new dollar bill

Bucky Barnes Imagine; Naughty Therapist.

This has a little more naughtiness than I imagined, oh well. Enjoy! 

Let me know if you’d like to see a little smut! 

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Steamy Makeout.

Word Count: I truly have no idea.

Request: Hello! A Bucky request where reader is his psychologist working for the avengers and plus she is his girlfriend but nobody knows about it since they can fire her of it. Somehow Steve and Tony finds about it and doesn’t tells anyone.

You have been called to a meeting with Fury, you walked in your black heels towards the meeting room, looking out the window, watching how the clouds floated on the air before knocking on the door. 

“Come in.” Fury’s voice said from inside, you opened the door, revealing Fury sitting down on the head of the table, his eyes on his laptop. 

You went inside, walking towards him as you stood aside of the table. “You called?” 

He nodded, closing his laptop before settling his eyes on you. “Please, take a seat Y/n.” he said, you sat down on the chair next to him, placing your hands on your lap as you fidgeted. “As you know, the Avengers are currently dealing with a lot of things, they’re becoming more and more stressed. I thought why not assign you to them? You know for a few weeks to see how you do and if you like it you can settle down as their personal therapist.” he commented, his gaze fixed on you. 

Keep reading


Tae x Jungkook x Reader
SMUT Vampire AU
Warning: Blood, Rough Sex, Pain, Swearing, Dirty Talk…
1900 Words

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 3 (No Vkook) | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 |
Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 |

Walking up a dark, cold alleyway in the middle of the night in a part of the city that I did not know began to seem like a very bad idea, a very bad idea indeed. Bleak, dim lighting on the high poles above my head were he only sources of illumination and they did little to reveal all the puddles of water and pot holes present on the ground that I kept stumbling into. I was told to wear nice ‘sexy’ clothes for this. Why was I told to dress provocatively if I was only donating blood and plasma to a private company? Why had I trusted my friend when she told me all about this amazing opportunity to get a lot of money and enjoy doing it as well? She was the type of friend who always got herself into trouble but I was desperate; student loans, rent, car insurance, food, it was all really starting to pile up and I needed some fast cash. The only thing that kept me from turning on my heels and backing out was the fact that Jazmin was beside me and clearly not worried at all, in fact, she seemed excited, desperate even, to reach our destination, the complete opposite to the nervous bubble growing in the pit of my stomach.


“UGH! Why does everything have to be so expensive!” I said in exasperation, flopping down onto the scattered notes and homework that shared the expanse of my bed. Jazmin sat at the small vanity that sat under the window on the side of my bedroom wall, bathed in the uncharacteristically bright February sunlight that filtered through my open blinds. I’m not sure if it was the flattering light or if she had somehow managed to become prettier in the last few months, but her medium brown hair seemed to shine and glitter with honey colored highlights and her skin glowed with a dewy radiance.

“AH! Speaking of expensive, here’s all that money I owe you..” she reached into her purse and grabbed her wallet, snapping it open and rifling through the many bills that were stuffed into it before handing me two new, crispy hundred dollar bills. I reached for the money, confused and disbelieving that she was paying me back after all this time. I had already resigned myself to not ever seeing that money ever again. I narrowed my eyes at her, suspicious.

“Is this real? How did you get this?” she just smiled and dismissed my suspicions with a wave of her hand.

“Don’t worry, it’s completely real and I didn’t have to walk the streets to get it either. I just found a new… investment, and it pays really well.” I didn’t like her pause and nonchalant tone she was speaking with, I could tell she was hiding the truth, or at least part of it.

“Yes, I can see. How much did that new purse cost you, it looks expensive, what brand is that? Kate Spade?” I said in a sarcastic tone.

“Well fine, if you’re gonna be that way then I won’t let you in on it…” she teased.

“Im sorry, keep going.”

 My attitude completely changed at the prospect of making as much money as she clearly had recently. She laughed at my sudden change in demeanor and began to explain.

