i would never attempt to make one myself

In the last 2 weeks, I’ve paid for a ko-fi commission I never got (they posted that they finished them up so it’s not like “it’s coming” )and I emailed someone for a commission who never answered. If I didn’t do commissions myself I would totally never attempt to commission another artist. :/ 

I realize this isn’t the norm but it sure enough makes one feel like total crap tbh

Originally posted by carelessliver

Forgive Me

Pairing: MOC!Dean x Reader

Summary: Dean goes to the Reader and begs for her forgiveness.

Warnings: Angst, Smut, unprotective sex (wrap it up kiddos)

Author’s Note: This is for my beautiful Arie @bringmesomepie56 who had submitted these a long while ago when I asked for a few sexy gifs plus a supernatural character. She and I have a weakness for MOC!Dean and I just couldn’t help myself *choked sob* I hope you guys like this!!


MOC Dean begging for forgiveness… if that doesn’t inspires something hell if I know what will. ;)

- Submitted by Arie!


Forgive Me

The knocking on the door stopped me in mid-cry. With a quick look at the alarm clock next to the motel bed, I saw that it was extremely late.

2:45am.

Keep reading

The Worst Kind of Crush - Dally Winston Imagine

A/N: Enjoy! I have two more writing posts to do this week and I’m pretty excited about both of them :) Anyone can always feel free to send in an imagine, preference or headcanon request! I don’t do smut or Character x Character writing for anyone wondering

Word Count: 658

Warnings: None

Pairing: Dally Winston x Reader

Since befriending Steve Randle last year, I’ve adored Dally Winston. His blond hair, cold blue eyes and tough personality for some reason drew me in almost immediately. I’ve been warned about him, but I just can’t help that I’m into him. Just being around him makes me blush and freeze up.

Today is no exception. We’re all at the Curtis house and I’m reading while the boys throw around a football. It’s not that I can’t play or that I don’t like it, but when I play at the same time as Dally, I tend to make a fool out of myself. So, I sit and watch the boys run around with their shirts hanging out of their jeans pockets. It’s killing me to watch Dallas; for someone who smokes and drinks almost religiously, he’s in good shape. I wonder for a moment if he works out when he’s in jail.

“Y/N! Doll? Pass us back the ball?” I blink and snap out of my thoughts the moment I realize that Dally is saying my name.

“What?” My cheeks flush and I curse myself silently for not paying attention.  

“You were staring. Are you okay?”

Steve takes a moment to stop flexing for a girl who was passing by to holler, “She was checking you out!”

“I’m fine,” I answer Dal, shooting a nasty glare in Steve’s direction.

Dally smirks a little and sits down beside me. “Is Stevie-Boy right?”

“Well… I mean…” In an attempt to find the right ting to say, the word “yes” somehow makes its way out of my stupid mouth.

“You’re into me, huh?”

I swear to God, I’ve never wanted to crawl into a hole so badly. “Just because I looked doesn’t mean I’m into ya.” I’m desperately trying to explain myself and that stupid blonde’s smirk just keeps growing.

“You’re blushing an awful lot, doll.”

I could slap him. Or kiss him. Or both. “I hate you,” I sigh.

“Nah. I think you want me, or at least like me.”

“Give me one good reason that would make you think that. Me blushing doesn’t count.”

Dally licks his lips, which are chapped from sun exposure, and scoots closer to me. “Your pupils are dilated even though we’re in the sun, and I think that’s a sign of attraction.” He grabs my wrist and finds my pulse quickly. “Quick heart rate and I know you said not to mention it, you’re blushing. Also, your excuses are really dumb. I know girls, doll. Pretty well.”

Pulling my wrist away from his warm hand, I sigh. “Fine, okay. I like you.”

“Why do you sound so upset about liking me?”

“You’re kidding me, right?” I squint at him. He has to know.

“Please, enlighten me.”

“You’re the worst person for me to like! You don’t like me back, and even if you did, you’d only want me for one night.” Looking down at the concrete sidewalk, I grow more and more frustrated with myself for even looking his way.

“Y/N, what makes you think I don’t like ya?”

“I don’t know. I’m just not like the girls you usually go out with.”

“That ain’t a bad thing. I mean, I’m not really itchin’ to date another Sylvia, and let’s face it, she’s the only kinda girl I’ve ever really dated. Maybe I want something new.” Sighing, he puts his hand on my knee. “How about you give me a chance. I’ll take ya out to a movie or somethin’.”

I nod and lift my eyes to meet his. “I’d like that.”

“I hope it goes well.” Dally smiles a small, but real, smile. “I’d like for you to be my girl.”

