ignore that excuse for a background

2

muhhahah ya I know I’m evil. I wanted to draw something angsty and I found this poem thingy on my computer and I thought PeRfEcT. Please don’t judge me. If you don’t understand this, their lions broke, as did keiths helmet and lance is sacrificing himself to save keith not even knowing if he’s gonna live bc he’s wounded and uncontios and stuff. I know this has a lot of flaws pls ignore them.

what is not racist: shipping a white man and a white woman together.

what is racist: shipping a white man and a white woman together and refusing admit that the ship blatantly sidelined a black male lead and his well-developed interracial relationship with the female lead.

what is racist: shipping a white man and a white woman together and claiming that their blossoming relationship is not at all related to the writers’ decision to end the interracial relationship and denying that the ship was ended solely to allow the white man/white woman ship to begin. brownie point for backing the bullshit excuse that “"chemistry”“ is the driving factor behind that choice.

what is racist: shipping a white man and a white woman together and ignoring the alarming red flags in the relationship and bashing the interracial relationship that you claim was boring and lacked chemistry; meanwhile it was actually a good example of a balanced and healthy dynamic between two people in a relationship that also offered representation for interracial couples.

no one is calling you racist for “simply shipping two straight white people together”. people are calling you racist because you continually refuse to acknowledge the racism behind the creation of the relationship. because you choose to be dismissive and make excuses for the racist decisions made by the show’s writing staff. because you support and praise the writers’ choices for the relationship that has pushed minority representation and unique, interesting characters to the background in favor of a conventionally attractive white guy whose character traits are quite frankly boring, overused and one-dimensional. and because you ignore and deny the fact that a straight white man has taken precedence over every minority character on a show that, might I add, preaches how “diverse” and “progressive” they are.

just some food for thought since so many of you don’t seem to grasp why others are telling you you’re being racist.

Happier With You (Part Three)

Summary: Steve has had many regrets in his life, but his biggest regret was when he let you go all those years ago. Now, you’re with someone else, and you’re happy. And that’s all that Steve wants for you. But he knows that he was happier with you by his side. And deep down, you know it too.

Inspired by: Ed Sheeran’s entire Divide album.
Also, inspired by my friend, Tator Tot. Nothing spicer than Sriracha Steve.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Words: 1063

Previous Part: Part Two

Originally posted by imagine-that-marvel

Keep reading

Excuse the shitty background. I drew it before i realized i couldn’t draw bleachers.

Here is part two of my Long Exposure fan art. I just wanna say, Jonas is super fun to draw and color. I just can’t get enough of these two. Here’s one of them being gross. @smokeplanet

This is pretty much a duplicate post because I’m a dumbshit and keep forgetting to post my art on my freaking art blog. sooo… yeah. Oh, and ignore the shitty shading. I got suupper lazy near the end of this. o_o

The short moment before the sun fully rose over the horizon… it was the moment of silent contemplation that was his alone. In the short moment before duty would call him back he allowed himself to let his guard down… to wonder… to daydream…

A random and quick coloring of yesterday’s sketch of Scott … some personal art in between commissions. Please ignore the crappy “background”… 

I decided this is more sunrise than sunset (also an excuse for “wrong” hair… he just got out of bed… who has decent hair after getting up?)

And I have to admit that my crush on Scott Tracy is starting to be problematic XD

An Ocean Away - Part Six

Lin x Reader

Word Count- 2,021

Warnings- Angst. So much angst.

A/N- Here it is, the next part of my first fanfic. It wasn’t meant to be this long, but I got carried away with myself! I’m tagging @iputmyselfintothenarrative because she’s my peach. @hamiltonmirandaimagines said some amazingly sweet things recently! @daniela-fromthesalon fills my life with photos of Lin which help with inspiration. @always-blame-jefferson wasn’t ready for the intensity in the last chapter, so here’s some more for you! And last but by no means least @mon-cher-angelique, you bloody ray of sunshine!

Part One/Part Two/Part Three/Part Four/Part Five/Part Six/Part Seven

Keep reading

The One Next Door: Part 6

A/N: I FINALLY UPDATED THIS ONE!!! I can’t believe it tbh but it was really fun! Yeah this one shall continue!!! :D Hope you guys like it!

Originally posted by younas

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5

As you stared at her, she marched over to you, having to pull her purse back onto her shoulder as she walked. Stepping back a bit, you grew worried being alone outside with her. There were still people walking by but no one was going to notice anything.

“You!” she exclaimed, obviously angry with you. “I need you to tell me the truth here,” she sniffled. Her eyes were red and puffy and you already knew why.

“What? I barely know you,” you mumbled, feeling intimidated by her.