You… directly donate blood to specific individuals who are… in need, sort of like a transfusion, through a private company. Their clients and the company are very private and secretive, they highly value your discretion and expect you to keep all knowledge that you may learn to yourself. That’s one of the reasons why they pay so much. You must sign a contract as well. They offer one time donation contracts and also 1 year contracts. A onetime donation pays 1000 dollars and a year contract will pay you up to 5000 dollars depending on how many times a year you donate. They also include healthcare in their contracts and, let’s just say, some people form a relationships with their Donee. I’ve been donating for a few months now to the same person. The thing is, their method of donating is a bit unorthodox, and it may freak you out at first but, trust me, you’ll be safe the whole time. Since I’m under a… contract, I can’t actually tell you how they donate but you’ll find out soon…

After she explained and convinced me that nothing was illegal or dangerous, I reluctantly agreed to try donating, she called someone and a few minutes later, I was added to the list of donors for tonight’s session that she was attending. She then spent the rest of the day prepping us both for tonight; showering, shaving, plucking, exfoliating, conditioning, the whole nine yards. She did my hair and makeup and put together as sexy of an outfit that I’d allow, answering all my protests with,

“Trust me, you’ll want to look good for whomever you get as a Donee. Absolutely every client there looks like they just stepped out of a movie, they’re so attractive.”

I had to admit, I looked pretty good, less like a tired college student and more like an extra from the movie Underworld. My hair was half pinned up and the rest floated around my bare shoulders in soft wavy curls. My eye makeup was minimal but accentuated the shape with a slightly darker color in the crease, elongated, winged eyeliner, and lots of mascara. My foundation had a light, radiant finish and Jazmin had sculpted my face slightly with contour and highlight. She had finished me with a red toned berry liquid lip stain and very shiny clear gloss that made me look like I had just bit into a fresh pomegranate.

My outfit was comprised of a tight, black corset that I had used for a Halloween costume one year, black leather pants that I bought but never wore, and black high-heeled leather ankle boots. I looked at myself in the mirror and couldn’t help feel a bit like a piece of meat on display. Skintight everything and bare shoulders and clavicle exposed. I shivered from the slight cold that seeped in through the walls and grabbed a long black cardigan that had silver accents and faux fur trim on the neckline and slipped it on, wrapping it around my form despite Jazmin’s protests. My dark ensemble was the complete opposite to her baby pink dress and white kitten heels.

“I like wearing black so I’m not complaining, but why am I so dark and you’re so… pink?” I asked.

“Well, Jin likes pink, and I like Jin…” she trailed off, a devilish grin on her pink sparkly lips. “Jin is the one that I donate to exclusively now.”

“You make it sound like it’s a sexual experience.” I said, warily. She turned to me and carefully chose her next words.

“(Y/N), I’m not gonna lie, Jin and I do have sex. The donation process is very… intimate, I mean, you’re giving someone your life source to help them right? You get to know them and it creates a bond. Who knows, you might get some tonight too, if you want.”

“Uh, NO, I do NOT want that!” I exclaimed.

“Okay, okay, just tell them that, it’s not a big deal, they won’t force you.” She laughed as we left my apartment, finally making our way to our destination as the sun began to set slowly on the horizon, mixing colors of burnt orange, purple, and blood red into the rapidly fading blue.

To say that I was nervous and skeptical was definitely and understatement. What did she mean by unorthodox? Why did it seem like they were hiding their private business from people? Question filled my mind as I tightened my Heavy coat around my middle and we walked up to an unassuming door that held a small square mirror at face level. No, not a mirror, two way glass. Jazmin pressed a button on a voice-box attached to the side of the building and spoke into it.


“Hi, this is Jazmin, and this is (Y/F/L/N). She should be on the list with me as a new donor.”

She released the button and a second passed before a buzz sounded and the door clicked open, a handsome gentleman held the door open for us to pass through. I curiously glanced at him as we passed. He was tall and had white, fluffy hair, a cut in one eyebrow and silver hoops in in the ear on the same side. I couldn’t see his eyes since they were covered with a pair of shiny, black, square cut sunglasses even though it was nighttime. His black suit gave him a slight Men In Black feel and I couldn’t help but crack a small smile at the image in my head. However, my smile faded when he returned one and I swear I saw a flash of very sharp looking canines before his face returned to its neutral state. Jazmin’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts and I turned to her as she spoke to me.