Do you remember “The Hourglass Game“? 🐙🌷❤ She’s from my Spilled Milk exhibition back in 2013! 😄 I wanted to share her for this weeks #throwbackthursday! 😊 I wanted to try something different than my usual color palettes and compositions, so I went outside the box with this one! 🎨🖌 The outcome was my first attempt and breaking down the girl’s figure. I wanted to portray a certain mood so I used deeper colors in the background and tried some slash-like dripping effects! 🖤❤️ It was really fun to try something opposite of what I would normally make! 😆 She serves as a reminder to push myself to try new things while painting because you never know what the outcome may be! 😉💖 I even made her one of the images you can choose in my new Custom Print Shop on store.camilladerro.com! 😁 I have over 50 images you can choose as well as what paper type and size! 😀Whatever choices you want, I’ll make it and send it to you! 💌💕 Please check it out ☺ and make sure have a great morning cuties!

Drabble #3

I needed affection. I craved it constantly. Whether it was just my hand on Y/N’s knee or my head in her lap. The feeling of having someone touch me without the intent to cause pain was addicting.

Before I met Y/N, I would follow Steve everywhere… poor bastard didn’t know what to do with me. I could tell he was relieved when I found someone else to cling to. It was unhealthy to only socialize with one person.

It took awhile for me to start nodding at Bruce in the hall or to say ‘good morning’ to Nat while she was perched on the counter drinking coffee. It took even longer to gather up the courage to say hello to Y/N. Once I did, however, it was like I couldn’t leave her alone. I trailed after her as she brought paperwork down to Tony. I shadowed her as she made herself lunch.

When I look back on it now, it came off as a little creepy. I’m surprised she never came up and slapped a restraining order to my chest. She understood I just wanted the company. So she talked to me even though I wouldn’t respond. She rambled about her day or the odd dream she had. It was refreshing. She would even narrate what she was doing when she cooked, like she was on a cooking show. I was the only viewer.

I don’t mean to make it seem like I never even uttered a word to her, I did.. just not often. I would hum in response or mumble a soft ‘yes’ or ‘I agree’. And she was content with it.

She first noticed my touch deprivation when she accidently grazed my cheek with her hand, causing me to lean into her touch like a cat. She had froze, I also froze, and we stared at each other for a moment. Her lips had twitched into the little half smile I loved, and she pressed her palm to my cheek. Her finger traced the rough scruff on my cheeks and I swore I would never let her go in that moment.

After that, she would hold my hand as we walked to drop off Tony’s papers or sit so her leg was pressed to mine while we watched shitty reality TV. I even let her trim my hair, something Steve had attempted many times and failed. We became inseparable, I loved it. I couldn’t get enough of her. She broke me out of my shell and I still thank her for it.

She was the one to ask me out on a date. For coffee. I remember feeling proud of myself for making her giggle so hard her drink came out of her nose. She was embarrassed, I thought it was funny.

That’s what all led up to this moment: my hand tangled in her hair as she slept with her face pressed to my neck. I still wasn’t very skilled at verbalizing my thoughts, I was also insanely nervous, so instead of asking, I slipped the ring onto her left finger. She didn’t notice until she went to the bathroom.

I was startled awake from her squeal, running to the bathroom with my pistol I kept in the bedside table. She was still sitting on the toilet, gawking at the glimmering band on her finger. She whipped her head to meet my eyes, I slowly lowered the gun.

“Yes.” She whispered.

The Night Ahead (Part 5)

summary: bucky came out of cryostasis after just a few months. with the help of steve, he’s trying to piece the fractions of his mind back together. while flipping through old HYDRA files, he remembers something from his days as the winter soldier: you.

pairing: bucky x reader (sort of?? it’s complicated)

series contains: angsty angst, sadness, bucky reliving memories as the Winter Soldier, violence, people die a lot, bucky trying to cope, really awful translations of German, Russian, and Romanian (thanks to google translate i apologize in advance)

a/n: sorry this came out a day late, doves. MASTER LIST | PART FOUR

Originally posted by xmidnight-moonlightx

I promised to see him tomorrow, but I never said what time. Despite my attempts to catch at least eight hours of sleep, true rest evaded me the night before. I thought about leaving. I could. If I really wanted, I could make sure that James could never find me. No one would. Yet I couldn’t make myself do it. I was stuck in debate with myself for most of the night, until dawn’s light started peeking through the window in my room.

At some point I did actually get up, but I didn’t leave my room. I busied myself with simple things; tidying up my room, trying on different clothes, adding a little makeup. After looking around a little bit, I managed to find a book stuffed in the nightstand next to the bed. I flipped through the pages, my eyes shifting to the door to my room every time I heard a creak of floorboards in the hallway. A shuffle of feet. Sometimes I thought they stopped in front of my door, and I waited, but a knock never came.

Keep reading

Still Here (Reid x Reader)

Title: Still Here

Rating: T

Word Count: 1202

Summary: An unsub pushes on your buttons during an interrogation, but Spencer seems to be taking it harder than you.

Warnings: mentions of abuse, self harm, suicidal actions- no graphic descriptions though

A/N: if you or someone you know is dealing with abuse please call the police x stay safe everyone, im here if you need to chat xo

•••


“Tell me where she is.”

