[title] History

[pairing] 1940′s!Bucky x Reader

[plot] AU in which Bucky makes it home to his girl after the war.

[warnings] language, mentions of the war

[a/n] i didn’t edit this so if there’s errors just pretend like they don’t exist.

Originally posted by imaginingbucky

[y/n] pulled her coat tightly around her, seeking relief from the cold September air. She chewed on the inside of her cheek, her eyes focused on a single crack on the concrete. Nervousness flooded her veins and occupied her entire being and he was all she thought of. Bucky, Bucky, Bucky.

She hadn’t received any news or a letter announcing the death of James Barnes, but news travels slowly and it seemed like she was always the last to know news about Bucky while he’s been away.

Blood pounded through [y/n]’s ears and all she could hear was the dramatic pounding of her pulse as the worst case scenario fluttered through her mind. So she didn’t hear the approaching train, she didn’t hear the excited squeals of the women beside her waiting for their lovers and the giggles of the children, ecstatic to see their fathers again. It was only when a woman pushed past her to get a better look at the grinning men, sticking their heads out of the train’s windows, in hopes to spot their families or just to feel the patriotic buzz that the breeze carried in 1945, that she glanced up.

Her eyes shot up as all of her senses stung her at once. The train, the cheering, the rugged, but joyful soldiers. Her eyes darted across the train windows, hoping to spot Bucky early to put an end to all of this stress. She checked once, twice, three times. Nothing. She let out an uneven breath as she tightened her grip on her coat, needing to hold onto something.

And then all the soldiers begin to pile off of the train and something rises in [y/n]’s stomach and she thinks that she’s going to throw up because she watched them all flood onto the platform and she checked every goddamn face one by one as the relieved soldiers were welcomed home and none of them were him. Him. The man that had pined after her for years before she said yes, the man that treated her like she was a fucking angel on earth, the man that had promised her a wedding proposal if he ever made it back.

(His exact words were “when I make it back”, but [y/n] knew damn well that the correct word was “if”.)

It took almost a half hour to get everyone off, but it felt like decades to [y/n]. And when no more soldiers were wrestling to get off the train, [y/n] had yet to see Bucky’s homecoming.

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“What if you could meet your soul mate?” the ghost asked. “You ’d want to avoid that?”
“Hell, yes. The idea that there’s one soul out there, waiting to merge with mine like some data-sharing program, depresses the hell out of me.”
“It’s not like that. It’s not about losing yourself.”
“Then what is it?” Alex was only half listening, still occupied with the viselike tightness of his chest.
“It’s like your whole life you ’ve been falling toward the earth, until the moment someone catches you. And you realise that somehow you ’ve caught her at the same time. And together, instead of falling, you might be able to fly.”
(Lisa Kleypas, Dream Lake)


He is half-way through the automatic gesture—taking the cup—when the phrasing dawns on both of them and John freezes, his fingertips touching Sherlock’s around the ceramic circumference that is suddenly, maddeningly, too small. John doesn’t ever think of this; the uncanny ability they usually have, despite years of occupying the same cramped spaces, to avoid touching. John doesn’t ever think of this; his own uncanny ability to remember, acutely and without trying, every single time that they actually have: The average human memory is only sixty-two percent accurate on recall are you alright punch me in the face we’re going to need to cooperate let me by he’s my friend.

There’s nothing for it; you’ll need to learn how to dance.

To the best of times, John.

from Within the Narrative by Dale Pike

I’m still thinking about the idea from yesterday.

Laurent gets Damen to take him to Damen’s rooms. The rooms aren’t ones Laurent recognizes. He supposes Theomedes is still occupying the king’s chambers in Ios. They’re alone. Laurent has no idea what he is trying to do here, but Damen seems to expect him to say something. To offer some kind of explanation why he has shown up as a new slave and begged Damen to take him to his rooms.

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Pulling the plug on Democratic Party is the most appropriate decision we could make since they decided to continue with corrupt politics as usual by selecting Tom Perez as chairman of the DNC.


