my life is actually going really well lately


I’m so excited to announce that I get to go to my first concert EVER! I’m seeing @taylorswift in Seattle at CenturyLink Field on May 22, my first fan event after being a fan for over ten years!

Dear Taylor (I’m about to get super sappy),

Your music has gotten me through a lot of hard times (friend breakups, being homeless, depression). As a writer, I’ve long admired your commitment and vulnerability in always trying to write honest and meaningful stories in your songs, even and especially when it comes to painful topics or emotions.

I’m a young adult novelist (like The Hunger Games! I freaked out when you wrote songs for the soundtrack) and I always have at least one of your songs on any book inspiration playlist I make. Reputation is actually a big inspiration for my current fantasy novel! I’d love to have the opportunity to tell you and @taylornation more about it in Seattle (as well as what you and your music have meant to me), but I know that no matter what I’m going to have a great time and go home inspired.

I’ve been having a very difficult time health and life wise lately, so this event has been the highlight of my spring ever since I found out I could really go a few weeks ago. Any of my friends and family could attest to the fact that I haven’t shut up about reputation since it was announced in August or my commitment to the Taylor Defense Squad since basically forever, LOL.

Hopefully I’ll meet a lot of new friends too! I’m going alone. I’m nervous, but I know there will be a lot of likeminded people there to hang out with.

xoxo Lily




Told me to go to a job interview except I was attacked on the way there by a demon and so he came and exorcised the demon and then told me that I was actually the son of Satan and then he got possessed by Satan and was gonna die so I released my demonic powers to try to save him but it was already too late and so I vowed to become an exorcist to try to avenge his death as well as to make sure know one has to die because of me again but I don’t really do much during exorcist cram school except sleep so I’m basically screwed anyway how’s your life going?

agesavage  asked:

Um hi? My name's Adrian, I got a voucher in the mail for a free mulligan at your company? I dont want to like, invent anything or steal anyone's music... No I've... ive got this really good idea for a tv show, but i think its too late to ever make it... I don't have anything else except just my blog, can you go back and like, make my younger self, like, rhink of all these ideas way earlier in life? I want to be a famous filmmaker already by now!

Rel Ative #2

>> Read the Intro

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The woman looks you up and down with a smile: “Very well. You’re actually the first to ever use one of these vouchers. Here you go. Please follow me into the lab, where a time specialist will write down what you want to change about the past.”

You look at the woman in surprise. This seems a bit easy. You want to ask her where the catch is, but she’s already on her way and gesturing you to follow quickly. You do just that and are led to a small office with another woman sitting on a desk. You sit down on the other side.

“So.. Adrian is it?”. The woman has a cold attitude. “You want to put some ideas in your younger version’s head so that he can be successful earlier in life? It’s a common request honestly. I take it you do understand that with using the coupon you agree to take place in some more experimental procedures here at the company?”

“Experimental procedures?”, you ask. You hadn’t thought about that, but now you understand - why would they just give you access to such a costly technology for free? “What kind of experiment?”, you stammer.

“It’s nothing to worry about really”, the woman assures you. She looks up a few documents on her computer and seems to be browsing a list. “I do have some interesting experimental extras for your trip that fit your situation.”
“Will you tell me what they are?”, you wonder. The woman looks you up and down realizing that you’re about to bail out on the new information. “Really. I told you.. nothing to worry. One of the experimental methods is that instead of you actually writing down ideas on a sheet of paper, a machine will read your brain waves and automatically send everything to your past’s self. Isn’t that nice? You don’t have to do anything. We’re just trying to improve your experience.”
You feel a bit easier now, even though she has only revealed the meaning of one of the several checkboxes she has clicked. But it seems like they really only want to do the best possible service, so you agree to the terms. You’re led to the door and step through it.

The room behind it is completely white, like in sci-fi movies. Only a man in a white suit is inside waiting for you. You slowly move towards him. As the door closes behind you, you almost expect not to be able to breathe. That’s how alien this room looks to you. The man has a syringe in his hand. He tells you that he’ll need to inject you with this state-of-the-art anesthetic. As he does so, you feel the world get blurry and everything starts to spin slowly. It’s like being high, but soon your body loses the battle against the sleepiness. You fall on the floor and the last thing you see is more people in white clothes coming in to pick you up. Then everything goes dark.