Your voice was low as you leaned across the interrogation table, getting closer to your suspect. Byron Stevenson was obviously guilty for murdering and kidnapping four men. While the other members of the BAU investigated his home and other properties, you, Rossi, and Spencer stayed to interrogate him. You had volunteered to take charge of the interrogation.

However, as he smirked devilishly at you, you felt regret from the decision. “Where’s my deal?” You forced an airy laugh, crossing your arms over your chest before leaning back. “Deal? You must of misheard me. You tell me where she is, or I throw your ass in prison right now for the other two charges. You give me the information I need, and I’ll see what I can do about a ‘deal’.”

He laughed and copied your position, tilting his chair back slightly. “Ok, agent. But first, let me ask you something.” Your brows quirked up in response. You had wasted too much breath on the scumbag.

“How did it feel when your daddy hit you?”

Spencer scowled as he watched the exchange behind glass, glancing at Rossi whose brow was furrowed in confusion. He made a move to get to the door, ready to intervene, when Rossi put his hand up. “She’ll be okay,” he assured, stopped fm saying more by the unsub’s voice. “When he pulled your hair, slapped your cheeks, either ones, if you know what I mean,” Byron said with a tight lipped smirk.

“Is that why you wear those long sleeves, even though it’s 90 degrees outside? Because little fifteen year-old Y/N went on a spree with a blade? Or maybe because she still does.” Your straight face never faltered even though your chest burned with anger.

“All because daddy hurt you?” “Did your father hurt you?” you retorted. “Is that why you killed him first?” His face went flush as his denied your accusations. “Mr. Stevenson was an alcoholic, and since you know so much about abuse, what am I supposed to think?”

“Shut up,” he murmured. “Isn’t that what he told you, so you’d keep quiet? Is that why you shot him? I sure as hell hated my father after that!” you raised your voice, hoping to get a rise out of him. “He deserved what he got, right?” you yelled, causing Byron to stand up. His palms landed against the against the steel table top with a loud “bam!”. “Damn right he deserved it!” he screamed back at you.

“Woo!” you clapped sarcastically, standing up and circling the table. “We’re really talking now,” you whispered into his ear, patting his back with force. “So what did you do to make him pay? Because I would’ve been pissed at him!” you continued. “I killed him! I killed him,” he whimpered the last part, sinking to his knees. Sobs wracked his body as you joined him on his level.

“Do you regret it? All those other people?” He nodded. “You can still save one if you tell me where she is,” you whispered. “No I can’t.” His voice was hoarse. “What do you mean..?” “She’s nailed to one of the trunks in the forest,” he confessed, crying even harder than before. You wasted no time standing up and storming out the room. “Call Hotch, the body’s nailed to a tree in the forest,” you sighed to Rossi, who nodded before leaving the area.

It was silent as you sat down on a nearby bench, burying your face in your hands. “You did well,” Spencer spoke up, sitting down beside you. “Made a fool of myself trying to get that confession,” you laughed while rubbing your temples. “I didn’t think so,” he hummed. “So, um, your father…” he trailed off, avoiding your eyes.

“Yeah, it’s all in the past,” you dismissed, self consciously pulling your sleeves over your hands. “That’s why you always wear long sleeves?” You nodded, looking away from his now direct gaze. “Can you please talk to me? I want to understand.” Your breath hitched as he laid his hand atop of yours.

“When I was a kid, my mom left me and my dad. She got tired of being abused I guess. But for some reason I’ve never understood, she left me there. Me, a nine year old girl, alone with this abusive grown man. No one ever found out and I never told. When I was about fifteen, ironically enough, I self harmed. Hell, I tried to kill myself twice. It never worked.” You glanced up to gauge his reaction, frowning at his glossy eyes.

“It lasted for years. I went to college as far from there as I could get, after making one more attempt, that is. I was so scared for so long that he would come get me. I stayed with friends for a long time, too afraid to be on my own.” Spencer looked more hurt then you felt. His lip pouted slightly and a few stray tears slipped down his cheeks.

“But hey, it’s all better now, right?” you said quickly, smiling at him. “I found you guys, I found a family of my own,” you kept your voice quiet, afraid it would break if it got any louder. “Y/N? Do you still… hurt yourself?” he asked. “No, I don’t see any reason to,” you answered honestly, pulling up your sleeves to reveal a few pale, raised lines. “See? Only scars,” you reassured.

Spencer stared at you for a while, leaning in to embrace you. His arms held you tightly as he buried his face in your shoulder. You hugged him back, whispering soothing phrases into his ear. “It’s ok, Spence, it’s ok.” “Don’t ever leave me,"he pleaded. He felt absolutely pathetic as you comforted him. He wasn’t the one who had been abused, or tried to kill himself on multiple occasions, and yet here he was, shedding tears.

"Spence, I need you to look at me,” you said finally, pulling away just enough to face him. His eyes met yours as he complied. “I’m ok now. I’m not going anywhere, don’t worry. I love you, ok? You know that, don’t you, genius?” you teased, wiping under his eyes with your thumb. He cracked a smile, raising a hand to secure yours on his cheek.