Note: Thanks to @skittle479 for the assist.

10:45 … Sonny was almost four hours late. You weren’t worried, though, his job often kept him on an unpredictable schedule. There was a cost to dating a cop, but Sonny was worth it.

He was supposed to come over after work, at 7. Sonny often forgot to call you when his work ran late, so you tried to occupy yourself while you waited. Staying busy kept you from worrying.

At 10:50 you heard the front door opening and saw Sonny making his way in, having exchanged keys to your respective apartments after half a year of dating.

Swiftly, you made your way over to Sonny and wrapped your arms around his waist. It felt like you were made for each other.

“You finally made it,” you smiled into his chest. “How was work?”

“Barba has been biting his nails about a rape in the park from last month, he’s been making us go over our testimonies again and again.” Sonny chuckled as he placed a quick kiss on your forehead, still in the process of taking off his outerwear.

“No wonder you stayed late, then, you’ve been wanting to stay on Barba’s good side.” You’d met the members of Sonny’s squad only briefly, but from the way Sonny talked about them, you felt like you knew them intimately.

“Oh, he actually didn’t, he finished with me hours ago. Jesse’s babysitter had to leave early, and ‘Manda was still with Barba, so I volunteered to watch after Jesse until Barba was finished prepping Amanda.”

Abruptly, you pulled yourself out of his embrace.

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anonymous asked:

Could you maybe... I know this is a lot to ask, but explain the plot of Red vs. Blue? I want to get in the fandom but it's so much to watch... I'm only on the end of the first season! I would love you 5 ever :)

Heck yeah!  

I’m gonna try to keep this as non-spoilery as possible, but some things I sort of have to reveal.  

The first five seasons are known as the Blood Gulch Chronicles because they all (mostly) take place while the Reds and Blues are in Blood Gulch.  @eponymous-rose described them as “humor with a chance of plot” which is pretty spot on in my opinion.  (The first season is the hardest, trust me.  Trust me.)  

Wikipedia is my best friend and helped me start this with: “Red vs. Blue centers on the Red and Blue Teams, two groups of soldiers engaged in a supposed civil war. Originally, each team occupies a small base in a box canyon known as Blood Gulch. According to Simmons, one of the Red Team soldiers, each team’s base exists only in response to the other team’s base. It is later revealed that there is no actual civil war; both the Red and Blue armies are under the same command, Project Freelancer, and only exist as training simulations for Freelancer Agents. Although both teams generally dislike each other and have standing orders to defeat their opponents and capture their flag, neither team is usually motivated to fight the other (except for Sarge, the head of Red Team).”  

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a mass letter to the people who have written to me (evangelines guardian angel)

the cheeseball who write to her goofball,

honestly, youre right. i was damn near obsessed with her, if i wasnt. she occupied my mind every second of every day, and i hated it but loved it at the same time.

sometimes, we arent able to see it ourselves when the other person is toxic, or when we are toxic for each other. im glad i caught it before i was killed internally.

thank you for caring, and for writing.

the stranger who offered to be my friend,

thank you, very much. however, i feel as though i need to decline the offer. not because i dont want to, but simply because i have friendships that have been damaged due to my drinking, and im trying to reconcile. as a result, i just dont have the energy or time to form a new friendship. i’d rather stick with what i have.

i never had many friends, but thats okay. i’m completely content with my very small circle.

thank you so much for the offer, though. i wish i could’ve said yes; if only the circumstances were different.

to a muffin

thank you.

im sure youve already seen, but i’ve broken away from her. actually, right after i finish this response to those who wrote to me, im going to write to her again.

thanks for saying that im a good guy, but i’m not.

i was not the best guy to know. before evangeline, i was actually a text-book, grade-A asshole. i treated people like shit, i destroyed confidences, i used girls, and the list goes on. it wasnt until college, when i realized that this shit wont fly anymore, that i actually got shocked. evangeline was the shock i needed to make me change. or, at least try to change.