“Welcome back to Jinkxed! The show where bimbos are made!” The crowd roars. Our candidates today have been more than interesting. Peter - a football coach - hasn’t started with a lot of IQ points, but has been able to keep more than our special guest Adrian - the original creator of this show. After five seasons he has finally admitted that when creating this show, all he really wanted was to be a candidate himself. He has been going to the randomizer four times every round so far and has been suffering the most amount of transformations I’ve ever seen somebody get this early in the game. Maybe he has been losing on purpose?” The camera is pointed at you. “How are you feeling Adrian?”

“Uhmm… like… super”, is what your mind scrambles together like on auto-pilot as the camera moves close to your face and you can see the reflection of a ditzy blonde bimbo with heavy makeup.
Your brain feels slow. What the hell is going on here? You vaguely remember the time travel service and the experiments. Oh shit! They must have messed up the ideas you had for tv shows and instead made your younger self interested in the same erotic fetishes you write up on your Tumblr blog. And now you are in the same situation - getting transformed into a fetish bimbo sex slave - and even worse, you chose to do so yourself. You feel a rush of horniness shoot through your body. The situation you’re in is both terrifying and extremely sexual. The fear of what you’ll turn out, in the end, is too much for you and a strong orgasm shakes your whole world. You want this. To give up control. To be transformed into your deepest darkest desires.

You realize you just had an orgasm on live tv. The tv host laughs and finally says: “Wow. The random orgasm card has really done a number on you. Anyhow, are you ready for your next path to the randomizer? Just hit the big red button in front of you, babe.”
As you hit the button you feel excited. What perverse fantasy of you will become true next?

“Aaand the slots are running. What will it be? Ohh there’s the first card - the high heel. Well looks like it’s game over for comfortable footwear for you. Your feet will be genetically altered so they always only fit in high heels. And here comes the second slot. Oh my.. another IQ drop. I don’t think I’ve ever seen somebody go this low on their IQ. Oh my god it wasn’t finished. It’s a double .. noo a triple IQ drop. Is this even possible? Can somebody backstage confirm that we are even able to drop her IQ more than it already is? Wow.. the randomizer just keeps going so I guess it’s fine. And it’s one of the cruelest ones we have - the radar vision. Your eyes will forever only be able to focus on the biggest dick around you. It will help you find it so you can be an even better little bimbo. And the last one… uh, this is a special one. The leash. You’ll see what it does soon enough.

You’re brought backstage to the transformation machine, that you vaguely remember inventing yourself, because of your commitment to the bimbo fetish community from your early childhood. You always wanted to be a scientist just so you could invent this machine and your subconscious always wanted you to become the biggest bimbo there ever was. You started wearing women’s clothes and a chasity when you were just thirteen years old. Your mind must have been flooded with bimbofication porn. You’ve become a total sissy in this dimension. You think about how remarkable it is that you could’ve turned out to be in such a different position in this reality, but you cannot complete the thought because the machine starts its work on your brain and melts all thoughts away. You try to calculate simple math equations in your head to see if you’re still capable of basic thinking, but no matter how hard you try you cannot add one plus one together and soon you forget the concept of math or the idea that there is a “one” in the first place.

Only sexual energy remains. Horny. You’re so horny. Sex. “Fuck me”, you hear yourself say not sure to whom exactly, but your eyes are locked on the trousers of a man close to you.
You hear some strange mumblings that you cannot put into any words. Only the audience understands the language the presenter uses anymore and that your last card has been making you unable to walk. Instead, you’re bound to walking on all fours. As the next game continues nobody is able to stop laughing at you. They don’t see you as human anymore. This game has to do with some kind of forms on little fields, but you don’t understand.

Finally, the tv show host announces that you’ve lost this game as well. You’re brought to the randomizer a final time. This last game gave only one randomizer slot to you. It’s something no one in this show has seen before and even the production team look at each other in horror. Weeks later, you lay on the bed in the local brothel, getting fucked hard by a stranger. You are unable to move because your arms and legs have been removed. You’re so helpless and you love it. This is where you were meant to be. You feel like you’re nothing more than an expensive sex toy getting fucked by strangers several times a day. On the tv, there’s a news report about someone named Adrian - the inventor of a tv show and that apparently he has been cheating by preprogramming the randomizer. Of course, you don’t understand a word, but the guy behind you says: “Oh my god. The bitch did this to herself on purpose? How fucked up is that?”, but he doesn’t stop fucking you for a second.

