has great attack capabilities, that’s clearly not the bayard’s (or Pidge’s) main purpose; it’s a necessary consequence in the pursuit of other goals. Rather, the transformative and flexible uses of Pidge’s bayard emphasize the desire to be useful and to solve problems over attacking. This is belied by the fact that Pidge forms Voltron’s shield. Pidge would much rather think her way out of/around a problem than charge in head-first

Her bayard is a reflection of that. Pidge’s bayard is also the most technically complicated, which is another great parallel for her mind. Furthermore, the grappling hook function of her bayard echoes her desire to find things out of reach, and cast out into space and bring those things close to her, or herself to them (*cough*MATT*cough*). 

TL;DR: it’s an all-purpose, unassuming weapon meant to perform multiple tasks in an efficient, creative way, and it focuses on problem solving/extraction more than brute attack (though it packs plenty of punch when cornered). And, of course, though she be but little, she is fierce.

Lance

As his swagger (and even his name, like talk about being on the nose) suggests, Lance is totally in-your-face, up-in-your-business blabbermouth who seems pretty simple to understand. So why does he have the weapon that arguably requires the most finesse, patience, and also has a long range? Because that’s what Lance is really like under all that talk. It may seem like Lance lives with the words “are we there yet” on his tongue, but consider this: Lance wanted to be a pilot, but was originally relegated to commercial-class ranks. Did that stop him? Nope. He kept at it until he made it to the top of those ranks (it’s safe to assume that if they only promoted one pilot to fighter-class after Keith’s expulsion, it would be the top of the commercial-class students). That’s more patience than any of the other paladins have shown.

As a gun in a team that has close-combat weapons, Lance’s bayard automatically assumes a supportive role (despite all his talk about beating Keith and being the best), and we see this multiple times throughout the show. His first day as a fighter-class pilot, what does Lance do? Talks to his team and says they should stick together. How does he find out about Shiro? He’s following Pidge and asking about what she’s up to–crazy theories that others wouldn’t care to hear out. There are a lot of other examples of this (notably, when he throws himself in front of Coran), but from the get-go we’re slyly shown that Lance actually cares about and pays attention to those around him (even though he keeps talking about kicking their butts and being #1). It makes sense, then, that his weapon would be one designed to support and provide cover for others. In fact, we see Lance doing exactly this in the first episode when Pidge mouths off and he rushes in to cover for her.

Sadly, as one of the longer-range weapons, Lance’s bayard is also one of the loneliest metaphors in the group, and we see the reason for this just as much in VLD: Lance doesn’t feel appreciated (or sometimes even accepted) by the people around him. He often feels distant, though not by choice. He may shoot (ha) his mouth off a lot, but at the end of the day it’s pretty apparent that this boy craves love and attention, almost as much as he wants to be perceived as a ‘top gun’ (double ha) within the group.

A gun–especially the rapid-fire type that Lance has–further mirrors his tendency to be impulsive (and even impetuous) rather than controlled and thoughtful. On the bright side, though, it is exactly that willingness to pull the trigger that has catapulted the gang forward on a number of occasions.

Shiro

Between Shiro’s arm and his bayard there are so many different things going on here I don’t even know how I can touch on all of them. If I could write an essay on Keith’s weapons, I could write a BOOK on Shiro’s.

First, let’s talk about Shiro’s actual bayard. In Zarkon’s hands, you can read this as a physical extension of Shiro’s freedom, or even as Shiro himself: Zarkon took the bayard–something meant to be used for good–from another world, and then warped it in the hopes of using it to cause destruction. 

The good news is that both Shiro and the bayard escape Zarkon’s clutches because of Voltron, and though Zarkon intended to use them, they instead become the strongest weapons to fight against him. They will always feel the effects of Zarkon’s influence and ownership–the bayard because of Zarkon’s former paladin connections, and Shiro because of his arm and PTSD–but they still fight. In the end, it is Zarkon’s obsession with them as his former ‘possessions’ that becomes his downfall. So deep is his trauma that Shiro actually waits until it looks like they’re about to die (when Voltron is in an electric headlock) to activate his bayard. Why? Because he doesn’t trust his arm, he doesn’t trust his hold on the bayard or the lion (don’t even get me STARTED on how the lion–down it’s right-hand weapon and still somewhat under Zarkon’s control–represents Shiro himself), and as a result he doesn’t trust himself to be stronger than Zarkon. 

Even when Shiro finally gets the bayard back, he doesn’t call it his bayard, or the black bayard; he calls it Zarkon’s bayard (and it looks the part). This can be seen as a mirror for how Shiro sees himself: even though it’s a bayard, Zarkon tainted it, and now it doesn’t belong to him even though it’s rightfully his and he has it in his hands (which, ironically, is still technically Zarkon’s hand… you get the picture).

However, as Keith corrects him (”you’ve got your bayard”), the bayard rejects the changes Zarkon forced upon it, and reverts to a form that matches Shiro and the other paladins (likely how it looked before Zarkon started using it for evil). Just as the paladins healed Shiro by rescuing him and making him part of Voltron, Shiro does the same for the black bayard. Indeed, he only pulls out the power necessary to retrieve the black bayard once he wakes up to find the team fighting to protect him. It might be telling symbolically that Shiro leaves his bayard behind when he goes missing at the end of the season–perhaps he’s won his freedom only to have it taken once again.

 Which leads me to… 

The black bayard could also represent Shiro’s memories: both are known to exist, and we get hints/flashes/teases throughout the show, but both are initially “lost”. Slowly, it is revealed just how both Shiro’s bayard and his memories have been taken/corrupted by Zarkon. We see this in the way Shiro’s memories haunt him, only to frustratingly elude  him when he needs them. When Shiro finally tries to find out more about why Zarkon has the bayard, he’s also facing his own mind–his memories, his insecurities, and his apprehension at what fate awaits him–as well.  In this sense, when Shiro reclaims the black bayard, he is also reclaiming so much more: the hold/fear Zarkon held over him, the insufficiency and anxiety he felt because of it, etc. 

You can also read the bayard as a mirror for Shiro’s arm: Zarkon took Shiro’s arm and replaced it with something Galran. Shiro joins Voltron only to find that Zarkon also has his metaphorical right hand–his weapon. Shiro can’t use the weapon he should be holding (in a hand he doesn’t have because of Zarkon) because Zarkon took it. Talk about a vicious cycle. This symbolism is supported all through season 1 and parts of season 2 where we see Shiro simultaneously struggle with controlling Zarkon’s lasting effects on Voltron and coming to grips (ha) with controlling his arm. It’s hinted–both during battle and through PTSD–that if Shiro doesn’t control his arm, it will control him, just as Zarkon demonstrates that if Shiro can’t reclaim the bayard, Zarkon will use it to kill him (we see a similar parallel with his memories). 

I’m just going to stop here because the black bayard and Shiro’s arm can represent so many different things that it totally distracts me and I can only really do it justice by literally sitting down and writing out a full on dissertation on it.

But TL;DR: Shiro’s arm and his bayard are in a crazy, soap-opera drama with Zarkon on so many different levels and it is symbolistically incredible.

Hunk

Hunk’s bayard, much like Hunk, is pretty straight-forward and simple. Physically, it’s a big weapon. A big, hulking (Hunking????) weapon. It looks incredibly imposing, but its chief function isn’t destruction, but preventing destruction. Just as Hunk likes to avoid violence, his canon is mostly used to disable enemy weapons as part of Voltron, and individually Hunk uses it to provide long-range cover fire for his team (when he tries to use it in a more actively combative role, he just ends up almost shooting Pidge… gg, Hunk). 

Unlike Lance’s more nimble and quick-fire weapon, Hunk’s takes a lot of strength to move around and a long time to power up–this mirrors Hunk’s own well-rooted stance (he’s not easily swayed), and his cautious nature. He doesn’t do things off-the-cuff or on a whim; he thinks them through first. Indeed, it’s almost always Hunk warning the others of the possible outcomes of their proposed escapades. 