“Just let me talk,” she sighed. “I’ve seen you around the apartment. Have you been sleeping around with Yoongi?” she asked you as if she wanted you to say yes and admit things that weren’t true.

“No! I’m your neighbor,” you scoffed, taken aback by her question.

“Don’t lie! There’s no way I’m the guilty one here,” she let out a sob as her eyes welled up with tears.

“What? What happened to you two?” you asked with actual concern behind your voice.

“Like you don’t know,” she rolled her eyes. “He speaks to you more than he ever spoke to me,” she sniffled.

“We spoke but we aren’t that close,” you tried to explain yourself. “I promise you that nothing happened. There shouldn’t be a problem,” you insisted.

“Well, there is. The fact that he seems so innocent is the problem,” she spoke more to herself then to you. Letting a frustrated groan out, she ran her fingers through her hair. Grabbing at her left hand, she snatched your wrist, putting something small in your hand. “Give this to him. I’m not giving up on him but he wanted it.”

Keep reading

as there seems to be some confusion about this question:

sirius telling snape to go follow remus if he wanted to find out his secret so bad was not part of the marauder pranks.

it was exclusively sirius’ idea and when james found out he ran to bodily drag snape back.

it was obviously an awful idea on sirius’ behalf.

it was sirius finally snapping, then go follow him if you’re so eager to know, after snape’s continuous attempts of uncovering remus’ secret.

it comes across as an impulsive decision to me as obviously sirius didn’t take into account how it would make his friend remus feel if he ended up injuring or killing a human being while in werewolf form, or into how much trouble either of them would get.

it was a fucked up thing to do and you won’t see me defending or excusing it, but i will put it in perspective.

snape was a teenage death eater and sirius had just managed to escape a family of pureblood supremacists, and to claim that he sent snape into a deadly trap simply because he was a bully or a psychopath means to ignore this background.

Model - Nathan Prescott x Reader

{Credit to gif creator} 

Fandom- Life is Strange 

Character- Nathan Prescott {Includes Max Caulfield, Victoria Chase, Kate Marsh, Warren Graham & Mark Jefferson (also mentions other characters)} 

Word Counter- 1199 Words 

Persona- Female 

Warnings- Language. Mentions of depression and self-harm.  

Request- aaa i loved your nathan fics could I request another nathan prescott reader insert where the reader is an artist and asked him to be her model for a painting but he’s kind of annoying about it and changes his facial expressions a lot to mess with her while she paints but its also rlly cute and fluffy or something like that?

It was monday morning, you were tired from staying up late with Victoria and Nathan in Victoria’s dorm, drinking wine and chatting shit to each other. But you loved them both and you loved spending time with them. 

“Headache?” Mr Jefferson’s voice makes your ears ring. You looked up from your notepad and nodded. 

“Do you have some tablets for it?” He asks and you nod, taking them out of your bag. 

You swallowed them with some water and they slowly began to kick in. You loved photography, but drawing and painting was your thing, much like Daniel.

Keep reading

BokuAka Week 4 - Day 4

Author/Authors: @thewiselearnfromhistory
Day/Prompt: 4/Firsts
Rating: General
Warnings: None
Side Pairings: None
Summary: Akaashi’s first time trying to comfort Bokuto doesn’t go too well. He’s gotta work on his improvising.

Akaashi Keiji has always known that it’s impolite to stare. His mother taught him basic manners, and he’s gotten by so far in life by being almost overly polite. It’s why he’s the only first year on the volleyball team this year (even if he isn’t a starter) and it’s why the second years accepted him so readily.

Still, all manners aside, he can’t help but stare today. It’s been a month since he joined the team, and he knew from the beginning that Bokuto Koutarou was… Eccentric. The boy alternates between bouncing off the walls (his default state) and sulking quietly in the background. It’s usually something minor that sends him spiraling, but he always rebounds quickly.

Except today, he’s been sitting in the corner for more than an hour. No one has acknowledged it. He was there when Akaashi arrived to practice, and it seems no one is willing to even look his way.

And naturally, Akaashi’s insatiable curiosity won’t let him ignore it.

“Excuse me,” he says to no one in particular.

Konoha is closest, as they’ve been working in pairs on spiking. “What’s up?” he asks.

“What’s wrong with Bokuto-san?”

It’s as though Akaashi has asked about a ghost—at least judging by the way Konoha’s spine seems to straighten like a whip. His eyes dart toward the corner, but he doesn’t actually look. “Yeah, that’s… A long story.”

“We have a long practice,” Akaashi deadpans.

Konoha is still sometimes taken aback by Akaashi’s abruptness, but he’s learning to recover a little faster, so he only gawks for a second. “I guess it’s not long, it’s just… Well, he asked the captain if he could play in the practice match next week, and of course he said no because he’s a dick, and—“

“I thought you called him a bag of dicks earlier,” Komi says suddenly, appearing at Konoha’s elbow.