Suddenly everything is dark again. You’re yourself again and you can think clearly. You hear voices in the distance. “Finally. We’re through. We’ve made it. We can take him back.”

You scream: “No stop… this is what I’ve wanted. I want to stay here.”, but it’s too late. You are sucked through the wormhole again and are back in your original reality - in your original body. You feel frustrated because you will never be able to feel the same bliss again in your life ever again.

Apparently, the company has been experimenting with a new technique that allows them to transport you back. You tell them that you didn’t want to go back and that everything was going exactly as you had planned it to go, but they only tell you that you can only get back by paying the regular amount of money, which is around a few million dollar. You are left here with the absolute need to become her - your perfect vision of bliss. Instead of falling into depression, though, you feel determined to go through with it and become the ultimate bimbo sissy in this reality as well. The future is yet to be written and you will be a dumb bimbo whore in it.


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thoseofgreatambition  asked:

Howdy my love! For the 'more than friends list' “The date didn’t go well. Yeah, she/he didn’t like how I kept mentioning all of our adventures.”, “You’ve been pouting ever since I went out on that date, what’s up?” and “Okay, maybe I am a bit jealous.” for George X Reader? Thank you darling!

anything for you my dear!! :)


  • “The date didn’t go well. Yeah, she/he didn’t like how I kept mentioning all of our adventures.”
  • “You’ve been pouting ever since I went out on that date, what’s up?” 
  • “Okay, maybe I am a bit jealous.” 

In order to take a few more risks in life, earlier today you had actually agreed to accompany someone (who had pressing you for a few weeks now, which was really quite annoying) on a date. 

The two of you had decided on a late afternoon date to Three Broomsticks just for something casual. They were nice enough, and there was nothing seemingly wrong with them - they just weren’t your type at all. You couldn’t help feeling rather uncomfortable throughout the whole ordeal.

You decided to bite the bullet and end the date early, which is how you found yourself walking back to Hogwarts castle alone from Hogsmeade.

It was close to dinner time when you arrived back, and you made your way into the Great Hall where everyone was gathering for food.

“Oi!” a voice called out to you. Instantly, you recognize it as your best friend, George. Giving him a wave, you walk over to where he’s sitting and take the empty spot beside of him. “Where were you this afternoon?”

“Had that date, remember?” you reply.

He tries inconspicuously to roll his eyes, but you catch it anyway. “You might have mentioned it,” he mumbles to you, taking a bite of his food. There’s a bitter look on his face and you’re pretty positive it isn’t from his meal.

You’ve been pouting ever since I told you I agreed to it,” you say, furrowing your eyebrows. “What’s up?

“I just think they’re a bit of a tosser,” he says simply, shrugging his shoulders.

Letting out a laugh, you shake your head at him. He seems to think anyone who gives you attention lately is a tosser. “If I didn’t know any better, George Weasley, I’d say you were jealous.”

“Rubbish. I don’t get jealous,” he scoffs. Quickly, as if to change the subject, he adds, “Well, how did it go then?”

Not well,” you admit to him. “Most of my stories end up mentioning our adventures and they didn’t like it too much.”

“So they’re the jealous one, eh?” he says with a smirk, which causes you to laugh a little. “Which one did you tell, the one where we -”

“You’re really skirting along the fact that I’m right, aren’t you?” you accuse him, narrowing your eyes playfully. “You’re bothered by it.”

He takes a few more bites of food, and you can almost see the wheels turning in his head on ways to avoid this conversation. After a few moments, he succumbs and tells you, “Okay, maybe I am jealous. But -”

“Then do something about it, Weasley,” you cut him off with a grin. 

“I -” he pauses. “What?”

You laugh and repeat, “Do something about it.”

He studies your face for a moment, and you suppose he’s waiting for you to laugh and say your prompting was a joke. But it’s not, and once that’s clear to him, a smile spread across his face and it’s almost victorious looking. He nods at you in agreement.

“Trust me,” he assures. “I can show you what a real date is like.”

i love you leeann and i hope you like this!!!

agenderraskel  asked:

What would Tony's villains do if he tried to date regular people? And how many points is a Tony hug?

Interfere. As. Much. As. Possible.

Not to say that there aren’t exceptions. Quite a a few villains don’t care one way or another if Tony is dating but it only takes a handful to really mess with your love life. And one trait a lot of villain’s share (at least in my head, I’m actually not sure if canon would agree) is their tendency to obsess. And they don’t share their obsessions well, if at all.