“I’ll take you to Seulgi’s office so you can get your paperwork out of the way. She’ll explain what I’m not allowed to and you’ll sign a confidentiality agreement and a contract with her and then they’ll match you with a Donee. It should all go by pretty fast if you cooperate and don’t freak out.”

I had been too busy studying the hall we walked down to notice her choice of words at first. It was definitely luxurious, marble flooring, with clean white walls and black accents. The ceiling held ornate crystal chandeliers every 20 feet or so that sent sparkling reflections on the walls. The wide hallway echoed slightly and brought Jazmin’s final words back to me.

“…don’t freak out…”

My feet stopped following her as I said,

“What do you mean ‘freak out’? Why would I freak out!? Jazmin, tell me what’s going on!”

The panic in my voice was doubled by the echoing walls and I’m sure anyone behind the many doors lining the hall could hear me.

“(Y/N), calm down. It’s okay, shh.”

She held my hand and tried to comfort me in a soothing voice. The scene reminded me of how a child tries to call to a cat in a comforting tone right before they capture it. I was the cat in this situation. Before Jazmin could continue, a door to my right opened and out stepped a very pretty girl with dark hair and monolid eyes. Something about the way she stared straight into my eyes without any shame both terrified and entranced me and I found that I wasn’t breathing. She spoke and it felt like her voice was warm honey seeping into my skin and making my limbs heavy and languid.

“Hello (Y/N), you’re here to donate your blood for people who can’t survive without it, for Vampyres.”

As her last words left her mouth, her face split into a calculating smile, showing her teeth as she did so as her canines dropped down and elongated into sharp, white points.

Some even believe we are part of a secret cabal working against the best interests of the United States, characterizing my family and me as ‘internationalists’ and of conspiring with others around the world to build a more integrated global political and economic structure-one world, if you will. If that’s the charge, I stand guilty, and I am proud of it. We are on the verge of a global transformation. All we need is the right major crisis, and the nations will accept the New World Order.
—  David Rockefeller
what amortentia smells like to the zodiac signs
  • aries: freshly cut grass, sandalwood, pine trees
  • taurus: baking bread, clean linens, rose petals
  • gemini: wood fire, wet ink, spices
  • cancer: wool blankets, hot cocoa, apples
  • leo: sunscreen, pancakes upon waking, bright clean mornings
  • virgo: old books, sweet cloves, rain
  • libra: vanilla, chocolate, forest air
  • scorpio: new dollar bills, sun-warmed rocks, expensive cologne
  • sagittarius: daffodils, espresso, artificial watermelon
  • capricorn: turned earth, new pencils, strong tea
  • aquarius: new paper, cinnamon, maple syrup
  • pisces: black coffee, hair dye, popcorn

Hayley A Silverman
Crude Currencies Singular (the real price of everything/what everything really costs/ to whom wants to acquire it/ the toil and trouble of acquiring it/ what everything is really worth/ to whom has acquired it/ and wants to dispose of it/ or exchange it/ for something else/ the toil and trouble which it can save/ which it can impose upon other people), 2015
Coin currencies (Chinese, Greek, Swedish, Canadian, Israeli, Russian,…), energy currencies (lumps of metal, rice, spices, bee pollen, berries), resin
each 3 17/20 × 3 17/20 inches

The Walking Dead  (Tony Stark x reader)

Request from @time-lords-in-the-impala

Hi sorry could you do one where the reader is the “mother hen” of the avengers (reader has powers) and Tony is sick and she tries to take care of him but he’s all stubborn and says stuff like “I’m fiinee I’m not sick I need to work Y/N” and after a heated argument Tony confesses his love and she’s like “k but get better and you’ll get your kiss” and Clint gives Nat $20 because “Oh shit I thought she would make the first move” Sorry it’s so long I love your writing thank you 🙏 bye              

Hope it turned out okay, love!!  