He’s also slow to anger, just as his weapon is slow to fire. However, once he has decided to take a shot, his firepower is incredible, just as when he does decide to take action (like with the Balmerans), his will is unstoppable. 

I could go on for days, guys. I have so much stuff I had to cut out because even the hardcorest Voltron fans don’t care about underlying motifs this much, I know, but AGH. GUYS. GUYS. THE BEAUTY??? OF THIS WRITING??? IN A KIDS’ SHOW????? 

Bless.

PS this is long I didn’t proof read it SO SUE ME

ikke snakk til meg
  • we open with sana reciting this surah, which i see as an effort from sana to try and regain focus on her faith (but you should ask the muslims in the fandom <3)
  • very violent online abuse flashes before her eyes, apparently from when she was in middle school (here’s a detailing of the abuse)
  • once again, sana’s prayer is interrupted (it’s always interrupted either by an external character, or by her own thoughts…at the end of the series we’ll see her pray uninterrupted and it will be gorgeous)
  • we get this beautiful shot of literal and metaphorical self reflection. sana is broken after the latest events and she is now trying to pick herself back up (so, of course, she tries to go back to the beginning: the sana we first saw on the show, before it all started)
  • adding the above piece of art for reasons (like to charge/reblog to cast)
  • we’ve seen sana wear very loose hijabs this season, i remember people commenting on it. here, she tightens the fabric around her neck. i see it as her trying to protect herself. she needs all the extra strength she can get. all the extra fabric between her and the world.
  • she tries to reach out for the only friend (we know of) she could have left: jamilla. but we see they never got closure on the “sharmutta incident” and, when sana scrolls up, she is reminded of how much her and jamilla differ from one another. and she gives up.
  • quick note: i am not too happy too see jamilla painted as this hating muslimah but i’ll wait until the end of the series. her comment “i was just trying to protect you” reminds me a lot of sonja, who i hated really badly when she confronted isak during the hotel scene. but who redeemed herself and explained her behaviour in the end.
  • we see their last messages are from january 2016, so just after season 1 if i’m not mistaken? the tension started then and that’s probably why sana and her were already at war during season 2.
  • anyone knows what game the norwegians are playing at the school? it looks like a dance of some sorts: the way they’re placed and the couple is running in between the two groups…
  • isak is wearing a dandelion. from twitter: løvetannbarn (dandelion child) means person that has survived almost impossible upbringing.
  • this time, the lyrics are so on the nose even the beautiful subbers decided to translate some of them: an even song. to me, reminiscent of all the rumours spread about him paralleling the rumours spread about sana right now.
  • we see the pictures from the teaser: isak’s eye, sara (same jacket), noora…
    we’re missing the brown hair with a hand ruffling them and the carrot munching (but i feel like the carrot bit was more symbolic than anything)
  • sana is back to the beginning (see above) except, this time, it’s reversed: she’s not joining the girl squad and the russbuss. she’s leaving both.
  • liar liar pants on fire
  • and she’s not trying to show, like in her first clip where she sassed vilde and told her being a russ was punished by stoning, that she can and will become a russ. she’s instead using her faith as a reason for why she doesn’t want to be a russ. very flippening, much reversal.
  • sana goes to class and…
  • the book is open on a page about dandelions.
  • which brings me to the symbolism of the dandelion. according to google, dandelion translates to “dent de lion” in french which means “lion’s tooth” (i can vouch for that), summoning the symbolic meaning of lions: courage, pride, family (connection/communication). the dandelion is also a sun symbol (#sanasol).
  • we get this exchange that i LOVE but that, unfortunately, is getting misunderstood: sana and isak are awkward around each other but both really want to talk to each other. sana, after looking at isak’s very obvious blackeye, glances at the dandelion in his hair. isak scoffs and takes it off.
    you can’t take a black eye off. you can’t get rid of that barrier between two people. but you can take a flower off. i feel like the flower, here, is a perfect way for them to (in the sweetest way) break the ice. our attention is briefly redirected from the (devastating) black eye to the (hopeful) flower and, for a moment, everything is OK.

[cont. after the “read more”]

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Literally just all the sexual things Alexander Hamilton sent to John Laurens


“I love you.”

This one is pretty self explanatory. Men were much more intimate back in the 1700′s, forming bonds that seem very ~gay~ in today’s light. Homosexuality wasn’t a very understood thing back then because rigid moral codes and censured education prevented people from learning more about sexuality.

 But Alexander Hamilton knew.

 He grew up on an island where ‘Sodomites’ (gay people) were dumped and  allowed to mingle with the island population. Alex knew that there was a certain zone of interactions between men that went from being merely friendly to sexual. He clearly steps into the bounds of sexual while fully realizing it.

“In drawing my picture, you will no doubt be civil to your friend; mind you do justice to the length of my nose and don’t forget, that I [- - - - - -].”

Ahhhhhhhhh my son Alex, could you be more explicit? Alex here is obviously referring to his something else (you know) with the knowledge that John Lauren’s knows the size. This sentence right here is basically just one long ;).

 “Your friend” seems to be written teasingly, as if they both know how far from friends they are.

And we can only guess how dirty Alex got in those last six  CUT OUT words.

“Dear Boy” [sent by John Laurens]

John laurens calls his wife his ‘dear girl’, and here he calls Alex his ‘dear boy’.  Moreover, Laurens did not call any other man he ever wrote to as his ‘dear boy’. Laurens seems to see Alex as on the same level, if not higher, as his own wife.

“Did I mean to show my wit? If I did, I am sure I have missed my aim. Did I only intend to [frisk]? In this I have succeeded, but I have done more. I have gratified my feelings, by lengthening out the only kind of intercourse now in my power with my friend.”

This phrase right here I unfortunately do not see a lot when people talk about Alex and John’s letters. This, to me, is one of the most explicit. “Wit” also mean one’s you know what (here I give a nod to the Ravenclaw moto), so Hamilton’s saying he was pretty much just messing around with John the last letter he sent. This is the only sort of “intercourse” he is able to have with John, as they are both so far apart. He is incapable of ‘sexual’ intercourse because of their distance, so he feels he must, in the 18th century way, sext.

“I would invite you after the fall to Albany to be witness to the final consummation.”

As you might have already guessed, Alex is inviting John to a threesome on his wedding night. The idea that Alex feels so at ease inviting John to a threesome with his wife suggests they have already had something going for a long time now. 

“But like a jealous lover, when I thought you slighted my caresses, my affection was alarmed and my vanity piqued. I had almost resolved to lavish no more of them upon you and to reject you as an inconstant and an ungrateful –”

Here Alex compares himself to John’s lover, and a jealous one at that. John seems to be shying away from Alex’s bawdiness, as if realizing how strange their relationships is in retrospect. Alex is scrambling to hang on to him, even though he knows well what are and what happens to Sodomites. He would do anything for John while knowing the consequences. And John is too afraid to join him. And who the hell knows what the last word was.

“And believe me, I am lover in earnest,”

*cough cough* looks like John knows exactly what happens when Alex’s feeling frisky.

“She [Eliza] loves you a l'americaine not a la francoise.”

The French were renowned for their relaxed stance on extramarital love affairs, while Americans were more Puritan-minding and thought love affairs only should happen in church-sanctioned marriages. Thus Eliza has an a l’americaine love of John Laurens, rather than an a la francoise.

“You will be pleased to recollect in your negotiations that I have no invincible antipathy to the maidenly beauties & that I am willing to take the trouble of them upon myself.”

*cough* this sentence is a bit confusing, and could be taken a few ways. What I infer from this is that Alexander Hamilton is willing, and John knows this, to assume an air of femininity because he finds no fault with it. It was commonly noted by people who wrote of Hamilton that he was very feminine in comparison with other men of his day. Alex’s femininity seems to please John, the topic even having been discussed between the two in ‘negotiations’.

“My ravings are for your own bosom” Alex desperately misses Laurens’ intimate contact in a way that, in my opinion, could never be mistaken as simply friendship. Alex literally wants to be held by John. How fucking heartbreaking is that.