They probably wouldn’t go all out and kill Tony’s dates. That seems a little excessive and would definitely incur Tony’s wrath. But they do disrupt Tony’s time with them as often as possible, hack those dates’ phones or steal them, so they won’t be able to contact Tony as easily, make them (or Tony) late through cleverly timed accidents, misplace gifts and letters, that sort of thing.

A Tony Stark hug is worth a lot of points. Because it’s very rare and because it’s very coveted. Also Tony is a paranoid bastard convinced they’re all out to handcuff him–long story, don’t ask–so it’s really, really hard to get him to wrap his arms around you. 

Run To You // Sam x Reader P5

Pairing: Sam Wilson x POC Reader, Bucky Barnes x POC Reader
Word Count: 2k+
Warning: HERE’S THAT SMUT YOU WERE LOOKING FOR (it’s really brief tho, lmao sorry), fluff, language, angst, FEELINGS, there’s also a brief amount of violence but it’s just Natasha being the overprotective friend she is.

Summary: Things on the Compound escalate. A very angry Natasha and Steve make their disapproval known. Sam finally confesses.

A/N: HOLY SHIT THIS IS THE FIRST TIME I’VE EVER WRITTEN MORE THAN 10K WORDS. I AM S H O O K. Thank you thank you thank you everyone for your kind words. I never could have dreamed this would be received so well. Oh and i actually managed to not go completely over 2k lmao. 

Inspiration: “Was it something I didn’t say” ~ 98º

I took for granted that you knew, yeah
Oh love, the love I had for you, yeah
I guess you never had a clue
‘Til it was too late, you walked away

All the words were in my heart
Oh, they went unspoken
Baby, now my silent heart is a heart that’s broken…


Keep reading


Title: Unconditionally

Jensen Ackles x Reader

Word Count: 650

Warnings: sickening fluff. Like, all of the fluff. It’s actually pretty cheesy too.

A/N: This is a request from the lovely @emoryhemsworth. I hope you are doing well, hun. Sorry this took so long! And I’m sorry it’s so short. But, I didn’t want anyone’s teeth to rot.<3

Request: “Hi there! So as you know, I’ve been going through a really hard time in my personal life lately, and I was wondering if you could write something where the reader really struggles with self-hate (she thinks she’s too short, chubby, and has too much baggage, etc.) but Jensen tells her all the things he loves about her and reassures her that he only has eyes for her? Maybe with the song “God, Your Mama, and Me” by Florida-Georgia Line ft. The Backstreet Boys as inspiration? Thank you”

Wayward Moeyy’s Master List

Originally posted by sammyxdean

“It looked better on the hanger,” you muttered as you stared at yourself in the mirror. You tugged at the hem of your plum colored blouse, letting out a deep sigh. Your eyes scanned over every visible bump and roll under the soft fabric. Your lip snarled as your gaze traveled further down to the black skinny jeans that hugged your legs, bunching around your ankles. Ugh. You weren’t a fan of those either. Even your jet black heels did nothing to give you some much needed height.

But, you had nothing else to wear. Well, nothing new

You and Jensen had been planning this date for a while. It was your second anniversary, and it had taken you over a week to find the perfect outfit. The very outfit that you now wanted to throw into the fireplace.

A knock at the door spooked you, causing you to turn. Your breath shot out of you as you watched Jensen enter the room, dressed in a stunning, dark green dress shirt and black slacks. God, he was gorgeous. Which made you wonder why he was sticking around.

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Almost Always

So I tried writing a thing? Idk, I wanted Patton to open up in light of Moving On pt 1. So yeah, enjoy my first fic feat. familial moxiety! Added a read more because it’s a bit long

Patton took in everything around him. The table he sat at, the clink of forks and knives as the others ate dinner, their plates, their glasses, the food. Roman giving an elaborate, likely highly exaggerated, account of his most recent quest. His voice creating a vivid landscape punctuated by wild gestures emphasizing the story’s events. Logan listening to him intently, clearly not appreciating the lapses in reality, eyes unmistakably displaying annoyance. But, he never interrupted the prince’s tale, and his mouth, normally hard set in a neutral line, tipped up at the ends ever so slightly. He was enjoying this. Virgil  also uncharacteristically content. He sat straight up with his shoulders relaxed, the small smirk on his face a real smile. Patton looked between the three of them; scenes like this weren’t all that common in the mind palace and they always made his heart sing.