“What the hell is that? It sounds like someone’s choking a seal.”

“We think Stark may be dying,” Clint snickered,  “We’re not sure yet, but there’ve been unnatural sounds coming out of that lab all day.”  

You peeked your head out the kitchen to look towards the lab, but the room was darkened so that you could just barely make out Tony’s silhouette hunched over the table.  “Has anyone gone up there to check on him?”

“Be our guest,” he said, throwing a box of Kleenex at you as you exited.  “but if you let loose whatever bug is incubating in there, and the dead start walking the Earth, I’m using you as a shield.”  

“Your empathy is truly inspiring, Barton.”


“Tony?”  You waited a few seconds, but there was no reply. “Tony?  I know you’re in there.  Can I come in?”

A loud and harsh cough echoed through the room on the other side of the door, followed by the sound of feet being dragged towards you.  The door opened slightly so that Tony could see you, but not so much that you could enter.

“What, (Y/N)?”

“Are you okay?  You sound terrible, and I’m a little worried.”

He coughed a few more times and turned to shut the door, but you pushed your foot in front of it to stop him.  “Hey, I’m fine, alright?  Now take your foot off the door so I can get back to work.”

You reached up and put your hand on his forehead, shaking your head in frustration at what you felt. “Tony, seriously, you have a fever. You should be in bed, resting. What is so important that it can’t wait a couple of days?”

“It’s a revision of…I’m altering…” he shook his head and rubbed his cheek, irritated at being sick and even more so that you weren’t listening.  “I’m thinking it’s not your concern.”  He coughed again, but this time it was harsh enough to make him struggle to catch his breath.

“Alright, sit down, dammit.” You pushed him back into a nearby chair and put the palm of your hand against the center of his chest.  You could feel his lungs expanding and contracting with each breath beneath your hand, his effort easing and his cough subsiding as you concentrated your healing powers on him.

“I didn’t ask you to do that.”

You pulled your hand back and stared at him skeptically; was he really going to be too proud to accept help? Or was it just stubbornness, or more likely, overblown ego?  “I know you didn’t ask, Tony.  But we can’t listen to you like that anymore.  If you can’t take care of yourself, then I’m happy to step in.”

“Tell you what,” he continued, “next time wait until I ask.  Now let me get back to work, alright mom?”

Your head snapped in his direction, and your posture stiffened, “excuse me?”

“I said,” he stepped up toe-to toe with you, puffing his chest with attitude, “alright, mom?”  

Your eyes narrowed as you stared at him, disbelieving that he was having such a temper tantrum over this. If anything, you had made it easier for him to work now, but it would be impossible to get a thank you from him with all of this attitude oozing out of him.

“You’re such an asshole, Stark.”  You turned on your heel and walked away, but you felt his eyes follow you until you were out of sight.  He sighed and threw the tool he had been holding across the room, shattering a table full of equipment in his anger.  

“Sir, how might I be of assistance?”

“JARVIS, I think…I think maybe we should shut it down for the night.”


The next morning you wanted nothing to do with Tony, and did your best to avoid him, even heading to the kitchen late for breakfast, hoping he would have himself locked away in the lab. You were trying to give him the benefit of the doubt that his rotten attitude was because he was sick, so it was probably best to let him be.

“Morning, (Y/N), you’re a little late today, aren’t you?”

“Hey, Cap,” you said with a small yawn, “yeah, trying to avoid any early morning conflicts, if you know what I mean.”

Steve handed you a cup of orange juice and you returned the gesture with a look of curiosity.  “Are we out of coffee again?”  This was not the best day to miss out on your shot of caffeine.  “Wait, was it my turn…yep, it was my turn to pick that up.  Sorry, I’ll run out and get extra to make up for it.”  You pulled the refrigerator open and grabbed a can of Coke, taking it down within a matter of minutes.

“Desperate?”  Steve said with a laugh as he leaned against the counter, watching you.