“Bag of dicks, yeah, an enormous paper bag of them,” Konoha waves him off like swatting a fly. “So he said no, and then Bokuto started, well, being Bokuto. He was trying to get the captain to let him play and said he would do a three on three against him and everything. And Captain Dick Bag said no, obviously. And then Bokuto said—“

“’But shouldn’t the people who have the better stats get to play?’” Komi cuts Konoha off, doing his best to imitate Bokuto’s gravelly voice.

“Anyway,” Konoha says, shooting Komi a dirty look. “Captain Dick Bag looked like he was gonna blow a gasket, and he put Bokuto on ball boy duty for the next week. And he said—“

“’You’re lucky I even let you on the team with your shitty attitude, so you better watch your back. One wrong move and you’re gone,’” Komi imitates their captain’s low baritone, completing the look with a glare and holding out his arms like a gorilla.

Konoha looks like he’s been mortally offended. “Dude, can I not just tell a story?”

“You’re too slow!” Komi counters.

Akaashi lets them bicker, opting instead to make his way over to Bokuto. No one really pays him any mind—part of their plan to avoid the captain’s wrath, probably. Bokuto doesn’t even glance up as Akaashi approaches. He pulls his knees to his chest like they’re a shield.

“May I sit down?” Akaashi asks.

Bokuto’s shoulders lift a fraction of an inch. As Akaashi takes a seat, he appraises Bokuto briefly. This is a bit different from the typical pouting. Usually, his cheeks puff up and there are theatrics—“Don’t ever toss to me again! I don’t deserve it if I can’t avoid the block!” He’s always still involved in the action, eager to be touching the ball again. It just takes him some time to get back in the game.

But today, his head is tucked behind his knees. He’s staring at the floor listlessly, and the puffy-cheeked pout is replaced with an actual pout, his bottom lip jutting out. There’s no sign of the usual theatrics.

Now, Akaashi has slowly been learning how to deal with Bokuto’s moods. He’s developed a method that involves ignoring Bokuto until he looks restless and only then inviting him back into the foray. Bokuto requires a set amount of time to wallow. But this isn’t normal. It doesn’t fit the standard protocol. So, Akaashi is forced to improvise.

“It’s raining.”

Akaashi really hates improvising.

Bokuto murmurs something that’s probably “yeah,” but he barely parts his lips, so it’s more like “meah.” Apparently small talk is out. Maybe it’d be better to just get to the root of the problem.

“Konoha-san and Komi-san told me what happened with the captain.”

This time Bokuto doesn’t say anything, though he seems to curl in on himself even more. Now all Akaashi can see are his eyes peeking out from behind his knees.

Akaashi is getting irritated at the lack of response, but he pushes it down. “Well he can’t kick you off the team for a small mistake. And ultimately, the decision is not his, but rather Yamiji-san’s. You have nothing to worry about.”

Bokuto’s voice is muffled, and Akaashi has to strain to hear him. “He’s never gonna let me play.”

“Well, he’ll graduate next year, so at the very least you’ll be able to play then,” Akaashi reasons.

“If I’m not off the team by then,” Bokuto murmurs.

Akaashi feels the frustration climbing. “Were you listening to me?”

“I’m gonna get kicked off the team, and I’m too stupid to do anything in school. I’m not gonna do anything with my life…”

Akaashi’s teeth grind together with the effort of keeping calm. “You’re not getting kicked off the team, and you’re not stupid. They just—“

“I’m never gonna be anything,” Bokuto continues.

“Well, if you sit here wallowing in the corner, that very well may be the case. You’re not proving anything to anyone by—“

The words stick in Akaashi’s throat, because when he looks over at Bokuto again, Bokuto is crying. It’s not for attention, and it’s not because he’s being too sensitive. It’s that kind of quiet, broken crying that hurts to watch. Bokuto is trembling, trying to hold himself together. But a whimper breaks through, and he tucks his head completely to hide his sudden sob.

Akaashi is frozen to his spot. He’s sure the third years closest to them can hear Bokuto crying, but they’re very pointedly ignoring him. For some reason, that incenses him more. Then again, he’s the one who made Bokuto cry, so that anger is mostly directed at himself. He doesn’t know what to do. The only time he’s made other people cry, it was on purpose, and he’s always been able to leave the damage behind. Now, however, he can’t leave. Well, he can, he’s physically able, of course. But he won’t.

“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi says softly. When Bokuto doesn’t respond, Akaashi’s hand reaches out instinctually to touch his arm. He’s surprised when Bokuto doesn’t jerk away. “Do you want to know what I think?”