Well, almost always, apparently.

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Alexander  pt.8 [BTS Jungkook ] (M)

jungkook x reader (y/N)

bts members

Genre : angst/smut/fluff  

Mature contents: this is not a fairy tale leave if you don’t like it,

Summary: he gave me fire and i need to find him ;with him i saw stars ,i wasn’t scared i felt safe.. i liked his kisses and i wish we meet again …

part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 


Originally posted by sugutie

hey guys how have you been i hope you enjoy the chapter 

thx for the cute memory baby haha @pinkrima i love you ^^

you opened your eyes trailing your fingers up ,you felt the velvet bed surface  touching the tips the room was really dark and since jungkook wasn’t there it was cold 

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Lately’ actually came out at a perfect time for me tbh. I’ve actually been having more episodes of depression recently and this song just speaks to me. I’ll be ok, just some days go really slow & idk what I’m doing with…well anything in my life. I actually get little extra emotions when I listen to it too.


anonymous asked:

Do you know of any good Chanhun fanfic? I've only found like 2 good ones 😕

Sorry for the late reply, school and my internship have been taking up a good majority of my life right now. 

I actually have quite a list of chanhun fics that I have found that I really enjoyed. A lot of the time I go to some pages where I can find links to chanhun fan fictions as well I will include those below as well.

Thunderbirds     Chapter 29

   Jane wrapped her arms around Roger.  “What happened?”

   “I just told you,” he replied with a pout.  

   Jane sighed.  “Roger, I know she didn’t just come over one day and say “You’re too exhausting, I’m taking my toothbrush and going home.”. What happened?”

   “She did it at dinner. And she’s been complaining for a while. I mentioned maybe flying out to see you when your tour picked back up and we got in this big fight about how I never stay in town with her when I’m not working, and how I’m always running off to do this and that and she just said I was unstable and exhausting and she’d had enough. Left before the dessert cart.”

Keep reading

There’s one person I know who kinda pats herself on the back too much for… kinda bare minimum trans stuff. I’m letting it go, because she’s going through a ton right now. Annnnnd I realize lately that I’ve become very picky at what sort of conflict I’m willing to have in my life.

Distant people who ultimately mean well probably? Not interested in picking a fight. People who are shitheads? Lmao still not really willing to. People who care about me and love me? Well, I’ll talk with them calmly and patiently because I also care and love them.

I like this approach much better because wow I actually have friends and a community now. Like, wow, people actually, actively want to hang out with me and invite me to things.

At times it makes me think I’m not sticking up for myself when I should be, and I think that’s true in some cases. I super don’t want to be a doormat, and I want to feel comfortable being assertive when I think it’s appropriate. I’m gonna try to find a better balance with that.

But yeah it’s been good unlearning the sort of faux-radical, flat out mean-spirited and self-aggrandizing crud that often comes from college activist scenes.


I’ve always admired the bullet journal, but I just never thought I could adapt one into my planning routine. But lately I’ve been seeing so much amazing inspiration on YouTube and in the studyblr community, I couldn’t resist getting a bullet journal of my own any longer. This is my setup so far. I think it’s actually perfect for my planning routine and actually compliments my Kikki K planner well. 

While my ring planner is used for life organization and planning, my bullet journal will be a productivity center, where I can track tasks and goals, as well as general note taking, list making, and project planning.

I’m really excited! I think the bullet journal is really going to help me stay organized and productive this year.

Married Life With Sam Winchester Would Include...

Originally posted by samgirlsclub

*Not My Gif*

• Having Sam get things off of the top shelf for you

His shirts becoming your shirts

• Lazy Sundays whenever you get them

• You and Sam trying for kids a year after you get married

• Sam always wanting to buy organic food

• You and Sam adopting a golden retriever

• Sam naming your dog William

• Going to Dean and talking with him whenever you and Sam get in an argument 

• Sam actually trying to get out of the hunting life

• Late nights watching movies

• Sam getting jealous when you say that Steve Rogers if hot

“Captain America is really hot.” 

“Well, you’re mine, not his.”

“I know, Sam.”