she made me a bit of a better person. ironically, shes the karma i deserved. im hardly a sweetheart. im only a sweetheart towards her. she bring it out of me.

who knows, maybe the next girl i date will bring it out of me. maybe she wont. maybe evangeline will be forgotten in the years become (who am i kidding, she never will be). all i know is that i need a lot of change within me to be considered a good person.

but i’m working on it.

to everyone who has read my letters on here, written to me, reposted me, or commented on my letters

i try to reach everyone who writes me. i dont track my letters when theyre posted, honestly. i just check on here to read other letters and to see if anyone had written to me.

anyone who has commented on anything of mine, thank you. i honestly probably havent read some (or most of them), but you cared enough to comment.

i never wrote these letters to gain a sort of following, or to get attention from anyone, really. i wrote them the same reason others write them: to get things off their chest and not feel as though the world is weighing down on them.

i never wrote these letters to have people write to me, to worry others, or to get “popular” in some way.

im honestly surprised to see how often people write to me.

if i dont respond to your letter, just know that im not ignoring you. the letter simply got lost, or ive forgotten about it due to the many implications in my life like work or school. i try not to ignore. i try to respond to everyone.

and thank you, again. for reading and writing, and continuing to read my letters.

to emily, the creator of this blog,

you’ve done extremely well with creating a family-like community in this blog.

keep it up. youre going places.

to everyone,

i feel some introductions are needed.

hi. i’m isaac. but dont worry, ill still most likely tag my letters as “guardian angel”.

im addicted to a drug, and her name is evangeline. i’m getting help, though. i’ll get better.

never worry about me.

-the guy who swore to be evangelines guardian angel.

don’t befriend a writer.
we live with pen in the left hand
and chin in the right,
one ear cocked toward the conversation
on the other side of the room,
too occupied with mining moments for metaphor
to ever be more than half-present.

don’t get to know a writer.
we will pack away your sadness in pieces,
your rage, the way you look
upon waking. wrap up your late-night observations
and drunken confessions
all careful in reams of tissue paper
to take out and rifle through
when it suits us.

don’t give us anything, we who are
opportunists at best. we’ve taught ourselves
to dress miles so they look like inches,
to assemble meals from crumbs,
sate ourselves on scraps.
we are, all of us, self-taught in the art
of nursing watered-down cocktails
while we push rounds on trusting friends.
always editing ourselves to read more cleanly.
selves styled by taking piecemeal
from those in arm’s reach;
the skill of stepping lightly
honed by the continuous commission of theft,
easy as breathing:
it’s second nature to trick sensors
out of recognizing that something valuable
is missing.
we pass over beg and borrow
and head right for steal,
every time.

don’t love a writer.
we don’t know how to love you
without pushing pins into your sternum,
trapping you under glass and glaring bright light.
we don’t know love without ugly,
without graveyard shift,
digging into earth in the dark of night
until hands are bloodied,
stones scraping skin and fingernails bending painfully back.
we don’t know love absent bargaining,
one for you and two for me.

don’t waste time on a writer.
all we know is transform
we are, all of us,
wolves outfitted as sheep
foxes in the henhouse.
offer us nothing essential:
neither artery nor lung,
no organ but skin.
if you must, offer us only your arm
and leave space enough for a tourniquet.
be willing to give only
what you know you can afford to lose
and do not doubt for a second
that you will lose it.
don’t let yourself dare hope
that you’re the exception -
you’re not.
don’t permit yourself the luxury
of the illusion
that the predator might, just once,
take a break from the hunt.
don’t expect a wild thing
to rise above its baser instincts.

don’t love a writer.

Michelle Hodkin answers readers questions

(may or may not contain spoilers)

Q: When does TSC take place? Are they in college or is it before that? 

Michelle: The first book in The Shaw Confessions picks up not long after the end of The Retribution of Mara Dyer—before what would’ve been the beginning of Noah and Mara’s senior year of HS (spoiler alert: they’re otherwise occupied). 