Bokuto is still crying, but his head tips to peek out at Akaashi. And, very minutely, he nods.

“I think you were right,” Akaashi continues. “I think the captain has assembled our starting team without considering the statistics. For example, you may be a slightly more reckless player than the others, but no one can rival your spikes. And Washio-san has a higher blocking average than the other middle blockers. The captain has placed his friendship with the third years over the strength of our team.”

Bokuto’s head turns more, and tear-stained face is completely revealed. “Really?” he asks.

“Really,” Akaashi nods firmly. “I believe he feels threatened by how strong our team can be without him. And because you are the most insistent and, quite frankly, the strongest, he finds it easiest to take out those frustrations on you.”

Bokuto looks more bewildered than sad now, but his eyes are still watery. “I’m… The strongest?” he asks tentatively.

“You nearly broke my fingers last week when I soft blocked a spike, so yes, I’d say you’re the strongest.”

The idea of breaking someone’s fingers would probably make most people feel bad, but it brings a smile to Bokuto’s face. He’s a mess, his face is splotchy, eyes rimmed red, a little snot coming out of his nose. But it’s easy to look past all that when he smiles.

“So then you’re saying I’m the best, right?” Bokuto presses.

“Well, we still need to work on your straights,” Akaashi counters. “And your serve accuracy could be improved.”

Akaashi isn’t worried that his corrections will send Bokuto spiraling again. He’s familiar with this part. As expected, Bokuto leans toward Akaashi in earnest. “But then I’ll be the best?” he asks.

“Perhaps.”

“Will you help me practice? Since I’m not allowed to practice with the team this week? ‘Cause you’re the best setter and I wanna be the best wing spiker, and we’ll be the best team!” Bokuto insists.

Akaashi could say no. He doesn’t owe Bokuto anything. His life is already plenty busy, and he knows Bokuto will want him to practice for as long as they can. Plus, once the captain finds out Akaashi is taking Bokuto’s side, he’ll give Akaashi the same harsh treatment he gives Bokuto. It’ll make almost every part of Akaashi’s life more difficult and complicated.

“Yes. I’ll practice with you.”

He doesn’t even have to think about his answer, and seeing Bokuto’s face light up with that iridescent smile makes everything worth it. And the unexpected hug is a nice bonus.

anonymous asked:

Hi there! I love your blog! Your headcanons are so good! Please let me know if this is too much, but could I ask for headcanons of Shikamaru falling head over heels uh-oh-I've-fallen-in-deep style in love with someone before knowing if they even like him back?

Thank you so much for the kind words anon! x I’m glad that you like them! This is adorable <3 

  • So Shikamaru is a man of thought. Therefore he will eventually come to the conclusion that he is in love by silently assessing his own feelings and reactions towards his crush. Like he might just be lying there thinking about how his heartbeat gets faster whenever he see’s them, or how he blushes whenever they touch him, even in the smallest of gestures. After thinking about this for a while he’ll just sit up straight in shock like “shit I’m in love!’. 
  • He wouldn’t be able to confront his crush directly so he’d quietly watch them in the background, memorising every small detail of their face, the sound of their voice, their mannerisms ect.. If anyone notices him staring and ask him about it, he is always quick to come up with an excuse like “I was just reading that sign over there” or “sorry I was miles away then.”
  • Shikamaru wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about them, particularly at night. He’d get really frustrated with himself for becoming so attached to someone who probably doesn’t even like him back. He’d try his hardest to ignore his feelings but whenever he closes his eyes he see’s their smiling face that he’s fallen so madly in love with.  
  • I imagine the first person to find out about his crush is Ino. For example, it might be the crush’s birthday and Ino is thinking about what to get them and Shikamaru, without thinking, would saying something like “get the red one its their favourite colour” or “no they’ve already read that book”. Ino would get suspicious and start questioning him and Shikamaru’s blushing face would say it all. Ino would then make it her mission to get them together, much to Shikamaru’s protests and embarrassment.


Thank you for the request! x

Originally posted by kaizoku-niiichan

Becoming Real - Part 2

Originally posted by livingstills

PART 1 PART 2   |   PART 3  |  PART 4

Characters: Thorin, Company, Reader.
Setting:
Erebor after BOTFA (Everyone lives, fix-it).
Synopsis: Firmly ensconced in Erebor and fed up with the tedium of their daily duties, Thorin’s company tries to revive old times by going on a camping trip. Meanwhile, Thorin is reconsidering his choice of queen and trying to avoid the company’s well-intentioned meddling into his love life, with mixed success.
Imagine: Imagine getting into a heated argument with Thorin at @imaginexhobbit​.
Warnings:
NSFW eventually. Angsty. Hurt/Comfort with a lot of hurt. 
Notes:
This is the first sequel to THE LONG DARK. It will make a lot more sense if you read that story first. My thanks go out to my darlings @hardlyfatal , @fromthedeskoftheraven​ and @snugsbunnyfluff for listening to my interminable whining about this story, making excellent suggestions and slogging through my first (and n-th) drafts without a single complaint.
Words:
2737


So I wait for you like a lonely house
till you will see me again and live in me.
Till then my windows ache.