“I didn’t sleep well last night, so yeah.  Just a bit.” You tossed the empty can to him, giggling as he caught it and crushed it with an exuberant flair of unnecessary strength.

“Morning, kids.”

The jovial moment was quickly over when Tony entered the room, your demeanor changing to guarded with lightening speed.  “Stark.”

Steve looked at you, mouthing silently to you, “I’m gonna go” and pointing towards the exit.  You shook your head to try to stop him, but he obviously wanted to get out of the situation as fast as possible. “Chicken,” you mumbled under your breath.

“You look like hell, Tony. I know it’s none of my business, but just saying.  Don’t get us sick.”  You grabbed another can of soda and were about to leave when he finally replied.

“I’m sorry about yesterday. I’m sorry I called you mom.”  He cleared his throat a bit, his voice quiet and refusing to look at you.  “You’re right, I’m an asshole.”

You were still mad, and you didn’t want to let him off the hook that easily.  His bad behavior needed to be called out, and you felt a personal responsibility to be the one to do it.  You were playing with fire, but you didn’t realize how hot it was going to get.  “I accept your apology, Tony, but you do this all the time.  You fly off the handle then ask for forgiveness later.  It’s exhausting.”

“But it’s because-“

“Don’t give me the excuse that you’re sick.”  You raised your hand to stop him, “people get sick all the time and it doesn’t excuse bad behavior.”

“If you’d shut up for just a damn minute, I would be able to explain it to you.”  He finally turned to look at you, and his face was becoming more red with each word.

You slammed your soda can on the counter and marched over to him, poking his arm roughly with each word. “If I would shut up for a minute?  You seem to have underestimated me, Tony.  Don’t mistake my tendency to care about you…about this team, as a weakness.” You grabbed his wrist and twisted his arm behind his back, spinning him to push him face first into the wall. “And don’t ever, ever, talk to me like that.”

“Hot,” he mumbled, breaking your grip on his wrist and spinning you to take his place against the wall, facing him as he held your arm securely behind you.  “Like I was saying, (Y/N), if you would let me finish, I would have told you that I’m a mess.  Not because I was sick, but because I’ve fallen in love with you and I don’t know what to do about it.”

“Oh,” you sighed, completely taken aback.

“Yeah, oh,” he said breathlessly, reacting to the close proximity to you.  “Is there anything else you’d like to say before I continue?”

“Continue?  Continue with wha-“  Your words were interrupted by his kiss, still holding you tightly against the wall with an almost crushing force.  The moment was interrupted by the sound of a slap and the clearing of a throat.

Clint and Natasha were standing in the doorway, Nat holding a crisp, new twenty-dollar bill. “Dammit, (Y/N), I thought you’d break first,” Clint scoffed.  “Guess we’re all learning to not underestimate you today.”

In my dream last night I was at an aquarium and there were a LOT of seals there and they were getting loaded into their tank and I was standing on a bridge trying to protect the children (from something?) But anyway Obama came up to me and told me I was doing such a wonderful job at music school and at oboe and for protecting the children so he gave me The New Hundred Dollar Bill which had his face on it and I said thanks bro that means a lot and I hugged Obama good bye cuz he had to get back to being the most important person in the world

abstract things that remind me of each type

ENFP: kaleidoscopes, sun showers, an unexpected crack of thunder, hummingbirds, fields of wild flowers, laughing until you cry, singing in the shower, crossroads

ENFJ: jingle bells, sun beams peaking through the clouds on a gloomy day, cherry blossoms, cocktail parties, a hug after years of separation, when the clock strikes twelve on new years eve, good conversation with unlikely strangers

ENTP: the noise of a keyboard, grass stains on blue jeans, bruises with unknown origins, abandoned buildings overgrown with vines, a cracked but intact mirror, messages in the sand washed away by the incoming tide

ENTJ: the clicking of a pen, blue prints, piggy banks that counts the change as you put it in, a new dollar bill, the noise heels make on a tile floor, Kubrick stares, the ticking of a clock

ESTJ: icicles, cobblestone streets, smudged ink on a freshly printed paper, encyclopedias, maps of the old world, sand storms, waking up feeling fully rested, owls, complex algebra equations