“I love you,” he whispered hoarsely. “I’m glad,” you half-joked, glancing between his eyes and the way his hand pressed yours to his cheek. “When we get home, do you think you could maybe come over? I just-” “You don’t owe me an explanation,” you smiled. “I’ll be there, Spence. I’ll always be there.” He smiled widely at your response, leaning forward to kiss your cheek hastily. “O-oh my- I’m so sorry, that was really unprofessional I’m-” you cut him off by pressing your lips to his softly.

Your only intention was to help him calm down, but as his lips moved in sync with yours, you couldn’t help but smile. His face was flushed as you pulled away. “That, was unprofessional,” you joked, taking his hand in yours. “C'mon, we’ll finish this later. Now we have a murder investigation to wrap up.”

DAY 3417

Jalsa, Mumbai                  Aug 5/6,  2017               Sat/Sun 1:32 AM - 3:45 AM




Birthday - EF - Pawan Pipalwa    Sun, August 6 .. wishing you the very best for the year and the years to come .. all love from the Ef ..


Birthday - Ef - Vineet Chaudhary  for the 5th of August .. we missed out on that .. but we did not have it on record and now that we do we are sending you slightly belated greetings but greetings all the same .. all love 




The power of the human mind is as astonishing as its making .. in the course of the number of hours that it gets to awaken set and reset several times, it is remarkable how brilliantly it adjusts to different circumstances and environs with ideas and thoughts, planets apart from all else   ..

Creative meetings for projects, important domestic decisions that involve long term planning and execution, prep for KBC, and then to Boxing and cheering for India  !! And subjects complied with, all decisions taken approved and still .. some more ..

Bravo ..


that familiar room so known and filled with Ef meetings and memories .. those expressions of learning the new KBC and then the …

A well fought encounter .. strong and close .. both men at their best and Vijendra wins .. so exciting to be at the venue and just be taken back to days in Boys’ High School, Allahabad and Sherwood College, Nainital and the boxing rings where I boxed with, at times, opponents bigger and better than me .. but putting up a fight .. and winning, NO .. not the fight but almost winning the fight .. a plucky loser they told me and awarded me with the Cup for the pluckiest loser !! That is like I almost won ! And pluck shall be the temperament in all that one attempts .. we may never win, but when it comes to almost won, it brings glory all the same .. a glory of admiration effort and dignity ..

You almost feel like getting into the ring and .. well .. never mind ..

…. yaaaa … so what if I am the only one on his feet !! thats the emotion that it generates when you fight for your country !!

and it is that extra special when Father and Son have the same admiration and pulp ..

and the frenzy as you walk in .. its like the time of walking into the ring in school with all the House guys cheering .. but the cheering stopped once the bout began .. the only sound one heard was the punch of the glove on the face !! Not so here at the Stadium .. here its war !!


and remember always no matter how many times and years one may have put at a routine, it is never perfected .. there is always the need to rehearse and keep rehearsing even though it may sound routine and mundane .. and so .. KBC -

.. and as night begins to grin .. the lights on street appearing grim .. there comes the moment for retrospect .. to lean across and touch respect ..

the Father’s ‘Rachnavali’ opens its page and the stare of what is seen lies before you .. a small extract of a letter he wrote to one of his contemporaries soon after the friend had been through a personal trauma ..


“in this world every human is a loner .. to receive the love of someone is to be considered as most fortunate .. to achieve such, one must ever be in trying .. I would actually prefer that the Almighty be disappointed with me , but never be my lover .. those that give and have given me sympathy, just to comply with their expectations, has driven me to half my size .. I have always attempted that those that need me, I should be available to them in as easy a manner as possible .. but to make myself available to all, I should continue to strive and commit penance and dedicated learning ever, for it .. it requires a great amount of dedicated learning and penance to get to acquire, possess,  the Almighty .. but to get and acquire a friend is no less a penance .. those that have become mine, I still feel them to be not mine, and continue in my efforts to get them to know them to feel they are mine .. the effort of ‘getting’ what you have already ‘got’, is what love is all about  … this is love  …”



Its come on to 4 am .. it is time to find out in the solitude of slumber, what more should and can be done to find, not the Almighty, but that friend, that love, which completes the penance .. 



Amitabh Bachchan

There Is No Escape - Part 11

Note: The plan is in motion but how much of yourself will you lose to make sure that it works out….that Killian gains back his heart? Having such power over the pirate isn’t something Pan is going to give up easily.

Killian Jones x Peter Pan x Reader

Words: 1584

Warnings: Violence and death.

Disclaimers: None of the GIFs are mine. All credit goes to the creators <3

This is it. The plan has been set into motion. Back near the healing waters you had made it look genuine, that you really were heartbroken over Killian, because with his heart in his hand there was no way Pan was back in the camp with the boys…..he would have been watching from somewhere. You had raised your hand up and slammed it hard against his cheek, acting as any scorned female would, and then ran off into the dense jungle of Neverland with feigned tears rolling down your cheeks.