• Always needing to hold you when you sleep

• Eventually moving out of the bunker together

• You and Sam going on picnics with William

• Always making a cake for Sam’s birthday and Sam doing the same for you

• Spending the whole day at home for anniversaries

• Telling Sam not to get you presents on your anniversaries

• Sam getting you presents anyway


“Don’t say anything, princess, just enjoy the present.”

• Holding hands all the time in public

• Sam pecking your lips at random times

• Messing with Sam’s hair all the time

• Catching Sam cuddling Willam on the couch

• Standing on your toes to kiss Sam

• Sam always, always complimenting you and making sure that you feel loved

The Letter - Bucky Barnes x Reader

You and bucky have been going out for a long time and you tell him you love him but he doesn’t respond. he goes through a huge internal battle and asks steve and the rest of the avengers what he should do bc he’s afraid he’s hurt your feelings but he also isn’t the same person he used to be after hydra. and end it however you want :)

A/N: Okay so this is probably the greatest thing i’ve written, I’m so proud of it I actually cried though I also blame the fact that I’m listening to really sad classical music.

You were heartbroken, two days ago you’d said to your boyfriend that you loved him. And in return you got silence, he had opened and closed his mouth so many times that he looked like a goldfish and then he stormed out. You suppose it could have been worse, he could have not yelled out a dumb excuse along the lines of, “I think Steve wanted me for an important mission.”

Now you sat in your room with a tub of Ben & Jerry’s in your hands, you knew that it was rather stereotypical of you but it was the only thing that managed to soothe your woes. That is, until an envelope is suddenly shoved from underneath your door, it was the sound of it being slipped through that drew your attention and as soon as you saw it you got up and grabbed it.

You’d always been a curious creature, which is why as soon as it was in your hand you analysed every detail. The envelope was a simple white colour and on the back your name was written on in messy scrawl, you recognised it as Bucky’s and that caused you to practically rip open the envelope. Though you were still careful not to rip the contents. Inside the envelope were three pages and you were swiftly hypnotised by them, the rest of the world disappearing as you concentrated solely on the words written on each page.

Dear Y/N,

I’m not really good with words, I’m not poetic and I’m certainly not the most romantic person in the world. Unlike you, I remember on our first anniversary you prepared this entire afternoon which was probably the most romantic thing anyone had ever done for me, it started off with a shared breakfast in bed and of course other activities in said bed. Then we went for a walk through the park and that’s when you revealed you somehow managed to set up a treasure hunt with clues placed everywhere.

I hated it at first, but the smile on your face that grew every time I found a clue was what pushed me to complete the task. I’d be lying if I said that I was happy to find the suit at the end of it all, I was wondering why you’d got me it considering you knew how much I hated getting dressed up and just going out in general.

But then you further surprised me by taking me to a take away, we got so many silly looks because we were both dressed up. It got us free pudding though which was great, I didn’t even know takeaways served pudding. It was probably that moment when I realised that you were the one for me. Now that I’ve said that, you’re probably confused as to why I completely rejected you after you said that you loved me. And at first I was confused too, I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you, but I couldn’t grow to say it and so I left.

It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, the internal battle I went through once I left almost destroyed me. God, I sound really cheesy I know but hear me out. I may not have told you everything about my past (yet), but from what you know, you can tell that some things are hard for me to deal with. Like love, that’s probably the hardest thing for me to deal with. Not because I’m scared of hurting you like I hurt everything else, not because you’re some sort of weakness for me. But because you are too good for me.

I can’t give you everything I want to give you. If I had my way, I would shower you in peony’s (do I get brownie points for knowing your favourite flower?) and we’d live in some cottage, with two dogs and two kids. A girl and a boy. I want that for us, so badly. I want to be able to go grocery shopping with you, and I want to be able to argue with you over which is the better cheese to buy and I want to just love you in every possible way. And I want to succeed in this, up until the age of eighty when we’re both sitting on some rocking chairs reminiscing about the days when we could actually walk without our backs hurting.

But Y/N, I’ll never be able to give you that. All I can really give you is a life of constantly wondering if I’ll come back home after a mission, a life where I get really angry if you’re late coming back from a mission - especially if you come back hurt - a life where kids are never going to be a planned thing and dogs… well we could probably get a dog actually.