— Pablo Neruda

For the next five weeks, you made an effort to be the happiest future queen who’d ever not-quite ruled. You sat through long, boring meetings with a smile on your face, you charmed the miners and the jewelers into a revised agreement that served both sides and toned down their rampant animosity.

At night you cried yourself to sleep hugging Thorin’s pillow as you replayed your last encounter again and again.

You hadn’t changed your opinion. It was rooted in convictions too deep to ever shake, and that was fine. But you realized that you hadn’t afforded Thorin the right to his own convictions, his own truth. You’d tried to blackmail him into the outcome you wanted, with a self-serving, manipulative maneuver that turned your stomach when you thought about it. Your relationship should never have been thrown in the balance just because you wanted to win at any cost — no matter what the stakes.

When the yearned-for outing commenced on a mild day in late spring, just before sunrise, you couldn’t dredge up an ounce of enthusiasm. You had watched for Thorin all previous evening, hoping he would return on schedule, but no such luck. In the small hours of the morning, you’d finally resigned yourself to the fact that he wasn’t coming.

After a short, exhausted sleep that left you with a crick in your neck and a mood to match Dwalin’s worst, you stumbled into the stables at the crack of dawn, blinking blearily into the gloom. Of the others, only Ori seemed chipper, chattering at Dori in a gratingly cheerful tone.

“Shut yer trap!” Dwalin barked, giving voice to your own sentiments.

You shuffled to your pony, a sweet mare you’d named Rosalind, and fed her an apple you’d hoarded for the purpose. She took your offering elegantly. You stroked her velvety snout as she chewed.

The deep tones of a familiar voice startled you. A look over your shoulder revealed only Ori, chattering at Dori in quieter, but no less excited tones. Bofur had joined them, and he winked at you in greeting. Thorin was nowhere to be seen.

You leaned your forehead against Rosalind’s snout.

You missed Thorin so much you were imagining his voice everywhere. Soon you’d start hallucinating him, and then where would you be?

You took your time saddling Rosalind once she was done with her apple. She let you, sweet-tempered as ever, and you gave her a piece of sugar in thanks before you led her out of the stables.

The sun was hard on your tired eyes, and you had to squint for a while until your sight adjusted enough for you to actually see anything.

A newcomer had joined the party, already astride on a huge black pony. You knew that pony. You knew the rider even better.

Thorin.

Keep reading

(Ignore the lousy excuse of a background please lol)

Victor and Yuuri in the ballroom scene!! (or in this case an indoor rink that magically doesn’t melt) for @missmaryclare‘s Beauty and the Beast Au. I took (another) break from the concept arts of the other characters due to an art block but my hands were itching to do this scene, which had always been one of my favorites in the original BatB animated film (haven’t watched the live action yet but people tell me it’s spectacular)

For the concept arts, I’d like for you guys to decide which characters I’d do next, so send in asks :) Thank you :)

Happy birthday Twinyards!

I know they technically don’t celebrate it, but I needed an excuse to ignore my essays for a bit. :D

xxdreamwalker  asked:

"Please stay..." Percy and Annabeth :o

(this is a part of the ongoing highschool reunion verse, in which Percy and Annabeth have been separated for about eight or so years only to meet again at their…well, high school reunion)

———

Percy’s a Fire Captain. Which, yes, Annabeth knew from Facebook, but it’s one thing to read an impersonal line on a profile, and another to watch his face light up when he tells her about it, the way he rubs the back of his neck and ducks his head when he admits that it’s a recent promotion, that it’s only a small station, that he’s kind of nervous about the responsibility anyway.

“You’ll do great,” she reassures him. They’re sitting at his kitchen table, Mrs O'Leary panting at her feet. She’s wearing one of his shirts and a pair of boxers while her dress goes through the wash, and the remnants of blue pancakes linger on the plate in front of her. What happens

“You think?” he asks after a moment, like her opinion matters to him still. And the thing is, she can tell that it does, and it pricks her with guilt. Does she have any right to be important to this man still, after so long apart? It’s not like she knows any more about his life than what social network stalking has been able to tell her over the years.

“I think…” Annabeth looks down at her hands, struggling with a way to continue that reassurance in a meaningful way when nearly an entire decade of his life is a mystery to her now. “I think that you’ve always been the kind of person that people look up to, that people want to follow. And I know it’s been a long time, but I don’t think you’re the kind of person who would have lost that with adulthood. So long as you keep your temper in check, you should be fine.”