Q: Is the new book called The Becoming of Noah Shaw? It appeared in Goodreads. Is it coming on November 7?

Michelle: Good questions that I wish I could answer! I’m not being coy–I honestly don’t know. I tend to end up working on my books right up until the moment they’re on shelves–this is terrible, by the way, and I don’t recommend it, and so everything else is in the publisher’s hands. When I know anything for sure, I’ll try and share it as soon as I can.

Q: What kind of state is mara and noah’s relationship in? Will TSC have the same level of maturity that the mara dyer series did?

Michelle: I’m not sure if I’m getting your question right, but I will say that in some ways TSC is a more mature book (thematically, at least—Noah has a history of suicidal ideation and I tried to do his experience justice by exploring that as deeply and meaningfully as possible given my own history with depression). On the other hand, Noah’s not quite as developed as Mara is, emotionally. She’s experienced so many things that he hasn’t, and the trilogy leaves her in a radically different place from where she started, but Noah wasn’t on the same ride. He’s going to realise that he has to go back before he can move forward. 

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This weekend. Cousins baby shower, part of our gift was a bby solo cup, Haha! Also shown: someone else’s amazing wild things gift box; gift bingo to keep everyone occupied- watching ppl open gifts is the absolute worst, so that was a great idea! My baby shower bloody mary; thrifted Icelandic sweater; Fog from the awful warm weather- our flower beds are starting to bloom. Not good. Porch hangs with Truman Burbank; Avocado eggs benedict & vegetarian pho.

I’m laying here, listening to the sounds of the creatures that dwell inside my house

The not so subtle meows of the cat with a stumpy tail

The snoring of the dog with a underbite

The stumbling of the dog with three legs

Even though you’re not here, for once, I’m at peace

What happened inside of me that caused me to snap out of it?

Yet the space that you could be occupying remains empty so I just let my mind wander till the day it can be filled again

If it ever is.

Day 1342 - Hers Anonymous — “My most precious memory is the time I’ve spent with my mother Jane on Sanibel Island. It was the first time in my life that I was introduced to the magnificence of nature. I was around 10 at that time and my mom took the whole day to explore all the different kinds of shells occupying the beach. They were so full of magic and color that it simply took my breath away. Thanks mom.

@blackblocberniebros, while analysis of the police in the US tends to focus on their role in enforcing Jim Crow policies or whatever we can disregard these by noting that monoethnic societies still tend to have police.

The second accusation is that police exist to break strikes and crack skulls of anarchists and union agitators, but clearly that only occupies a relatively small fraction of their time, even if it is an important function for the powers that be.

In developed nations police spend a lot of time on traffic control, which I think we can disregard as something that will hopefully be less necessary in a future dominated by mass transit and self-driving cars.

An important role is ad hoc adjudication of disputes, something that would need to be provided by another system if “police” as they exist today were abolished.

title: One-Ply Promises

rating: t

pairing: Natsu Dragneel/Lucy Heartfilia

summary: Of all of the stupid shit Lucy has done while drunk, entering a contract with a demon probably takes the cake. The icing on said cake, however, is the fact that neither of the two know what the terms of the contract are. Until they figure it out, Lucy is stuck living with a demon who doesn’t really understand the concept of keeping a low profile.

chapter two: Hypotheticals

Prev: i, ii

ffn link

The only good thing to have come from Natsu moving in with her is the fact that Lucy has rediscovered her love for the library. Spacious, quiet, and with secluded corners perfect for studying and accidentally falling asleep in.

“This is starting to get unhealthy,” Juvia comments one day. “Have you considered asking Natsu to find someplace else to sleep?”

Lucy pulls her fluffy blanket over her head and sinks into the beanbag she has occupied for the past two nights. “Yeah, that would tide over well. Where the hell is a…uh…you-know-what supposed to find a house? He has horns, Juvia. And weird scales. And pink hair. Very not normal things that are going to draw in attention. We don’t need attention. We need, like, God.”