After you said you loved me, I went to Steve. Which probably isn’t a big surprise to you. I told him what happened and I told him my fears, and how I think I have really messed up this time around by not telling you I love you. He told me to be honest which, again, probably isn’t a big surprise to you. So I’m taking his advice, and I’m also taking the rest of the Avengers advice. Well, not all of them, Vision ended up giving me some statistics about the likelihood of relationships succeeding and I’m still not sure whether he was trying to help or not. It’s something like we have a one in sixteen chance of lasting for more than seven years. But we’ve managed two so far, we’re almost halfway there.

Tony told me that I should buy you a large teddy but I don’t think you’d much appreciate that considering how small our room is already, Nat agreed with me on that and told me I should just get you flowers. Clint said that whenever he does something dumb he works to get back in his “wife’s good books” by fixing a room or babysitting the kids and allowing her to go to a spa or something. But as we don’t have kids or a house, I don’t really think his advice is helpful.

Really none of their advice was helpful, except for Steve’s. He was right to tell me that you needed to know the truth because that’s what a relationship is (or at least that’s what all those rom coms you forced me to watch have taught me). And I still want this relationship, more than anything, I want you and me to have a semblance of a future that may or may not include a dog.

I’m not the man I used to be, and I think for a brief moment after you told me you loved me I went back to being him. The man who was lost, who had no memory whatsoever and who wandered a new earth that was totally different from what little memories I had coming through. But I’m not the man I used to be. I’m not.

And the reason I’m not is because I met you, the day you accidentally fell into my arms and spilled boiling hot coffee over my metal arm (I will never forget how adorable it was when you got all panicked and took me to the first aid kit, only to find out my arm was made of adamantium), was the day that I became Bucky. Not the old Bucky, a new one, one with a future again.

God, I wish I could write down how much you mean to me. I wish I could take all these stirring emotions and place them on the paper so you could truly see how much I feel for you.

I’ve killed people, I’ve held people’s lives in the palm of my hand and I’ve taken it away without a second thought. I’ve slept for numerous years, experiencing nothing but darkness because dreams never happened to me. I’ve gone to far away places, and seen the beauty of this planet, as well as it’s horror. I’ve felt the biting cold chill my fingers into clumsy numbness, I’ve felt cold seep into my toes and spread painfully throughout my feet as though they were bare and pressed against some part of the Arctic. I’ve had my lips turn a blueish hue and I’ve had my teeth chatter like a pneumatic drill. I’ve battled myself, strangers, and my friends. I have stood at the edge of a cliff and begged desperately for my body to just fall off into the watery wasteland. I have seeked an end to my turmoil, and I have seeked a euphoria that can never truly be found.

But I found you, and you make all my past problems absolute. You make everything in my past seem like a story fit for a comic book or something. Maybe it’s your smile that just seems so genuinely sweet with just the right touch of shyness that unexpected warmth always rushes through me. Maybe it’s your laugh, which sounds odd to anyone but like music to me. Maybe it’s the way you walk, like you’re proud to be in your body and to be in this life. Maybe it’s the way you wear your hair, or how many flannels you own, or how you like to tell me stories, or how you love that dumb show I can never remember the name of, maybe it’s the way you sing like no one’s listening, or the way you dance like no one’s watching. Maybe it’s the way you constantly complain about how I’m too warm but then demand that we still cuddle at night, or maybe it’s because of how much you love being the big spoon. All I know, is that I would gladly go through every painful and torturous moment again as long as it meant you were waiting for me at some point.

I’m done making lists now, Y/N. I know I’ve probably made you cringe a lot with my words, but I did prepare you at the beginning of this letter in my defence. Please come to the living room, I’ll be waiting.

Love from your Bucky.

You placed the letter down and wiped away the tears that had involuntarily began to fall midway through the letter; there was really only thing left for you to do. You stood up and made your way to the living room.

anonymous asked:

things have actually been going really well for me lately and I feel vaguely happy. It's just, I thought when things started going well, I would suddenly be motivated and enjoy life. But I don't. I find it so hard to get things done, to clean my room even. But I feel happiness on the outside like it's there but bouncing off my skin. I should be happy and wonderful but something is still so wrong and off, I feel like crying all the time. What is wrong with me? I hate it

Hello there! Thank you for reaching out and I’m sorry that you are feeling this way. It seems like there are some aspects of your life that you are not content or satisfied with. However, I want to remind you that as human beings, we are not entitled to be fully happy and will always continue to search for that nonexistent, perfect happiness.