He blinks at her. “What temper?”

The frisson of panic lances through her before she sees the lazy way the corner of his mouth is quirking up. She smacks him in the shoulder, smirking back at him as he cries out.

“Hey, ouch! What kind of architect needs to hit that hard, huh?”

“The kind who does kickboxing to stay fit. What kind of firefighter can’t take a punch?”

“Uh, I don’t know what fires are like in your city, but they usually aren’t punching me.”

No, but panicked people did. Whole buildings fell on top of people sometimes. She’d had those vague worries back when they were dating, when Percy was just a kid with a dream who hadn’t quite managed to get his act together to follow it.

What would it be like, dating a firefighter? Hastily, Annabeth shoved the question back into the depths of her mind. They’d had ‘I haven’t seen you in years’ sex. And it had been amazing. Better, honestly, than any of the 'I love you more than anything’ sex they’d had as kids, because while that had had the intimacy, they definitely weren’t kids any more.

And…if Annabeth is going for honest right now, the intimacy hadn’t been missing either. But that thought gets shoved back next to the dating question, because she still lives in a completely different city to Percy Jackson, has a completely different life.

“Annabeth?”

“Hmm? Oh - sorry.” She smiles, sheepishly. “I drifted off for a couple of seconds there.”

“S'ok.” Somewhere in the background, her dress beeps. “I’ll put that in the dryer for you. But, uh, when it’s done - would you wanna go out somewhere? For a walk, or lunch, or something. You don’t have to, obviously, but I’d like to. Keep talking, you know. Catching up.”

Annabeth swallows, glancing down. “Well. It looks like Mrs O'Leary could use a walk.” Mrs O'Leary huffed her agreement at the word 'walk’. “And our flight doesn’t leave till tonight. Just let me call Piper.”

It’s Jason, blessedly, who answers the phone - Piper’s in the shower, which means Annabeth doesn’t have to hear her smugness ooze through the phone. Annabeth wouldn’t have been surprised to learn that this whole situation was somehow one big set up from her friend, but even Piper doesn’t have that kind of power.

At least, she didn’t think so.

It means she gets through the conversation with a quick explanation, hanging up just as she hears Piper’s voice calling in the background. She turns her phone onto silent so she has a feasible excuse to ignore it, and then turns a smile on Percy. “We’re good to go.”

There’s a vague worry in the back of her head that they’re going to run out of things to talk about, that it’ll become awkward, but it never does. She’s bumped into people on the street that were less important to her than Percy Jackson, and not had such easy conversation. Maybe it’s the passage of time helping things along, or maybe…maybe it’s just that when they broke up, they were both heartbroken over it. That it hadn’t been any personal failings that caused it, but things that were totally out of their hands.

There’s no lingering blame, and plenty of lingering feeling. They tell each other about work, family, friends, hobbies. They walk and have lunch, and when they’re done Annabeth cautiously asks Percy if he wouldn’t mind her going back to his apartment instead of dropping her off at the hotel.

His smile is like the sun coming up. She grins back at him, and they hold hands all the way back to the car.

“What time did you say your flight was?” he asks later, peering distractedly into his pantry. He hasn’t brought it up yet, but she knows he’s thinking dinner.

“I didn’t,” she admits, checking her watch. “I’d probably have to go soon, if I wanted to catch it.”

It’s only after the words are out of her mouth that she registers the probably, the if. That she admits to herself that she doesn’t really want to get on that plane just yet.

Percy is still for once, just staring into the cupboard. And then he shuts it, slowly, turning wide, sea-green eyes on her.

“Please stay,” he blurts, and something unlocks in her chest, feels lighter. “One more night. I’ll take the couch or something, if you don’t want - I’d just like it a lot. If you would stay for a bit longer.”

She doesn’t even bother pretending to think about it, thumbing through her contacts to find Piper. She smirks at him as she lifts the phone to her ear.

“Why would you need to take the couch?”

Coffee You Happy (Bucky Barnes x Deaf!Reader)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Deaf!Reader

Word Count: 1, 540

Genre: Fluff!!!!!!/Romance

Request: Hi! I have a request, Bucky X reader where reader is deaf and Clint teaches Buck sign language to talk to the reader better?

A/N: I got so carried away writing this oh my goodness. I’m so sorry for being MIA for over a week but all my exams are coming up and I’ve been studying like crazy so updates will be a little less frequent for a while. This is unedited (oops) so any mistakes I’ll fix up tomorrow. Anyway, italics mean sign language for those wondering. Happy reading!

Your name: submit What is this?