“Yrs for ever”

Ok, this one isn’t sexual, but I had to add it because it is so heartbreaking. This was Alex’s last farewell note to John. That is, if he even received it. He died shortly after Alex sent the letter; whether he read the farewell or not is all lost to history. Alex loved John so much, despite the fact that both already had a wife. He would have always loved him, even if they had grown apart…

That’s it folks: time for me to cry.

our little family pt.1 | park jimin

Pairing: Father! Jimin + Reader 

Genre: Fluff/Angst + parent au 

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: You were just a pre-school teacher, a simple dream that came true as you always adored children. But what you didn’t know, was how one child and her very special father would change you dream forever. 

Parts: 1 2

“Jieun-ah, please.” Jimin sighed, as he tried putting her arms through the sleeves of her baby pink coat, which she shrugged back off again for the nth time making Jimin let out a soft groan in exasperation.

“Jieun-ah…” Jimin pleaded.

“I don’t want to go to school daddy.” Jieun said softly, pouting as she looked at her dad with round eyes, the corners watering slightly as Jimin felt his resolve weaken at the sight of his daughter before him.

Sighing, he grabbed her hands and put on a large grin, “Jieun-ah, It’ll be fun!” he tried cheering, “Daddy had loved going to school all his life (what a lie) and really wished he could go again.”

“Then why don’t you come with me?” Jieun asked, tugging at the ends of her little pale blue sundress, the color contrasting strongly against her raven blank hair that tumbled around her shoulders in soft curls.

Cradling her face in his hands, her cheeks squishing up together making Jimin chuckle slightly, he said, “Daddy’s too old now, but if anything happens I’ll be there for you, alright? Do you wanna go now? I promise it’ll be great.”

“Pinky promise?” Jieun asked, holding out her pinky to Jimin’s face as he laughed a little, hooking her tiny pinky within his and bringing them together before pressing a small kiss to her hands, “I promise baby.”

“Hi guys!! Welcome! Hello!” you smiled happily as the kids walked one by one into your class, all their faces with expressions that varied, some happy, some mad, some scared and some with tears and snot dripping from their little noses.

Oh children. 

“There you go Jieun-ah, I’ll pick you up in a couple hours okay?”

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in which jack and shitty accidentally date

based on a dream I had, I present: a short semi-fic about Jack and Shitty and their day-long, beautiful relationship.

Basically, this is what happens:

At a kegster during their freshmen year, in which Shitty is running around being the life of the party even though he’s a freshman, Jack is also in attendance– talking to Berger and Marsh in the kitchen. Jack is there, partly to keep an eye on Shitty, partly because he is surprised by how much he does like some of the guys on his team, mostly because they had won today and Jack is in quite a good mood. Not a good enough mood that he is going to risk going into the living room where music is blasting, but in a good enough mood that he is holding a solo cup of beer and chilling in the kitchen, chatting with Berger and Marsh. He is at ease as Jack ever is– laughing good naturedly as they tease both him and each other and of course, this is when the trouble starts.

The trouble is this: Marsh is drunk and excited that Jack has actually shown up to a Haus kegster and since Jack seems to be in a good mood, Marsh decides to take a risk and ask Jack a Question. More specifically, Marsh rams an friendly elbow into Jack’s ribs and goes:

“Yo, Zimmermann, you like anyone on campus yet?”

A few months prior, that question would have made Jack freeze up. But now, Jack smiles easily (because honestly, it is a rather respectful question– “like” instead of “fuck”; “anyone” instead of assuming “girl”) and he certainly doesn’t want to get into his romantic history or lack of crushes so he smiles, shrugs, and says

“Nah, love’s shitty,” It’s still friendly and he smiles and asks Berg about his crush that the whole team knows about and that should be that.

The problem, however, is that what Alex Berger and Carter Marsh heard was not “Nah, love’s shitty,” but “I’m in love with Shitty.”

Which, of course, is a much bigger deal. 

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Sweet Creature

Click here if you’d like to listen to the song to help set the mood. x

It was one of those days.

Harry adored his job. He really did. His work was his first love, he always said. But there were certainly days where it all got to be a little too much.

He woke up at six in the morning to be greeted by a rainy and foggy sky outside. He spent a good ten minutes gazing at the great love of his life, her hair splayed in all different directions from having forgotten to tie it up in a ponytail like she usually did. Her lips were slightly parted, and her eyes were still puffy from the night before. He exhaled a sigh at the memory of it—it was the first time they’d really fought in a little while, but it’d been a doozy. Exhaustion took it’s toll on the both of them, but they were both too stubborn to admit it. It had been over something petty that he wasn’t even angry about anymore, even though at the moment in all seemed so important. And even though they tried to never go to bed angry, their tired eyes beat out the need to make up.

He exhaled a soft sigh as he watched his love, and he could see the tension built up in her features still from last night. He didn’t want to wake her just yet, because he knew that she would not love being woken up at six in the morning if she didn’t need to get up. The two of them rarely ever got a good night’s sleep anymore, and he didn’t want to take away her rest.

He got himself out of bed and walked over to the bathroom, going about his morning routine as quietly as possible as to not wake his girls. Within half an hour he was dressed up in a pair of black jeans and one of his button-ups. Usually he wouldn’t get so dolled up to go out this early, but he had a few morning radio shows he was making a live guest appearance on and impressions mattered to him. Having decided to get breakfast on the way to work, he quickly slipped out of the house without making a sound.

The rest of the day didn’t get any better.

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Dating Tom Holland Would Include....