There are ways to help alleviate this empty feeling you have inside and this can take the form of finding new hobbies or developing ones that you already have. Go make plans with someone you haven’t seen in a while (i.e. grabbing coffee or food!). Also, here’s an article that provides a list of additional suggestions to help you gravitate towards positivity 

I find that usually when you are isolated and alone, these feelings tend to come up. Make sure you give yourself a break here and there and talk to someone when you need to. I hope this helps.

One love,

Kelly Nguyen

Asking Jude needs YOUR help! Donate pocket change here and save our safe space. 

Two Guys, One Scooter--A Secret Santa Fic

This holiday fic is a gift for my non-fandom secret santa recipient @paintmeahero. It is late, for which I’m sorry, but hopefully it is both intelligible and enjoyable nonetheless.

Thanks go to @ilarual and @bendandcurl for the eyes, as well as @therewithasmile who looked at the beginning. Also, Salt Chat gets credit for LYLAS.

This is a silly, cracky, fluffy HS AU inspired by nothing more than my actual real life amusement at recently having seen two guys on a tiny motor scooter.  TWICE.

You can also read it on FFN and AO3.

It begins innocently enough. Soul has broken his pencil, and his good friend (who he maybe kind of sort of really likes in a not friend sort of way) has finished her exam predictably early and excused herself to the restroom, so he helps himself to her bag to find something else to write with.

Instead, he finds something wrapped in festive holiday paper with a card taped to the top, his name scrawled on the envelope with a heart drawn around it. A heart. What does that mean? Hell, why has she gotten him a gift? Sure it’s the last day before winter break, but they never exchange holiday gifts.

Except, apparently, now they do.

Well, shit.

Soul manages to stop gaping into her bag like a hooked fish long enough to find a pencil and return to his half finished test.

Desperate times–he hasn’t studied anyway, so he employs the Star method of exam taking and makes patterns in the bubbles, finishing quickly. He is handing in his own exam and excusing himself to the restroom when Maka returns. Offering her a small wave, he goes to seek the one person who might be able to get him out of this mess.

Blake “call me Black Star” Barrett is, rather predictably, in the boys bathroom, flexing in the mirror. With his eye-searingly blue hair, he is hard to miss. The kid spends half his time away from class, his inability to focus legendary, and the toilets are a favorite hangout for whatever reason. Personally, Soul hates them; they always reek of urine, shit, and cheap pot– foulness incarnate–and he’d rather hold his piss all day than step foot inside when he can help it. Most days, he can help it.

But again, desperate times. He has three classes until lunch, three classes to try to get Maka a present without her realizing he didn’t have one to begin with, and Blake is the only person he knows with both a propensity to ditch and his own transportation.

“Eater, my man!” Star greets him with an overly enthusiastic clap on the shoulder, causing Soul to wince, “What brings you into my office this fine afternoon?” 

Soul doesn’t beat around the bush–doesn’t even scoff at his friend equating the shitter with a workspace like he’s fucking Fonzi–with Black Star, he’d be wasting his breath.

“Wanna ditch?”

“Seriously?” Star raises both eyebrows. “Won’t Mak–”

“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.” He grins sharply, and Star guffaws.

“Now that’s what I like to hear!” he shouts. “Let’s blow this Popsicle stand!”

They leave the bathroom as the bell rings, and Soul purposefully steers them away from Maka’s regular path on their trek to the parking lot. They arrive soon enough, looking like they have every right to take off as they please as they approach Black Star’s ride.

It’s an electric blue motor scooter emblazoned with a yellow star emblem. Soul has given him shit for it a thousand times, and Star has defended it as a vehicle worthy of an aspiring deity just as often, and now Soul is about to ride bitch on the tiny thing like the little bitch he so clearly is.

Desperate, desperate times. If only Kilik were the ditching type–he actually has a car. But no, it’s scooter or bust, so Soul swings his leg over after Star and fishes behind him for something to grip because no way in fuck is he gripping Star’s waist; that would be crossing at least half a dozen lines he has no interest in being anywhere near. Just no. He doesn’t even like hugging his own brother. Hugging Star, even out of necessity, would be tantamount to needing a dozen showers.

He finds the rack on the back and holds on tight, arms twisted awkwardly behind him. He knows they must look absurd–hell, Star looks absurd when he drives it alone–but his choices are this or no gift.

Soul takes his punishment like the masochist he is, sacrificing his cool card in the name of green eyes, ash blond pigtails, and a wide smile.

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