It was a bitter Thursday morning in The Avengers Tower. Members of the team were scattered around the place- some were catching up on sleep, some training, some on missions, and some seated in the living room.

You had your legs draped over Clint’s lap whilst engrossed in your most recent book and Clint was playing some kind of game on his IPad, which whenever anyone said it was stupid they would hear the “it’s a strategic game that tests your reaction times and your stamina” rant. To which they would always reply, “Clint, it’s Candy Crush”. Tony was seated across from you both listening to some appalling music, as usual. It was times like that when you were thankful you couldn’t hear too well.

An unlikely friendship between yourself and Clint sparked up when you joined the team just over 15 months ago. Before you met everyone, Steve had told them in advance about your disability, specifically telling Clint about it.

Since then, you spent most of your time in the company of Clint and/or Nat. You’d go with him to visit his family after missions as you and Laura were extremely close, and you’d communicate with each other through sign language- a perfect excuse to make fun of the other avengers without them understanding.

After Bucky joined the team he noticed the way you’d squint your eyes as someone spoke to you if there was too much background noise, or the way you’d manipulate your hands to communicate with Clint. At first he was completely oblivious to the fact that you were deaf; if it wasn’t for Steve explaining it to him he’d probably spend the rest of his time thinking you deliberately ignored him.

Over the past few weeks, yourself and Bucky had been getting to know each other more. He would come and visit you when you were both free. It started when he began talking to you about your book; a grin was spread hugely across his face as you spoke. As your visits became more regular, your conversations became laced in seriousness instead of the light heartedness of prior conversations.

You didn’t mind at all, but it became apparent that Bucky would get completely lost in what he was saying and his pace would quicken and he’d splutter out his words, meaning it was a struggle for you to understand everything he was saying. Having a hearing impairment meant your ability to fully understand was limited, you’d focus so hard on lip reading that you’d forget to actually take in what he was saying.

Of course, Bucky noticed. He would blush radically, and apologise profusely. Not forgetting to mentally scold himself whilst he was at it. You’d reassure him as soon as the apologies started but it would never work and he’d always leave in a ball of embarrassment.  

Unbeknown to you, Bucky had been doing more than humiliating himself.  He had been scheduling meetings with Clint in order to learn sign language. He had tried attending classes for it but being in a stranger’s company made him feel uncomfortable. Clint was his last option.

At first, talking to you was partially meaningless, nothing other than a way to kill his boredom. But the more you revealed yourself to him, the more you gave him glances at the snapshots of your life, the more he found himself falling deeper and deeper.

Before he knew it, talking to you became the highlight of his day.

So when he noticed you getting visibly frustrated whilst he spoke, it shattered all of his hopes of your relationship developing. Communication was key to any successful relationship, but every time he spoke it was hard for you to understand him, leaving the both of you defeated. Which lead him to the conclusion that sign language was his last resort.

He had learnt enough sign language to hold a decent conversation with someone; he knew all the basics and was almost fluent in the alphabet. Clint had encouraged him to talk to you as soon as possible but he hadn’t found the courage to do it.

What if you thought he was a complete fool and laughed in his face?

He pushed that thought to the back of his head as he strolled into the living room, glancing around to find you. Clint tapped your foot gently, signalling to Bucky when you snapped your head at him. Before you had the chance to greet him, Bucky was holding his human hand out to you, rocking on the balls of his feet nervously. You furrowed your eyebrows before standing up and accepting, glancing at Clint who just grinned knowingly.

Bucky lead you through the hall until he came to a door labelled ‘private’. He inhaled deeply before ushering you into the foreign room. The realisation hit you as soon as you entered. This was the old, almost unrecognisable conference room. The walls were no longer lined with stacks of chairs and the huge glass table that was usually placed in the middle was absent.

Instead, there was a small wooden table located opposite two adjacent armchairs that had been placed in there, all facing the New York skyline. A set of Tulips were placed neatly on the table along with a tall flickering candle that’s reflection could be seen in the glass.

Countless questions were whizzing around in your brain, but the reassuring feeling of Bucky holding your hand was enough to silence every single one of them. He directed you over to the pair of chairs, you both sat down in silence, taking in the extraordinary landscape ahead of you.

Bucky turned to you, fumbling with the sleeve of his shirt nervously. “Hello Y/N,” He signed, his human and metal hands colliding with each other.

Unsure, you signed a hello back, staring at his hands. He began rubbing the nape of his neck as if to calm himself down.

“For months-“Bucky began signing, but stopped cautiously. You nodded at him, urging for him to go on, “I have practised to sign.”

“Why?” You breathed. Your eyes searched his face for an answer but his eyes were closed and his face scrunched up.