  • Constantly bickering with Harrison on who Tom loves more. 
  • Always winning these fights
  • “Sorry mate, but have you seen her? She’s absolutely stunning.”
  • Having all sorts of adventures with Tom and Harrison
  • Because let’s face it, wherever Tom goes, Harrison follows.
  •  But never really minding because as long as Tom is around, so are you.
  • Tom always making sure that you’re okay. 
  • “You sure, love? Okay. I just want to make sure my girl is happy.” 
  • Him wrapping his arms around you every chance he gets.
  • Calling you every kind of cute nickname in the book because he can never just pick one.
  • “Babe, love, doll, sweetie, beautiful, gorgeous, cutie, honey,” All of them.
  • Sometimes finding himself just staring at you because he can not believe how lucky he is to have you.
  • Having to break up Tom and Harrison’s arguments on who loves you more. 
  • “Enough, you two. I swear you guys are like little kids fighting over a toy, and I am NOT a toy.” 
  • “Course you’re not, babe. But, I do love you more than Haz.” 
  • “I know you do. Why do you think I’m with you.” 
  • Tom leaving you with little notes that he placed everywhere.
  • “Hey babe, I love you!”
  • “Did you know you’re amazing?”
  • “You’re my girl, don’t ever forget.” 
  • “Call me when you find this!” 
  • “I could stare you forever.” 
  • “You’re the first and last person on my mind.” 
  • “I miss you.” 
  • Tom begging you to go with him everywhere because he just doesn’t want to leave you. 
  • “Please come with me.” 
  • “No, Tom. I have to work-”
  • “-but, I’m Spiderman. You don’t have to work.” 
  • “Did you just seriously use that line on me?”
  • “Did it work?” 
  • “Absolutely not, you dork. I love you, I do but I promise I’ll come visit. Okay?”
  • “Fine, but you better.” 
  • Always, always feeling guilty because you know that sometimes he gets a little bit of anxiety and stressed and you seem to be the only remedy. 
  • Flying out on the next flight possible.
  • And immediately all the stress and anxious thoughts are thrown out the window the minute he sees you. 
  • Him always whispering in your ear, “Thank you.” 
  • Always reassuring him that he’s earned all the success in his life.
  • Sometimes feeling a little scared that he’ll forget you with his oncoming fame. 
  • Tom reading you like a book and breaking these thoughts from your head. 
  • “You do know that I love you right? And that I wouldn’t be here without you. I’d be a wreck if I ever lost you. Don’t ever think for one second that I could make it without you.” 
  • Feeling reassured until the next time you felt scared. 
  • Tom always going above and beyond in his gifts for you on birthdays, anniversaries, and just because he want to’s. 
  • Him surprising you with a vacation to a place you’ve always wanted to visit. 
  • Following him basically anywhere and everywhere because he will literally get on his hands and knees to beg.
  • Forcing you to play basketball with him even though you know that there’s a reason why you’re not a pro basketball player. 
  • But always seeming to win.
  • Knowing that he lets you.
  • But never questioning it because it was his way of spending time with you.
  • Spending time with his family.
  • Because in a way, they’re your second family.
  • Tom’s mother commenting on how happy she is that Tom has found himself a wonderful girl.
  • His father agreeing one hundred percent and cracking jokes as to when they should expect the wedding.
  • His brothers always teasing Tom about how much you have him wrapped around your finger.
  • Blushing because you would never want him to be “whipped”, but it’s nice to know that you have that power.
  • Tom clapping back with, “At least I’ve got a girlfriend.” 
  • Laughing when they’d all get into a wrestling match.
  • “If I win, [Y/N] is mine!”
  • “No, if I win, [Y/N] mine!”
  • “Bloody Hell! You gits think you’re actually going to win? [Y/N] will always be mine, whether or not I do lose.” 
  • Going to the gym with him.
  • Getting distracted because by God those muscles should be illegal.
  • Him knowing it and teasing you about it.
  • Always getting back at him by doing anything and everything that shows of your figure.
  • Tom throwing down his weights and attacking you with kisses. 
  • Him always being respectful of your boundaries. 
  • Never pushing you to do things you don’t want to do. 
  • You loving him for it.
  • Knowing that you will eventually let him but just not right now because you’re not ready.
  • And him being perfectly okay with that.
  • Sparring with him.
  • Tom being beyond impressed at your skills.
  • Telling you everyday how much he loves you.
  • Begging him to take you to go get icecream even though he can’t really have any.
  • Scolding him when he says, “fuck it,” and gets himself some. 
  • “You’re trainer is going to be pissed.”
  • “So what.” 
  • Shaking your head and enjoying your icecream date with him.
  • Taking Tess out for walks together.
  • Taking a million pictures of her because she’s just so damn cute.
  • Lazy days with Tess
  • Cuddling the poor dog into suffocation until she can’t take it anymore and leaves.
  • Leaving you two clinging onto each other.
  • Tom leaving trails of kisses along your forehead.
  • Holding you tight.
  • Falling asleep in each other’s arms. 
  • Waking up in the middle of night, panicking because your parents are going to freak out.
  • Tom shooting out of bed to get you home.
  • Him trying to help you sneak into your house without your parents waking up.
  • Him mumbling that the two of you should just move out together.
  • Telling him that it would be a good idea but to talk about it later.
  • Tom always gushing about you in interviews.
  • Always being his plus one to the films you want to see.
  • Introducing you to your favorite actors.
  • Getting embarrassed when Robert Downey Jr. finally gets to meet you.
  • “SO, this is the girl you never shut up about? It’s about damn time I finally meet her. [Y/N], it’s so lovely to meet you. I feel like I practically know you with the amount of stuff Tom has told me about you.” 
  • Also getting a little embarrassed but not as embarrassed as when fans stop you on the streets.
  • Getting panicky because you’re just waiting for the hate.
  • But being surprised when it’s nothing but love and awe.
  • Agreeing to take pictures with them and asking to take one of them so you can put it on Instagram as well. 
  • Speaking of Instagram, Tom is forever posting sly pictures of you. 
  • You are literally all over his page.
  • But, it’s okay because he is all over yours.
  • You’ve been trending on #couplegoals for days
  • Threatening Tom with his life if he doesn’t stop posting the selfies you send him. 
  • Him not caring.
  • “I’ll take my chances, babe.”
  • Getting him back on snapchat with the crazy filters.
  • Agreeing to tone down the embarrassing pictures. 
  • But one or two always comes leaking out and you are forever mortified. 
  • Starting a prank war. 
  • You always seeming to have better pranks.
  • Feeling bad and deciding to call it off but not before Tom gets you really good. 
  • Laying out under the stars and talking about the future.
  • Telling each other that as long as you have each other, the future can bring whatever it wants.
  • Tom surprising you with a promise ring. 
  • “We’re both still really young and I know a lot of people our age are getting married but I just can’t imagine getting married at this moment. But at least with this, it’s a promise that you will have my last name, just not right now.” 
  • You accepting it because there is not a damn soul on this earth aside from Tom that you could see yourself with.
Leather Jackets - Bucky Barnes AU

Request: “Can you make a Bucky imagine in which he’s like the bad boy who is really cool and falls for y/n and is super sweet around her?” // I did it as a Greaser AU because I was listening to the Grease soundtrack while writing lol

Word Count: 1167 // My requests are still open!!


The Greasers didn’t like to be messed with. If you’re not at their level, you can’t speak to them. You go near them, you’re dead.

Pacing quickly down the sidewalk, you avoided the glare of the boys in the red Chevrolet parked across the street. A message alert on your phone made you stop, pulling your phone out of your pocket.

Steve: Just overheard that the Greasers are gonna be at the coffee shop. Be careful.

Mentally groaning in fear of anyone hearing you, you slipped into the door of the cafe, walking with your head down.

“Hi, uh, Miss? What would you like?” The barista grinned at you, as you looked up from your phone. “Sorry, can I just have a juice please?”

“What’s your name?” She asked, holding your cup in one hand and a sharpie in the other. “Y/N.” You pronounced, smiling back.

Soon enough, your name was called and you took your drink, walking out of the store.

You looked around before pushing the door open, seeing the Chevrolet had moved. Breathing a sigh of relief, you pushed the door open and began your walk home.

Going to grab your phone from your back pocket, you bumped into someone.

Feeling a hand on your back, you looked up, making direct eye contact with one of the leaders of the greaser gang, Bucky Barnes.

“I am so sorry, I really wasn’t concentrating. I should look where I’m going, sorr-” You mumbled, rambling away, “Hey, don’t worry about it. Y/N, is it?” He smiled warmly at you, “Uh, yeah, that’s me.”

“We have English together, right?” He asked, trying to making eye contact as you looked everywhere but his into his eyes.

“That we do,” you laughed nervously, “See you Monday, I guess.”

“See you Monday, Y/N.” He smiled, brushing past you as you walked back home, texting Steve about your ‘incident’.

Soon enough, Monday rolled around.

School always dragged along on a Monday. Whether it be the non existent enthusiasm from the students, or the bore of lessons from teachers paid less than they’re owed.

Grabbing your bag and heading out of the classroom, you avoided the glare of the same boys from the coffee shop stood outside your classroom.

You felt their eyes leave as you trailed outside to try and find your friends, Steve and Peggy.

Walking past the bleachers, you felt all eyes on you as hands gripped your shoulders.

“If it isn’t Little Miss Y/N.” You span around to be met with the eyes of one of Bucky’s gang, another member of the Greasers.

“H-hi?” You questioned, looking away from where he stared deeply at you, backed by two more Greasers; the rest sat on the bleachers.

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N. May I ask why this pretty little mouth of yours was talking to Barnes outside the coffee shop last night?” You looked up, horrified that anyone had seen yours and Bucky’s conversation.

“I-I didn’t mean anything by it! I bumped into hi-” He pressed a finger over your lips, his minions trailing behind you, as he whistled for more of them to come over.

You were surrounded. You’d seen this happen before, and you prayed every night that they would never do it to you.

Grabbing your bag roughly off your shoulders, you gasped as they pulled your books out one by one, until they reached your sketchbook.

“Well what do we have here? A sketchbook! Let’s have a looky here shall we?” He smirked, picking up the black book from your feet.

Flipping through your doodles and practices, you prayed they wouldn’t find your illustration of the picture Bucky had posted recently.

But they did. Just your luck.

“And it gets better! How 'bout we show this to Buck when he gets here, hey? Is that what you want, Y/N? Attention? Well, sweetheart, that’s what you’re gonna get.”