If Pan wants you to be by his side then that is what you are going to do, for now, to gain his trust and to take the heart right from underneath his nose. Killian wouldn’t be happy with the route you are taking but he had no choice, it wasn’t like he could stop you. He can scold you when all of this is over. Pan may have given you your youth back when he had kept you here but he had also robbed you of your memories during that time and precious time that could have been spent with the man you love.

He is going to wish he had never messed with you.

Pulling the blankets that you are cocooned inside around your body a little tighter your tear-filled eyes glance over at the figure that is laying next to you. Pan. He brought you here, back to his treehouse, after conveniently knowing exactly where you were with Killian and instantly wanting to be the one that would comfort you. Had he not planned this whole thing in that sick and twisted mind of his you might have even thought, even if only for the briefest of moments, that he actually had a softer side to him.

Keep reading

N.M | Off Limits

Originally posted by pleasingpics

Part 2 (x) Masterlist (x) 

 I woke up entangled in white bed sheets. Over to my left laid Nate. He was still sound asleep. A chill was sent down my spine, perhaps it was due to my lack of clothing. Quietly, in an attempt not to wake Nate, I searched the room for last night’s clothes. I heard the bed slightly creek and Nate was stirring to awake from his slumber. “Good morning,” he mumbled. 

“Morning,” I said in hopes of the conversation not going much further. I was well aware of the fact that I had slept with Nate the night before. Guilt began to creep up, and I preferred to not drag the mistake out further than necessary. 

“Don’t leave so soon,” he said as he sat straight up, the sheets draped over his lower half. 

“I shouldn’t be here in the first place,” I admitted. 

“Why do you say that? We had such a good time last night,” Nate winked. But it wasn’t a lie, each of us thoroughly enjoyed last night’s events. 

“Perhaps I shouldn’t be here because you have a girlfriend. A girlfriend who happens to be my best friend.” Suddenly I could no longer look at Nate in the eyes. It really was pathetic, I had just spent an entire night with my best friend’s boyfriend. I had no excuses, I wasn’t even drunk. I was simply a shitty friend. 

Keep reading

quick update and preview

i know i’ve been pretty MIA lately. i’m starting the last two weeks of college this week (one week of classes, next week is finals) and now i’m kinda freaking out and worrying that maybe i’m an idiot and didn’t do well enough this semester to pass all my classes and maybe i won’t graduate because wouldn’t that be fucking fun. 


anyway.


i’m still working away at that bucky WIP. it’s currently at 28 pages, and i’m on part six. i honestly don’t know how many parts it will be now. 10? 15? who knows. but realistically i’ll have it finished and edited sometime in may, and i’ll release it then. to make up for my slowness, i’ll give you all a preview (a crappy and unedited one, but oh well) of this unnamed fic: 

I promised to see him tomorrow, but I never said what time. Despite my attempts to catch at least eight hours of sleep, true rest evaded me the night before. I thought about leaving. I could. If I really wanted, I could make sure that James - Bucky - could never find me. No one would. Yet I couldn’t make myself do it. I was stuck in debate with myself for most of the night, until dawn’s light started peeking through the window in my room.

At some point I did actually get up, but I didn’t leave my room. I busied myself with simple things; tidying up my room, trying on different clothes, adding a little makeup. After looking around a little bit, I managed to find a book stuffed in the nightstand next to the bed. I flipped through the pages, my eyes shifting to the door every time I heard the floorboards creak in the hallway. A shuffle of feet. Sometimes I thought they stopped in front of my door, and I waited, but a knock never came.

After a couple of hours, I figured I couldn’t wait any longer. Tossing the book on the bed, I got up and took a quick look in the mirror. I righted myself around a little bit so it wasn’t quite so obvious I rolled out of bed, and then forced myself to walk out the door.

The dining room was decent sized, with a long wooden table and chairs surrounding it. There were three people sitting at one end of the dining table, and they offered friendly smiles as I walked in. I offered a quick one in turn, but was drawn to the other end of the table, where I saw James sitting.

He watched me sit down next to him, then turned his attention to the plate of food sitting in front of him. There were a variety of food on the plate, like he hadn’t been able to decide what he wanted. A blueberry muffin, scrambled eggs, bacon, toast with jelly, sausage. There were little bits missing from most of the food, like he had tried them all.

I raised my eyebrows. “Did you get enough?” I asked him.

He smiled a little and looked down at his plate, pushing at the scrambled eggs with his fork. The smile faded quickly, and I noticed the rosy tinge to his cheeks as he stared at his plate. It was too solemn of a look for anyone staring at a plate of food.

I motioned to the blueberry muffin; it was one of the few things on the plate that was untouched. “You should try this one,” I told him. “You like blueberries. Or, at least, you did.”