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anonymous asked:

what stories are u going to post soon? 😊😊

I’m working on a part two of All or Nothing it’s just slow going cause works been busy and I’ve got Twenty One Pilots tomorrow so my brain has been otherwise occupied. I’m sorry guys it’s coming soon I promise. 💕💕💕


Monday’s love affair //

The aching illusion my tiresome eyes wake up to, another day we are told to despise. Monday, I love you at your worst because I’m aware that you kill off the potential of being great. I greet the kids I work with, with open arms and a wide-eyed smile never have I felt that my placement in time has been greatly arriving. After my first shift has ended my sister and I get coffee at Starbucks (surprise surprise)… caffeinated thoughts occupy the table and once again I feel a sense of peace with my mornings and I’m left with a blissful cup of coffee and no better company.

BUFFETT: Wells Fargo's accounts scandal was 'a huge mistake'

(A pipe wrench is embedded in the window of a Wells Fargo bank after an Occupy protester smashed it during a May Day demonstration on May 1, 2012 in Oakland, California.Justin Sullivan/Getty Images)
Warren Buffett expressed his disappointment with the fake accounts scandal at Wells Fargo during an interview on Monday morning.

Buffett, who owns roughly 10% of the bank, did not bring up the bank’s scandal in his annual letter released on Saturday, but told CNBC’s Becky Quick that he thought the scandal was handled poorly.

Buffett noted that the incentive plans that led some retail employees to open up to 2 million accounts under customers’ names without their knowledge were not the problem, but rather the way executives responded when they found out about the account openings.

“A huge mistake was made at Wells,” said Buffett. “Not in cooking up the incentive plans — cross selling is fine, I mean, you want to have incentives for people to do it — but you don’t want to have it lead to crazy behavior, which it did.”

Buffett had previously been silent about the scandal, saying in September that he did not want to comment until after the election.

The legendary investor also criticized former CEO John Stumpf, who stepped down following the scandal and two hearings in front of Congress.

“John Stumpf is a perfectly decent guy in my opinion,” Buffett told CNBC. “I’d have him as a trustee in my will and I wouldn’t worry for a second. But somehow, when he saw the evidence, he didn’t do something about it. Now, maybe he thought somebody else was going to do something about it.”

Additionally, the relatively small fine total — regulators punished Wells with a $185 million fine — shouldn’t be an indicator that the accounts scandal wasn’t serious according to Buffett.

“I think they saw that, wrongly, in the light of $5 billion fine that was put on for mortgage practices at some other banks and $3 billion fines, so they saw the problem as sized by the size of the fine,” said Buffett. “And it wasn’t at all. I mean, any time you have people making up accounts and doing all the things they were doing, it isn’t the size of the fine that measures the customer impact and how your reputation will suffer. It is what you were doing, and it was wrong.”

The bank has seen new account openings crater since the scandal came to light, but the bank has not significantly lost existing customers following the news.

Here are Buffett’s full comments via CNBC:

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This episode for me really highlighted and then in its dramatic finale brought to an extreme the use of perspective that Rebecca Sugar has often talked about during panels. In her rare appearances, we are almost always looking up at Rose Quartz, or she is leaning down and over our POV - be it Pearl kneeling before her hologram in Rose’s Scabbard

or Greg on a number of occasions during the early days of their relationship (We Need To Talk is a really interesting watch with regards to camera angles and how they change - Greg literally climbs a stack of crates during his attempt at communication and, well, seeing eye to eye)

or Garnet after her fateful fall in The Answer

or, hey, Buddy Buddwick collapsed in the desert in Buddy’s Book

She even has magical floating powers. It all fits, of course, with the entire running theme of the (unattainable/unmaintainable) pedestal. And even when she is not directly present, and even when it’s not the focus of the shot, her portrait can be seen overlooking the familiar setting of the beach house.