Tears began to spill down your cheeks as he cascaded the sketchbook to the ground once again, the pencil drawing looking like a watercolour.

“Now, Y/N. How 'bouts we deal with you.” He spat, getting closer to your face. Grinning, he grabbed your hair and pulled your face up to meet his eyes.

Taking a harsh slap to the face, you looked into his eyes as he laughed, “Fuck. You.” you spat.

“What was that, Y/N? Say that again.” He looked shocked, but hid it. “I said fuck you.” He looked at you again, “You’re gonna regret that Y/N.”

Taking another hit, you saw the blood hit the concrete on the other side of the book.

“Hey!” A loud voice echoed from outside their circle, as the rest of the group scattered, you sank to the floor.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doin’?” Bucky asked the boy stood opposite you, as you let more tears flow. “You know what, I don’t wanna hear it. Back off.”

Bucky kneeled in front of you, smiling softly. “Y/N?”

“Y-yeah?” You held your nose in fear of it bleeding further.

“I’m so sorry the did that to you, I promise I would never have let them if I would’ve known. Are you alright?”

“Apart from nursing a headache and this nose bleed, I’ll be okay.” You smiled back up at him, his eyes glistening as he looked at you. “Shit, you need to get to the nurse.” He looked around you at the destruction of your bag, trying to pick up your scattered books.

“Did you draw this?” He asked, awe taking over his features. “Um, yes, I did. I’m sorry, it’s lame. I just saw the picture on my feed and I needed prac-”

“Y/N, babe, this is incredible.” He grinned from ear to ear, holding the book so delicately. “T-thank you, Bucky. It means a lot.” He slung your bag over his shoulder, offering you a hand as he led you to the nurses office.

“I’m still so sorry, Y/N. Can I please take you for coffee or something to make up for it?” He asked, brushing your hair behind your ear as you held tissue to your nose.

“I don’t drink coffee, but I’m definitely always down for pizza.” You laughed, Bucky joining you. “Well, pizza it is. Are you free tonight?”

- 6 months later -

Finishing the final sentence of your last-minute homework, you shoved the books into your bag as a knock at the door snapped you out of the world of your science work.

Opening the door with a smile, you saw Bucky, donned in his leather jacket and all black outfit.

“Mornin’ baby.” He smiled, pressing a kiss to your lips as you grinned into it. “Good morning, Bucky.”

“Did you sleep okay?” He asked, interlocking his fingers with yours. “I’d sleep better if my boyfriend wouldn’t keep messaging me every five minutes!”

“Well forgive me for caring about you!” He laughed, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“You know I love you really.” You nudged him slightly as he grinned. “I love you too, doll.”

anonymous asked:

boyfriend jungkook??? i hope i'm not rude :)

oh good lord he’s too cute 

Originally posted by apgujeon

  • the boy isn’t super experienced so he probably asks you a lot about how relationships work 
  • he really likes you and doesn’t wanna mess up over something stupid so he’ll be like “do couples do this? what about this?”
  • gah so cute.
  • “i’m the golden maknae and you’re my golden gf/bf” 
  • looks up lame pick-up lines and memorizes a bunch so he can tell them to you randomly 
  • like one day y’all are on the couch making out and he suddenly pulls away and is like “if you were a vegetable you’d be a cute-cumber” 
  • is smiling super big and you’re just like :| boy if you don’t 
  • imAGINE HUGG IN G THISL IL DUDE
  • he would give the bestest cuddliest warm hugs 
  • him constantly singing songs whether it be bts songs or just ones stuck in his head the boy is always singing 
  • never sounds bad of course 
  • his voice might break but he just keeps goin 
  • he likes going on adventures with you because he started training at such a young age and then debuted as well 
  • so if hes got free time yall are exploring something
  • wearing matching masks when you two go out so fans don’t recognize you 
  • not supe r clingy but loves attention 
  • taking couple selfies with semi-matching outfits
  • taking dumb pictures of him to post on twitter 
  • going to anime shops 
  • just to malls in general because he likes shopping with you 
  • the type to be like “i’m the golden maknae i can do anything” to “am i really good enough” in half a second :-(
  • but you reassure him that he’s amazing and that so many people across the world love him, including you 
  • and he’s good to go 
  • will always worry because bts are popular and he doesn’t always have time for you 
  • like what if you arent feeling well or get upset while he’s gone 
  • “can you rub my back pretty please~~~~~~~~~”
  • takes u to the studio and teaches you couple dances omg imagine dancing to now with him 
  • is super ridiculous but y’all still learn the dance somehow 
  • youd be the one cooking all the time and jungkook would LOVE it 
  • would tease you like “are u sure u can get that???” 
  • grabs what you need but still holds it out of your reach 
  • can’t cook on his own but he likes helping you do smaller things
  • probably tries to fuck you in the kitchen but youre like “boy im trying to cook us FOOD go use ur hand” 
  • “but my hand isn’t you” 
  • LOL BYE 
  • sharing memes with other while hes on tour 
  • if u send him an old meme he won’t let u forget 
  • shows the boys “LOOK LOL (y/n) sent me a dead meme”
  • likes taking videos of y’all (sexual or not idrk) 
  • watches them on tour when he misses you
  • which results in pouty kook cuz “they’re so faaaaaar” 
  • “so faaaaaar away” 
  • “yoongi stfu” 
  • you wear his pikachu onsie while he’s gone and take a selfie to send him
  • boy literally dies. responds with; headlines: bts’ very own golden maknae passes away due to cuteness 
  • wearing whatever clothing of his at your place while he’s on tour becomes tradition and he’s always like “baaaaaaabe where’s my selfie” 
  • jk the type to freak the fuck out when you post a selfie
  • spams you oh lord 
  • you’ve probably blocked him a couple times or 20
  • ur #1 fan in whatever you do 
Writing is Hard, pt 9: Sexting

Summary: You send Dean some dirty pictures.

Read Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Warning: Smut, taking pictures during sex

Word Count: 2600ish

A/N: This is all written with love for fan fic. I’m teasing, not putting it down in any way. Hope you enjoy! (Sorry, tag list is closed!) XOXO


You hold up the phone, then almost instantly put it down.

This is stupid.

No. This isn’t stupid. This will be hot. Just do it.

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Me and Chez, our relationship is amazing and I put that down to her support more than anything, she’s just so great. Obviously, I’ve just started being a dad and I’m all tired promoting my single and she gives me no bother about it. She’s like, ‘You’ve gotta go and do your job, do your job,’ - that’s how she is with it. And Bear, Bear’s beautiful. I love him and miss him terribly. I can’t talk about him too much as it makes me sad because I do miss him a lot. You know when people go, 'Oh, show us a picture-’, and I show them a picture and think, 'Oh, I don’t really want to’, because I get really sad about it because I miss him. It is hard being away from your newborn son, but I understand this is something that I have to do, and I want to do, and it’s an experience that most people would die for.
—  liam talking about cheryl & bear recently! (via cheriam news on twitter)
They made him kill his horse.

(long story. TL;DR at the end)

This is a story that my grandfather liked to tell. It’s kind of long, and I can’t say if it’s true, but it seems to fit the very old and cantankerous guy I knew, who never, ever let a grudge go. I mean, in the 1980s and 90s, he would sometimes go and yell at Democratic candidates for office, because Woodrow Wilson had made him fight in WW1.

The story actually starts with that, kind of. You see, Grampa immigrated to the US early enough that the first election he could vote in, he voted for Teddy Roosevelt. Wilson won, though, and then he ran for reelection under the slogan “He Kept Us Out of the War.” Which seemed like a good platform, so my grandfather voted for Wilson. Few months after that, he got us into the war, and a few months after that, my grandfather was in the trenches somewhere in France.