He gave me a quizzical look, but did as I suggested. He took a small bite of the muffin, making sure to get a blueberry. He chewed slowly, and his expression was decidedly pleasant as he swallowed. He looked at me as he took another bite, raising his eyebrows in question.

“One time we took cover in a blueberry field, waiting for a convoy that we were to intercept. I practically had to hold you down in order to get you to try them. You acted all pissy about it, but you’d grab a couple more whenever you thought I wasn’t looking.” I reached toward his plate and picked off a piece of bacon. I grinned at his scowl as I took a bite.

“I do like bacon,” he pointed out.

“Me too,” I said, shoving the rest of the piece into my mouth.I chewed happily, watching him take a drink of his glass of orange juice.  

“I don’t remember any of this,” he said after he set his glass down. “Us,” he elaborated. “Other than the day I shot  –“ 

 I held up a hand, not wanting to revisit that particular memory so early in the morning. “Honestly, I’m surprised you remember as much as you do.” I leaned back in my chair, trying to be discreet about eyeballing the couple pieces of bacon sitting unguarded.  “They scrambled your brain so many times, it’s a wonder you can still function.” 

 I could feel the tension return to the room as I spoke. I almost regretted saying it.  

He scraped his scrambled eggs from one side of the plate to another. The eggs caught on the bacon, the toast. Whatever he was trying to achieve, the eggs were now spread haphazardly around his plate. “Why would they do that to me?” he asked, staring at his food like it might hold the answers for him.  

His breakfast just might have more answers than I did. I stared at him, watched the heaviness weigh on his shoulders, watched it tug the corners of his mouth into a deep frown. He still contemplated his breakfast.  

“Because you would remember things,” I told him, though that answer didn’t include even nearly the entire scope of what he was asking me. “You would remember pieces of your old life, who you were. In order for you to be efficient, HYDRA couldn’t have that.”


thanks for being so patient! love you all <3 i’m also tagging my forever tag peeps cause i’m needy when it comes to love and validation. 

Keep reading

Watch Me

Summary: Y/N and Sam have their time alone. Instead of jumping right into having sex though Sam decides he wants to watch Y/N get herself off, before he agrees to touch her.

Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Reader

Pairing: Sam X Reader, Sam X Reader X Dean (Eventually) (No Wincest)

Rated M

Warnings: Sexual Content, dirty talk, masturbation, guided masturbation, protected sex, rough sex. NSFW.

This is part 6 to Shocking Sensations:

Catch up here!

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine Part Ten

A/N: I really was in a Sam!crisis today! Enjoy this smutty chapter y'all!

Originally posted by themegalosaurus

Keep reading

A little bit of honesty...

I reacted to something emotionally last night. And for that I apologize. I did not realize the reaction my bowing out would produce. I did not mean to upset anyone or to manipulate anyone’s feelings.

I was simply trying to get out from under someone’s intentional attempt to bring me down in order to make themselves feel better.

That being said, I would like to thank everyone for some of the kindest most heartfelt statements of love and support. It takes a special person to try to change someone’s mind with love and acceptance when they could have spent their night doing just about anything else.

So, what’s that mean. It means that I’ve reminded myself that it’s just Tumblr and the opinions of those I’ve never met who think they have me pegged based on one social media site is irrelevant. Hate me if you must. I can’t stop you. I respectfully ask, however, that you leave me be. It’s just Tumblr, all of this hate in my inbox every time I open it is unnecessary. I am well aware of my shortcomings, I don’t need anyone to point them out.

I was also lovingly reminded of all those who have come to me for advice who still need me in that capacity. So I will stick around for you as well as the many readers who were very sad to not get to be able to read the rest of First You Fall.

Again, I did not mean to upset anyone or manipulate you into anything. I am grateful to those of you who reached out as well as the friends who dropped their evening to talk me off a ledge.

I appreciate your love. I am grateful for your support. I took my own advice and I checked myself. Have a good night. 😘

One quick face-up and wig attempt later and I’m in love~~

Like, honestly. I always thought Oleander would be near impossible to shell. His features aren’t typical in bjd sculpts, so. I never got my hopes up for him.

But, no!! I accidentally stumbled over an amazing shell for Oleander and I’m so happy! Even the way he poses and moves is just how I’ve always pictured him moving on my mind.

His wig still needs work. I think making it myself will be the best route to take but I’m cool with him having this one for the moment. He just, is Olea! It’s amazing! I can’t get over this!! :D

What to say to a guy who says "you deserve better"

At one point in your life or another, some one will feed you this line. Do not just accept it. Because it’s not okay and you do deserve better than that. Instead, say something along the lines of this, and make him feel stupid for “letting you down easy”.