ESFJ: the smell of freshly mowed grass, sun flowers, daisies, ducklings following their mother across a street, a lioness grooming her cubs, nursery rhymes, xylophones, the shade under a large tree on a hot sunny day

ESTP: the roar of a crowd at a sporting event, midnight drives to the beach, contagious laughter, jumping from a diving board, a cup of coffee to sober you up, the last drag of a cigarette

ESFP: carnivals, firework shows, standing up in a limo with a sunroof while driving through a city at night, opening a bottle of champagne, freckles, making wishes on dandelions, blowing out birthday candles

INFP: wind chimes, dream catchers, shooting stars, a baby giggling, throwing the bouquet at a wedding, diaries that require a key to open, heart shaped lockets with photos of loved ones, the crunch of autumn leaves as you walk home

ISFP: bullet proof vests, skipping stones on a still pond, gold fish, cat naps, teddy bears, overalls, mistletoe, pinky promises, postcards, stepping in puddles, avoiding cracks in the pavement

INTP: a shot of tequila, shell casings hitting the ground, debates, a gabble, the scales of justice, rain after a drought, horse races, having twenty tabs open at once on your browser

INFJ: zen gardens, Hershey’s kisses, family dinners, burnt toast, moss on old stone walls, dream journals, long distance phone calls, embroidered pillows, warm clothes right out of the dryer

INTJ: knowing not only your lines but everyones for a play you have a minor part in, personal schedules, chess games in the park, black and white movies, snow forts, holding your breath underwater as long as you can

ISFJ: friendship bracelets, a date at the drive-in theatre, cloud watching, swinging in sync with the person next to you, late night subway rides, running through cornfields

ISTJ: chalk on a black board, the smell of sharpies, long solitary runs, alarm clocks, neatly hung clothes, the sound of the ocean in a conch shell, a bee dancing around a beautiful flower, a cat purring

ISTP: screaming into a pillow, rosy cheeks after a stroll in the cold, when you touch a tree and are left with sap on your finger tips and palm, acoustic guitar, cannonballing into an empty pool

Kiss Kiss Fall in


by insominiacarrest, @lapidot-week-2016

prompt: free day for lapidot week

genre: humor, crossover

summary: an incredibly silly idea of a Steven Universe Ouran High school Host club cross over. So here it is. Lapis is a poor scholarship student who breaks an expensive vase for a host club and has heck to pay.

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April 15th 1865: Abraham Lincoln dies

On this day in 1865, after being shot the previous day, U.S. President Abraham Lincoln died aged 56. Lincoln’s election in 1860 on an antislavery platform prompted the Southern slaveholding states to secede from the Union. The new President led the Union during the subsequent American Civil War, and furthered the abolition of slavery by issuing his Emancipation Proclamation and encouraging the passage of the Thirteenth Amendment. Almost a week after the Confederacy’s surrender to Union forces at Appomattox, Confederate sympathiser John Wilkes Booth shot the President while he was attending a performance of ‘Our American Cousin’ at Ford’s Theatre in Washington D.C. Booth shot Lincoln in the head at point blank range, and the injured President was immediately taken across the street to Petersen House. However, the wound was clearly fatal and after a nine hour coma, Lincoln died at 7.22am on April 15th. When he was shot, the President was carrying in his pockets a pocket knife, a watch fob, a handkerchief, a wallet, spectacles, newspaper clippings, and, interestingly a new Confederate five-dollar bill; Lincoln’s face now appears on the five-dollar bill. Upon Lincoln’s death, Vice President Andrew Johnson was swiftly sworn in as seventeenth President of the United States. Booth was soon tracked down and killed, while Lincoln was widely mourned in the North as the steadfast leader who had seen the nation through its bloodiest war. The nation’s sadness was coupled with shock in the wake of the first presidential assassination; three of Lincoln’s successors would meet the same fate.

“Now he belongs to the ages.”
- Secretary of War Edwin Stanton after Lincoln’s death