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The Things We Give Welsh Learners: y Babi Sinsir

So I was going through our bookshelf yesterday, because we’re fast approaching the point where we need a clear-out, and I came across one of my all-time favourite creations ever, probably even beating shit like the wheel and penicillin. Years back, before leaving The Man to pursue his dreams of being a sort of professional clown-thing, my husband used to be a translator for Neath Port Talbot Council; as is often the way with Welsh councils, though, owing to a lack of money and also everywhere is really close to each other (this country is 150 miles wide at its widest point, and about 47 miles at the thin bit. Ver ver small), NPT Council’s translating department was shared by Swansea Council. Thus it was that, in the halcyon days of circa 2009, the two decided to team up and produce a new Welsh language book for learners between them, and thus it got sent through to Steffan to proof read it.

A Thing You May Not Know: Welsh is one of ten indigenous languages to Britain, arguably the oldest, and has been viciously oppressed over the last millennium and a half as part of England’s big If You Destroy Their Culture They’ll Be Glad To Be Ruled By You policy. These days, it’s nonetheless still spoken by approximately a fifth of the Welsh population; a hell of a feat, considering, but the suppression of it continues to this day (just in cleverer, sneakier ways now than whipping people’s children if they’re heard.) But it is classified as Endangered. Thanks to Welsh-language schools now being a thing (though supply is much lower than demand), transmission rates to the younger generation are pretty good; but, Welsh is peculiarly dependent on adult learners.

This means that learner books might have to appeal to both children and adults while using very simple language, which I explain in case it in some way justifies the bewildering weirdness of what I’m about to show you; because at first glance, this book is simply for children. But it’s… Well. 

Well.

I present to you, with translations in bold and commentary by me, Y Babi Sinsir.

Literally, “the Ginger Baby”, but they mean ‘ginger’ as in ‘gingerbread’. Literal ginger. Not the colour.

This is Mr Jones. This is Mrs Jones.

What’s wrong, Mrs Jones? I want a baby.

Note: there will be some confusion in this book about whether the narrator is speaking, or anyone else. It might seem cut and dried here, but there are no speech marks around “Dw i eisiau babi”, whereas later speech marks are used, and also in two pages’ time the narrator will actively pass a value judgement using first person, so… Well.

But, so far so good.

Mrs Jones is making a Babi Sinsir.

… okay, so I like this page because of the capitalisation of Babi Sinsir and the lack of definite article. She’s just making a Babi Sinsir. You know, a Babi Sinsir? Magical baby made of gingerbread that you make if you can’t conceive but can’t afford IVF? Yeah. A Babi Sinsir. That’s right.

Let it be known that this is Not A Thing in Welsh folklore or mythology. What the fuck. How does this work. Where does the magic come from? Do you need a faerie ingredient? Will the next page tell us?

This is the Babi Sinsir. I like the Babi Sinsir.

Nope.

But it is apparently shit-capable and needs a nappy. It’s good that the narrator likes it anyway.

The Babi Sinsir is bad. He’s running.

Uh oh.

“Come back, Babi Sinsir.”

Look how Worried the Joneses are. Funny how they don’t seem to be calling that enthusiastically, though. I’d have expected an exclamation mark at least. Did Mrs Jones always have a massive left arm? I can’t remember.

“Run, run, catch me. I’m the Babi Sinsir.”

Yeah, okay, so that’s the Welsh for “Run! Run! As fast as you can! You can’t catch me, I’m the gingerbread man!”, but once again, I’m going to have to draw attention to the lack of expressive punctuation here. It really feels like this naughty Babi Sinsir’s heart is just not in this.

“Come and help, Mr Horse.” “Run, run, catch me. I’m the Babi Sinsir.”

Cool, look, a floating horse has come to help.

The pen there, incidentally, was an attempt by the translators to work out who was talking. I can’t imagine why. This dialogue is on fire, everyone can tell.

“Come and help, Mrs Cow.” “Run, run, catch me. I’m the Babi Sinsir.”

Now they have been joined in their high-speed zombie shuffle by a married floating cow who is, if I’m not much mistaken, high as shit.

“Come and help, Mr Goat.”  “Run, run, catch me. I’m the Babi Sinsir.”

I’m starting to suspect the artist only knew how to draw the legs on animals in one way.

“Come and help, Mr Dog.”  “Run, run, Catch me. I’m the Babi Sinsir.”

Yes, that dog is definitely here to ‘help’. Also… the Babi Sinsir is literally within reach of Mrs Jones’ massive left arm now. Why is she not just picking him up?

“Come and help, Miss Cat.” “Run, run, Catch me. I’m the Babi Sinsir.”

You may be wondering at this point if this is just… the whole book. An ever-increasing flock of floating zombie creatures shuffling after a naughty gingerbread baby in a nappy who is committing the cardinal sin of running. I mean… where can they go from here, amirite? A sheep? A squirrel? A chicken? We can hit a hundred pages this way, easy. The concern is the artist, whom I think was stretched a bit beyond their means on this project anyway.

BUT WORRY NOT! Shit’s about to go down, guys.

Oh no! Here comes Mr Wolf. Mr Wolf runs and catches the Babi Sinsir.

THAT IS A FOX

THAT IS A GODDAMN FOX YOU HEATHEN FUCK

WHAT THE FUCK

AND WHY THE FUCK IS IT WEARING CLOTHES WHEN NONE OF THE OTHER ANIMALS WERE

WHY IS IT DRESSED IN DUNGAREES LIKE A LAZY FARMHAND ON AN AMERICAN RANCH IN THE 1800S

This doesn’t bode well for the -

Half of the Babi Sinsir is left.

WHAT THE

Quarter of the Babi Sinsir is left.

WHY DOES IT STILL LOOK SAD AND HORRIFIED WHY IS IT STILL ALIVE OH MY GOD

The Babi Sinsir has gone! There’s tasty.

What the

Wha

It

I realise this is not the main point to make here, but two pages ago it had eaten half of that nappy, and now it’s whole again and delicately discarded to one side, I just want

I mean

It’s okay, right? This happens in fairytales? Little Red Riding Hood? Someone will eviscerate the fox and out will come the Babi Sinsir…’s pieces, and they can be baked back together…?

No one cares!

Mrs Jones is making another Babi Sinsir.

The new Babi Sinsir loves Mrs Jones.

… 

…okay, so there’s a lot for us all to take in right now, and we’re all going to get through it at different speeds. But I’m just going to draw attention to the fact that Mr Jones is now merely depicted as a picture on the wall, and the new Babi Sinsir apparently only loves Mrs Jones, and…

Okay so they just lost their beloved baby gingerbread son because he got eaten alive by a fox in dungarees calling itself a wolf, right? Mrs Jones apparently couldn’t give less of a fuck if she tried, as long as she has some flour and ginger left over to make another. This one she made to love her.

Mr Jones, I presume, had a total mental breakdown and drank himself to death. At the very least, he’s left her, look. All she has left is the photo.

But does dim ots! Mae’r Babi Sinsir newydd yn caru Mrs Jones.

And that is the story of Y Babi Sinsir, aka the greatest work of literature ever written.

Get Into My Car

Title: Get Into My Car

Summary:  Dean and the reader are enjoying a night out, until someone ruins the evening

Author:  Dean’s Dirty Little Secret

Characters:  Dean Winchester x Plus-sized Reader

Word Count: 1889

Warnings:  Body shaming, derogatory terms directed toward a plus-sized reader, drinking, explicit language, explicit sexual content, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, smut, nsfw

Author’s Notes:  Written for two challenges: @winchester-writes Drinking Writing Challenge. My drink was Glenfiddich Scotch and my prompt was “What is everyone staring at?!” and @butiaintgonnaloveem Baby’s Big 50 Writing Challenge. My song was Get Out of My Dreams, Get Into My Car by Billy Ocean. Thank you to @feelmyroarrrr for the amazing idea. This wouldn’t have been possible without my bestie, @mamapeterson and her support, encouragement and words. Love you, T.

Originally posted by spn-spam

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What’s up, it’s Alexei!

When Ngozi posted this picture yesterday of young post-draft Tater “trying his darnedest to answer press questions in English,” I thought, “You know, I could make a play fic out of that.” Which is what led to the following 2700+ words about Tater and his ESL tutor.

Many, many thanks to @ktheunready for being my Russian authenticity consultant and beta!