You think telling me I deserve better makes me feel better about myself but it’s for you, to ease your mind. It doesn’t make you a good guy, it’s the most lamest, laziest, unoriginal excuse. I deserve a real one. You’re being a coward by choosing the easy way out. I’m really disappointed and offended that you didn’t even attempt to try at anything. You don’t know what I deserve. I decide what I deserve and if I didn’t think you were enough for me, I never would’ve taken us this far. I told you I like you, a lot, and I really believed we would work out all the knots. Instead you just want to let everything go, just like that, like it’s nothing. I think I deserve better than what you’re doing right now. A long time ago I told you you needed to build confidence because I was afraid you’d back down and give up every time something happened and you told me you would fight for us. Another instance you told me you’d do anything to make this work. Now all I get is a “you deserve better” and nothing else. That’s bullshit. I wasn’t even asking for much and you know it. You just don’t want to put in any effort and all that tells me is that I’m not worth it. I do deserve better, but telling me you can’t give it to me is just lazy.

When someone tells you you deserve better, please, please, believe them.

I'm Not A Kettle

Fuck you.

You took me at my weakest point- the girl who never cried, the girl who built bridges for everyone else her entire life.

You saw she was weak. You saw she was hurting and you decided to use that to make her use all her energy on you.

Fuck you.

You made me bleed out with everything inside of me in an attempt to make yourself feel full.

You knew that you could slowly make me kill myself to save you because I was the only person that didn’t give up on others. I was the one who did anything to make sure everyone else was okay.

Fuck you.

You created lies and a world that ran me dry in an attempt to hear the words “I feel bad for you”.

You cracked all my walls to put glue in yours that would never hold in the long run.

Fuck you.

I’m done. I’m done putting other people before myself when I’ve got nothing left to give.

So fuck you.

I’m not a kettle and you’re not a cup.
Maybe it’s time you fill your own damn self up.

-WanderingWorlds
2

It’s Really Me 


Everything is a blur, you don’t remember how you got here. Someone took you before you could evacuate the city. You tried to escape all this madness, Bruce practically begged you to leave so that you would be safe. He wants to handle things alone. So you obeyed his orders knowing this is something he must do. He even refused help from Dick and Tim. Instead of being somewhere far away you remain in Gotham, your location unknown. You can’t lie you are afraid. Whoever took you wants you alive and unharmed for whatever reason. 

They didn’t even restrain you, leaving you to pace around the room anxiously. You have been conscious for an hour now and as each second passes you begin to feel more frightened. What if Scarecrow knows your secret identity and ordered his men to find you? There’s just so many things running through your mind all at once and it is overwhelming. Your thoughts are interrupted when the door of the room opens and you are startled by a man wearing a militaristic suit/armour. He bares the symbol for Arkham on his metal chest plate. But most terrifying of all he wears a helmet with a tactical visor that flashes blue. You can’t help but notice the pointed ears on the top of his helmet that resemble Batman. He clearly has some kind of vendetta against him and is starting his revenge by killing you. 

Keep reading

2

Bellamy- I Loved and I Lost You



He and I against the world, that’s what he always told me. He promised we would venture this new world together and make it our own. He promised that no man, woman, or creature would tear us apart. Hand in hand we fought wars, we killed and we rebuilt and we always had each other. Until the night of MountWeather. He went in to do his part and I was set to do mine. The plan went perfectly, all too perfectly. We ended up in the control room together, my hand on the lever. With his hand on mine, we committed genocide. I knew the grief would be difficult, that he made need some time to deal with things. I’d be more worried if killing innocent people didn’t faze him then if he pulled away for a while. I had the whole thing mapped out; he’d express his need for some space, I’d comply, and after a while he would come back. Together forever, that’s what he said. I was wrong.  

I always thought the worst night of my life would be when I killed hundreds of men, women, and children. I soon found that that was a joy ride compared to the night he told me he didn’t love me anymore. Those were his words, “I don’t love you anymore, I can’t. I look at you and all I see are the dead.” Then he left.

I loved him like he was my own. My own lover, my own second half, my own fairytale. I loved him like I would never lose him. But I did, oh how I did. The moment I saw the love fade from his eyes will be forever carved into mine. The warmth fading from those old soul brown eyes, the darkness spreading like a damn disease. His touch retracting from mine like I had burned him, the soft smile housed upon his petal pink lips turning into a cold straight line. I watched his love die right there in front of me. I loved him, and I lost him.

No amount of fire can keep me warm anymore; no amount of fur can replace the weight of him next to me. I never knew how much of me was actually him, until it was gone. My voice never sounded quite right after that, it sounded distant and foreign. Like someone old and broken had taken my place. Maybe someone did. Maybe an old soul took advantage of the body I left behind when I coward into the very darkest corner of my mind. All the romantic movies and sad songs, all the cliché talk of everything reminding them of the past, it was all true. I saw his face in every window, in every mirror, his smell staining every piece of clothing I own, the sound of his voice carved into the bark of every tree. He was everywhere, except the one place I needed him. My body felt too small and the world felt too big, I began to go mad. The days got longer, the air got thicker, and my blood got colder. The walls around me bled, the floors crumbling. I was a mess. I was a pile of discarded ash, a stain waiting to be removed. Who knew I’d ever love that boy so much, but I did. I loved him, and he was never coming back.