“I want to talk to you, and this was the only way.” He signed shakily, his lip becoming trapped by his teeth.

Your heart was beating at an abnormal pace and your cheeks were reddening by the second as you turned over what he said in your head. A flood of tears were forming behind your eyes as the man in front of you reached over for your hand. Nobody had ever done such a grand gesture for you. Even your old friends refused to learn any form of sign language because it was too difficult.

“Bucky. You really didn’t have to do this for me,” You said softly, “-but this means so much to me.”

“I wanted to coffee you happy,” Bucky signed.

A giggle escaped your lips at what Bucky had said. It was common to muddle the words ‘make’ and ‘coffee’ up, especially for a beginner, but you couldn’t help but laugh at him.  

Bucky frantically shook his head and began getting to his feet urgently. You reached out towards him and grasped both of his hands. You slowly made the gesture for coffee, “This one means coffee.” You then moved his hands to form the sign of make, “And this one means make.”

Bucky began laughing at his error as you tried to encourage him. “This is harder than you and Clint make it look,” He spoke, traces of laughter still clear on his face.

“You’re doing well.” You motioned slowly, your eyes glittering with happiness.

Bucky leant over to the arrangement of yellow tulips on the table and grabbed them. “Your favourites,” Bucky began. “You told me you loved these on a mission.”

Your breath hitched in your throat at your shock. You remember that mission fondly and at almost every party Natasha tells the story of you stopping fighting Hydra to pick some yellow Tulips that were growing and wearing one in your hair for the rest of the day. You were surprised Bucky remembered.

“You remembered?” Bucky nodded in response to your question. He handed you the flowers slowly, a warm look spread across his face at your reaction. You admired the flowers carefully, before diverting your attention back towards Bucky.

“So,” He closed his eyes slightly before continuing to sign, “How about a date?”

Your eyes lit up immediately, a hoard of elephants began dancing around in your stomach. It was as if you could feel every little step they made and a jolt of nervousness erupted over your whole body.

“As if I’d say no to you,” You grinned hugely. You signed a hurried “Yes.” Before moving over to where Bucky was sitting. He stood up, towering over you as you wrapped your arms around his waist. Your head was buried in his shirt and he rested his chin on top of your head.

“I’m one lucky girl, Barnes,” You mumbled. You knew in that moment that there was no other place better than together and in his arms, and you sure as hell didn’t want to let go.

callout for bon enoshimo

@enoshimo

previously/also known as:

names:
pb
payton
isaiah
neo 

urls:
tinpet
anongore
bxp
bugmilks
bonbel
ireallylovemilk
sugarpea1
heterophobism
hochoemoji
bonnibel1
stringtheorys
ageist
probably some others i dont know

alright to start off- i know bon has stated not to publically call her out but all the issues i’m going to talk about have been brought to her attention and she refuses to even listen much less apologize for them (that ive seen, if she has in fact apologized for anything here let me know). 

shes even ignored anons (i know because i’ve sent some) about issues or answered in the format of a post without the ask (’@anon i really dont want to talk about that because of drama it will cause’ ((not a direct/actual quote, just an example)) ) which is often used by people as a way to avoid drama/being called out because no one will know what the ask said and therefore wont know about the persons shitty behavior. 

bon also usually deletes drama off her blog shortly after it happens, purposefully making it very hard to hold her accountable for things she says as theres no proof directly on her blog.

so i feel its important to let people know about stuff shes done thats not okay since she wont see that its wrong and wont apologize. she wont be civil about it and right her wrongs and people have a right to know. so here we go

also i’ve never written a formal callout before so if this sucks im sorry lol

getting onto the actual callout. its pretty long, so there is a tl;dr at the end. but please, if you can, read the whole thing. its important and provides a lot of evidence. also all the images are transcribed.  

topics/tws: racism, ableism, guilt tripping, manipulation

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

ADHD isn't real it's just an excuse for spoiled kids to be annoying little shits without getting in trouble

Unfortunately, ADHD comes from all types of backgrounds, “spoiled” or not. Rich, poor. White, black, hispanic, asian. 

ADHD is as real as your ignorance is.

anonymous asked:

why are so many feminists hating on katy perry and saying horrible things? isn't that what we should be stopping?

Well, first of all, Katy Perry is racist. She appropriates and makes fun of other cultures and when she’s criticized she refuses to apologize and just makes excuses. The epitome of white ignorance and privliege. 

Second of all, she’s not very feminist herself since she literally went as far as to sabotage Taylor Swift’s tour in the defense of an abuser. Katy Perry defended John Mayer, who is known for treating women like shit, after Taylor wrote a song about his emotionally abusive behavior and literally stole her background dancers in retaliation instead of standing up for other women. 

Misogynists and racists aren’t protected under feminism.