Georgia Martin stood at the back of the media scrum and watched Alexei Mashkov stumble his way through his post-draft interview, saw the way his fingers kneaded the brim of the brand-new Falconers’ cap he’d been handed for the initial official photos, saw the way his eyes widened and stayed intently glued to whoever was asking him a question, like he was afraid he’d miss some key bit of meaning if he blinked.

She pulled out her phone and made a call.

***

«No, Mama, I promise, my room is very nice. The family is very nice. Everything is very…»

«Let me guess, nice? »

Alexei sighed. «Yes.»

«You know I don’t doubt you, right, Alyosha? I’m not worried you can’t do this. You will be fine. But I know this is your first time to live in another country, with none of the boys from your teams here. It can be… hard, sometimes. I know.»

«Yeah, Mama, I know. You told me.»

«Are you telling me you’ve heard the stories of my youth too many times?» she asked in mock outrage.

«No, no!» he laughed. «Of course not.»

«Good. I should think not.» He could picture her face exactly, and it made him smile. «I’m glad your host family seems nice, Alyosha. I’m sure you will have many friends in no time.»

He flopped back on the bed again and stared at the ceiling. «I hope so.»

«We’ll talk again soon. Love you, son.»

«Love you, too.»

He hung up and let his phone rest on his chest. He’d been to America before. He’d thought he’d known what it would be like, that it wouldn’t be so bad. Different, yes, but there would be so many interesting new things to see, and new teammates, and he certainly knew how to play hockey. What he had failed to take into account, apparently, was how exhausting it was to try to function in English all day. For a US hockey team, the Falconers’ roster was shockingly low on Russian players, so his host family was one of the French Canadian ones. To their credit, they did speak some Russian, but it was hardly enough to have a real conversation. Alexei felt like he’d been practically mute all day.

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anonymous asked:

"You dont want me" ladynoir

Ladybug sat at the top of the Eiffel Tower, her head in her hands, wondering how she could have possibly screwed things up SO badly. 

She heard the light footfall of her partner landing behind her. She couldn’t say she was surprised, he had never been one to leave her to stew in her own misery. 

“So…” he drawled, coming and sitting beside her, “that was an interesting broadcast today.” 

“It was a disaster,” she moaned, still not looking up at him, “I should just throw myself off this tower and put myself out of my misery.” 

“Oh come on, it’s not as bad as all that,” Chat said, patting her awkwardly on the back. 

She turned and glared at him. “It was a live stream, Chat! LIVE! It’s out there. Right now!” 

“True,” he conceded, nodding his head, “but it’s not like you said anything horrible. It was kinda cute actually.” 

“You don’t understand,” she moaned, slumping over so until she was curled up in his lap, “I’ve ruined everything! What sort of an idiot starts babbling about their crush on a live broadcast.” 

“Well, apparently you,” Chat said with a light laugh, cautiously reaching forward to play with the ends of her hair, “and about half of the rest of the known world. It could be a lot worse buginette.” 

“Do you think there is a chance he didn’t see it?” she asked hopefully, looking up at her partner’s thoughtful expression. 

He gave her a pitying smile. “I think you’re pretty much out of luck their bugaboo. You already have a ship name and everything. It’s trending on twitter.” 

“Ugh, that’s terrible,” she groaned, curling up tighter and burying her face against his leg. 

“I don’t know,” Chat teased, “I thought Ladrien had kind of a nice ring to it.” 

“This can’t be happening,” she moaned. 

“Hey, come on. What’s this really about? Is it really going to be so awful for the guy to know you like him? He might be flattered.” 

“It’s not that,” Ladybug said softly, “I mean, it’s MORE than that. I haven’t even told him I liked him- as myself, my not Ladybug self I mean. And now… let’s say he does feel flattered? That just means I have made myself my own competition! And it’s not like I can just go up to him and be like: Hey, by the way I’m Ladybug and, as you already know, I’m totally in love with you! Want to date me now?” 

“Oh god,” Chat said with a sudden sense of horror, “there are going to be so many desperate fangirls trying to do that.” 

“I didn’t even think about that! If he didn’t before he’s definitely going to hate me now. I might be the only person in the world who can simultaneously confess to her crush and make it harder for him to notice me!”  

“You really are one of a kind there bugaboo,” Chat said giving her another reassuring pat on the shoulder. 

“And what if this puts him in danger? I mean I might as well have stamped a butterfly tattoo across his back saying property of Ladybug, please exchange for one miraculous!” 

“Please don’t do that. I am told that models need to be very particular about what they put on their skin.” 

“It’s not funny. What if I honestly made him a target?”

“Hey,” Chat said “I promise you, if anything happens I will be the first person on the scene.” 

“Thanks,” she said gratefully, reaching up and catching his hand in her own.

“So, you’re in love with the model boy,” Chat said softly, rubbing his thumb absently against the back of her hand, “gotta say I didn’t see that one coming.” 
“Yeah well, it’s not like it really matters anymore,” she sighed, “it’s not like it would ever happen.” 

He scoffed at her, rolling his eyes theatrically to show his clear contempt for her pessimism. “So tell me My Lady,” he asked shifting slightly so that he could look down at her with a playful smile, “what is it that you see in this guy anyways?” 

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” 

“You don’t want me, so clearly you aren’t after the guy for his looks,” Chat said wiggling his eyebrows flirtatiously. 

“No,” Ladybug laughed, “although they don’t hurt.” 

“Why My Lady, was that you finally admitting that you find me attractive?” 

“You’ve always been attractive and you know it,” she said reaching up and flicking his bell. “As you can see I’ve just had my attentions elsewhere.” 

“Oh so this is a long standing attachment then? How long have you been dreaming of being M’Lady Agreste?” he teased poking her lightly on the nose. 

“Almost from the first day I met him. It will be two years next week,” she said softly. 

“The start of school,” Chat murmured, “you know him then?” 

“yeah,” she admitted reaching blindly around to catch his other hand and pull him to her like a security blanket. “We were in the same class in college and we still have a few classes together now. Plus our friends are dating so we hang out a lot.” 

“You two are close then,” Chat said a little breathlessly, “that… well that certainly clears things up.” 
“Yeah,” Ladybug said, “it’s not just some creepy celebrity crush. I mean, it kind of was that too. I have like 2 dozen photos of him plastered on my wall that I used to practice talking to because for the longest time I could barely string a sentence together around him, it was kind of embarrassing. I got over it eventually, but by that point I didn’t really have the heart to take the pictures down.” 

Chat gave her a warm smile. “I can see it now, you stuttering and tripping and shooting the poor confused boy adorable awkward smiles before running off in the opposite direction.” 

“Shut up,” Ladybug said but she couldn’t help grinning at her partners soft tone and fond smile. “I got better.” 

“I know.” He raised one of her hands to his lips and gave her a delicate kiss. “So you still haven’t told me what you see in this guy,” he challenged, “If I am getting demoted to your rebound choice I deserve to know what I am up against,” he said slyly. 

“He’s kind,” Ladybug smiled, filling with warmth as she thought about her love. “He always wants to see the best in people,and he… he is just good, you know? The kind of goodness that doesn’t come from ignorance or being sheltered, but that has seen pain and and heartache and loss and yet still chooses to be good. 

“That is high praise indeed My Lady.” 

“You aren’t going to make fun of me for this?” 

“No My Lady. If anything I am going to love you more for it.” 

She gave him another grateful smile before sitting up. The sun had begun to set and she knew she should be getting home. She probably had a dozen of so missed calls from Alya waiting for her. 

“Well who knows,” she said attempting to be flippant. “Maybe he’ll finally just reject me and I will change my mind about you Kitty.” 

“Wouldn’t that be a twist,” Chat laughed climbing to his feet and offering her his hand to help her up as well. 

“It would probably be for the best,” she sighed. “It’s not like we can be together. Not with Hawkmoth still on the loose. There is too much at stake. And I don’t know if I could bear having to hide my identity in a relationship.” 

Chat grinned again. “You are very wise My Lady.” 