That was weeks ago, I think. Time is a feeble thing when you have no one to spend it with. I had attempted to run away from my problems with Clarke, following her to a place she called Polis. She explained all about Lexa and how we’d be safe there but I couldn’t make myself listen, my mind wondered to Bellamy and what I could have done to keep him. I would have followed her anywhere, I just wanted to run. Lexa welcomed me with open arms, she gave me a room and clean clothes, she tried to make a place for me at the dinner table with her and Clarke but quickly became accustom to my desires to be alone. Twice a day someone would knock on my door to bring me food, those were the only two times a day I talked to another person. Even that ceased after a while. I spent my days gazing out of the window, looking down at the city. I spent my nights lying in bed willing to give my soul to have one more night with Bellamy. The pain in my chest became bearable eventually, Id gotten so used to it I didn’t really actively notice it. That was until the day I realized I couldn’t remember the details anymore. It had completely slipped past me, at some point my clothes stopped smelling like him, I stopped seeing him in the windows, I stopped feeling his hands on me. Somewhere along the way, I forgot why I loved him. I was afraid for the first little while, I had attached myself to him so severely it felt as if I forgot him id forgot myself. It didn’t take long for me to realize how silly that was though, and then came the empowerment. I rushed around my room, cleaning and redecorating. It was the first time in weeks that I had the emotional energy to do anything and I wasn’t going to let it go to waste. I grabbed the clothes Lexa had given me and took a knife to them, cutting up the side the down the middle, exposing more leg and a lot more cleavage. I felt alive for the very first time in a very long while. I felt beautiful.

This feeling lasted for days, I ran out of my room with such energy I startled even myself. I walked with such confidence, you’d I think I was the heart breaker and not the broken. I swayed my hips just right, dominating every inch of stone I walked on. I made my way to the only place I knew, the commander’s quarters. I bound up the steps and flung open the door, Lexa and Clarke both jumping. When Clarke saw me, her eyes widened. A grin spread across her face as she dropped the things in her hands and ran up to me. She flung her arms around me and drew me into a deep hug.

“You’re back” She whispered into my hair and I pulled away to look at her.

“You’re god damn right.”

That was the day I got my life back.

It wasn’t long after that day that I met Roan. He was so tall and handsome; the fact that he was prince didn’t slip my mind either. The way his eyes pierced whatever he was looking at, the confidence in his voice, I couldn’t help but watch him closer than the others. The same day I met him, he became a King. I was terrified during the battle, I knew Lexa would kill him but she surprised everyone when she embedded her spear into the Ice Queens chest. I see why Clarke likes her. That night I had gone up to his room, carrying a bottle of wine I had secretly borrowed from Lexa, and asked if I may celebrate his survival with him. He nodded and invited me in, where we sat, talked, and drank. The boy could hold his liquor I’ll give him that, he found my low tolerance for it amusing. When the bottle ran low and moon was still high, he asked me to dance. His hands on me felt so right, I became addicted to the rise and fall of his chest on mine. Time seemed forgotten in his presence, a luxury I had long since abandoned. My skin was warmed by his gaze, those arctic eyes a mystery no man could solve. That night I fell for the Ice King.

Our flame burned long after the alcohol left our system. We had such a fire together, something no one thought possible of him. He touched me with such ferocity, yet such respect, I was bound to him in no time. I quickly became accustom to standing by his side, representing The Ice Nation with him, rather than Skikrew with my long lost lover. I saw no end to us, and prayed it to be true. He swore he’d never leave. When the time came, I left with him. Riding on horseback into the mountains where I could soon claim home. He promised to give me everything, a promise he did keep.

“Together forever.” I said softly, lying in bed with him at last.

“Till the last of the ice melts.” He whispered back.

Bellamy had a knack for hiding his emotions, hence why no body noticed how badly he missed her. She was his everything, his rock, his dream, the love of his life. No body saw the pain that grew inside him like a cancer, no body knew why he packed up in the middle of the night and left. He and only he knew where he was going. With a lack of horses to ride, the journey to Polis was cruel to say the least. It wasn’t anything he didn’t deserve though, and he knew that. He punished himself in every way possible for pushing her away, for hurting her so badly. Every time the sun rose he begged that she’d forgive him and every time the moon rose high he begged that she were okay. Alas his journey ended as he crawled up the steps on Polis, screaming for the guards to let him though. His shouts didn’t go unheard, Clarke came running down to him. She motioned for the guards to let him in, the second he got passage he ran to her grabbing her shoulders franticly.

“Where is she? I need to speak with her, I messed up. Please Clarke bring her to me!” He panted from pain and exestuation.

“Bellamy…” Her words soft with regret.

“She’s gone, she left with another man, she’s gone Bellamy.”

Her words knock the wind from his broken body, eroding him from the inside. His mind felt nothing, after all this he felt nothing and couldn’t speak a word. His heart could only muster up enough life for one emotion. Hopelessness.