“Mostly I am just telling myself that so I can feel better,” she admitted and was rewarded with a loud melodious laugh. 

“You know,” he said, eyes twinkling “you are probably right. Clandestine meetings, midnight makeout sessions, it’s probably better to hold out for the real thing.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Besides, I hate to break it to you My Lady but I have a sinking feeling that #Ladrien is not to be.” 

“And why is that Kitty?” 

“Well,” Chat said looking out at the sunset, “not to be the bearer of bad news but I have it on very good authority that your lover is very much spoken for.” 

“oh?” Ladybug said trying not to let her disappointment show. 

“Yes, completely and hopelessly in love. Someone at his school in fact.” 

“And who is this mystery girl?” she asked. 

“It’s right on the tip of my tongue,” Chat said his eyes glittering with something she couldn’t quite name, “it will come to me. I’ll have to tell you next time I see you.” 

“Well thanks for the heads up,” she said leaning over to give him a kiss on the cheek, “and thanks for cheering me up.” 

“Always My Lady. I should probably get heading home myself.” he pulled out his staff and and extended it. 

“Oh,” he said, shooting her a final grin as prepared to depart, “I do remember one thing.”
“And what’s that?” 

“The mystery girl, I knew there was something about her that I found particularly delectable.” 

“And what is that?” 

“Her parent’s own a bakery.”  

@hello-shellhead @saved-by-the-notepad I might’ve written you guys something


“This is not a good idea,” Natasha said immediately, Clint and Steve nodding along with her. “Clint and I are much better trained, and Tony is too recognizable.”

“I understand that,” Fury said with a sigh. “But this mission needs Stark’s expertise. We’re just going to have to hope he can keep his mouth shut for once.” He shot a one-eyed glare in the billionaire’s direction, who in turn shrugged.

“I’m up for it. Don’t worry about it, it’ll be easy.” He shot a smile around at his anxious teammates, which only seemed to worry them more.

The mission itself was easy enough. Infiltrate a party, get some blue prints, erase some data, destroy some technology. Easy, he did that after Obie often enough, although to be fair he was doing it to his own company, so it didn’t have to go quite so unnoticed.

The others didn’t seem to have much faith in him, but that was fine. People underestimating him was just the way he liked the world. Fury dismissed them and Tony went back to the tower to prepare. Nice suit, but cheap by his standards. Slicked back hair in contrast to his usual unruly curls. Repulsor watch – no way he was going in unarmed, he wasn’t stupid. He stared at himself in the mirror. Still too recognizable. Sighing, he resigned himself to the fact that he would have to do it: he was going to have to shave his glorious goatee.

The mission went smoothly, despite many people who had personally met Tony Stark being in attendance at the party. No one gave him a second glance; some people thought he was a waiter, and Tony cursed himself for wearing a suit that was too cheap. He was in and out in two hours, everything completely under control. He was just strolling out of the building when he heard someone shouting about destroyed prototypes and smiled to himself, whistling.

Apparently his ‘disguise’ worked too well, because when he got back to SHIELD headquarters he had about four guns pointed at his head and several very angry agents glaring at him and asking just who the fuck he was and what he thought he was doing.

“Uh, Tony here guys. Finished the mission, saved the day?” he answered as he held his hands up in surrender, trying to placate them. They didn’t believe him.

He was unceremoniously (“HEY, genius over here, check your strength!”) thrown into an interrogation room, where he sighed and pulled the drive he had obtained for Fury out of his pocket, setting it on the table. Hill entered about fifteen minutes later, which was good because he was getting bored and contemplating messing with the monitoring system in the room, and he shot her a big smile.

“Agent Hill! So good to see you. You proud of me yet? I know you didn’t believe I could pull it off.” He smirked, but his face fell at her cold and blank stare.

“I don’t know you,” she responded in monotone. “I don’t know what you’re pulling, pretending to be Stark-”

“I’m not pulling anything!” he protested quickly, holding his hands up again and standing, like he was waiting to be attacked. “I am Stark! Listen, call Pepper, show her a picture, she’ll tell you. Jesus, all I did was shave!” Hill glared at him and he fell silent again, anxiously reminding himself that if he stepped back it would be a sign of weakness and women loved signs of weakness. She turned on her heel and walked out without another word, and he fell back into his seat. He felt exhausted. The mission hadn’t been hard, but had taken longer than he thought it would, and he wanted to go home and work.

It took another hour before someone entered the room again, and by that point he was standing on the chair in the corner of the room, dissecting the camera that was watching him with the small screwdriver he had in his pocket and ingenuity. He glanced over his shoulder as Pepper strode in, lighting up and jumping down from the chair quickly, noting Hill and Fury standing behind her.

“Pep, my love, the spice of my life!” he said dramatically, throwing his arms wide. “Tell the Pirate that he should be able to recognize his agents better.”

“That’s Tony,” Pepper said with a long-suffering sigh, ignoring him. “He looks like a child without his facial hair, but it’s him. I didn’t believe it either the first time I saw him, until Obie-” She cut herself off quickly and shot him an apologetic look, but he just shrugged, clapping a hand on Fury and Hill’s shoulders.

“Now that that’s sorted, can we debrief and go home?”

Apologies were made, but Tony waved them away. It wasn’t the first time this had happened, and probably wouldn’t be the last. Even the paparazzi didn’t recognize him without his distinctive and awesome goatee getup, which was nice sometimes.

It was a couple months and a few missions later when it happened again. Fury and Hill were out on their own recon mission, Pepper was in Tokyo and couldn’t be reached, and Rhodey was out on deployment for the next few weeks and no help anyway (he would probably just find it hilarious and leave Tony in the lurch). It didn’t matter how many times Tony showed up from completed missions missing his glorious goatee, the agents of SHIELD apparently had terrible facial recognition because he was always detained and interrogated.

It had been hours and lots of yelling before Tony finally got fed up. “You people are insufferable!” he shouted, grabbing a Sharpie from the agent’s pocket and turning to the one-way mirror on the wall, scribbling on his face in a rough approximation of something that looked like his normal goatee. “There! Recognize me now?”

Clint found it absolutely hilarious. There were photos.

Somehow a picture of Tony with Sharpie stains and a wide grin got leaked to the media, and the rage was now “Tony Stark look-alike?!” which Tony found absolutely hysterical.

He managed to convince half of SHIELD that it really was just a look-alike, while the other half remained sceptical. Suddenly, whenever he stepped into headquarters he had ghosts trailing him with razors (and not very good ghosts, either, Fury should get Natasha and Clint up here for some lessons). Bruce found it very amusing to help him prank said ghost, which one time included locking them in the bathroom and filling said bathroom with bubbles. And whenever Tony did show up from a mission where he’d shaved, he was met with a multitude of stares. Fury even got in on the action and started calling him ‘Agent Carbonell,’ which was funny in its own way.

And if he managed to trick Steve as well a couple times, well, that was a whole different story.  

part 2 of 3rd grade teacher nursey?? yes?? ok

(part one)

  • calls all of his kiddos “little bro” regardless of gender. the occasional “little dude” or “little man”
  • the first time he wears a short sleeve dress shirt to school all the kids are obsessed with his tattoo
    • “mr n has a forever drawing on his arm :000″
  • hes the ultimate kid whisperer. anything these kids throw at him? hes got it covered
    • kids are fighting about who gets the 64 pack of crayons. jeremy got them yesterday and now he wants them again?? theres like 4 other kids who want to use them jeremy dont be a dick
    • nursey’s like “can i give you guys a special project? i need a big drawing to put up on the wall. but you all have to help and you all need to use the crayons”
    • jeremy, immediately distributing the crayons and getting a big ass piece of paper: ok mr n!!!!!!

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Cat Got Your Tongue Pt. 1 (M)

Word Count: 5,463

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Genre: catboy!tae, comedy, fluff, eventual smut

Summary: When your boyfriend cheats on you you’re left heartbroken and lost all hope in relationships. Santa says you’ll find love soon, but what do you do when you’re beloved cat turns into a beautiful grown man?

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