The first nurse I interview is just OK. She’s fine. I don’t think she’d kill my kid. She’s fine. 

But she’s not great.

Second nurse is very young. She’s fine. But when I tell her I’m looking for someone who’s willing to engage with him, play with him, read to him, take him for walks, she nods and says, “It makes the day go faster when you do that kind of stuff.”

I think about job interviews I had in my mid-20s, in which I gave equally bad answers. I want to take her by the shoulders and tell her, “Oh honey, no, that was your opportunity to say, ‘I love to read to kids!’ or ‘How close is the nearest park?’”

I’m getting concerned about the candidate pool.

But then comes Lyla. Smile creases around her eyes, drawn-on eyebrows, wavy red hair, and a long drawl. 

“How long have you been a nurse?” I ask.

“Oh,” she says, rolling her eyes up to the heavens, trying to do the math, “twenty…four years? I put myself through nursing school after my first six kids were born.”

“Do you have experience with…?” and I ask about all the things: oxygen, g-tube, children with Down syndrome.

“Yes… yes… yes, we have a special needs outreach program at my church,” she says, and looking at Arlo adds, “Well, isn’t he just a doll baby?!”

Why, yes. Yes, he is, I want to say. You’re hired.

Seeing the bookshelf, she continues, “I love to read to children. I have a patient right now, little boy with Cystic Fibrosis, and his parents get him all these mechanical toys, but he loves it when I read to him, so that’s what we do most of the time.”

Fourth nurse is fine. She’s fine. Lots of experience. But I’m not in love with her. I feel OK about it though because Lyla.

And then comes Marlah. Dark skin and a colorful blouse. Worked at both big university hospitals in the area over her career. After 30 years, she retired and now does in-home care part-time. “Can I hold him?” she asks. “He is just a doll.”

And she loves to read to kids.

I call the nursing company and tell them I want to hire Lyla and Marlah.

Perfect, they say. One will do Monday through Wednesday, the other Thursday and Friday, and they’ll be able to cover for each other if they need to be out.


I don’t want to go to work. I spend a lot of time every day not wanting to go to work.


“Hi, may I speak to Craig Parnell?” I say.

“He no longer works here,” replies the government man on the other end of the line, surly. Surlily. What’s the adverb of surly?

“Oh,” I say. My case manager–I’m going to call her Effie, short for Ineffectual, and also eff her–had given me Craig’s name so I could follow up on something I really thought she should be doing, but she was going on vacation, and she didn’t offer that someone else in her office would pick up the ball, so. “Well, maybe you could help me,” I continue. “My son was approved for nursing care through CAP-C. I’m just calling to make sure the CAP codes are in the system.” I give him Arlo’s name and social security number.

“I haven’t received anything from your case management company,” Surly says, in a defiant tone.

My shoulders start scrabbling up my neck. I take a breath. “Nothing?” I say gently. “I was told they’d get the paperwork to you, and the CAP codes would be in a week later. I’m supposed to start work in three days.”

“Well, I don’t know why they told you that,” he says, curbing his rudeness not one iota. “It takes longer than a week.”

Somebody told me that one county over they get this shit done in 24 to 48 hours, but because I’m a Southern Lady, I don’t scream that in his fucking ear. 

I leave a voicemail for the director of my case management company. Hang up; stare at the phone. I dial again and leave a voicemail for some other random case manager, hoping she’ll take pity on me and do her colleague’s job.

Miracle of miracle, she does. She calls back and says the notes indicate paperwork was faxed eight days prior. Clearly Effie didn’t call to confirm that it arrived or she would’ve found out that her contact didn’t even work there anymore. But Pity Manager says she’ll re-fax it and follow up.

I thank her. I feel like the gears are starting to turn. But there’s no way the nurses will be able to start Monday. I call my sister, who’s off for the summer. “You’re on for next week,” I tell her. She’s happy to do it.


Christmas PJs in July. They fit and have snaps to accommodate the feeding tube. Whatever works.


So much frowning and fretting. Pitching internal temper tantrums about going back to work. 

But one long afternoon, as I stand yet again with a crying baby on my hip, another crying baby on the floor, and stare out the living room window, I think, “What if it’s not terrible?”

Being home by myself is lonely. It’s too hot to go outside, and besides, we’re still tethered to the feeding pump, the oxygen tank.

Back in Dialectical Behavior Therapy, one of the skills I learned was Participate. That is, say yes. Wake up, get up, show up, and act as if you care. See what happens. The leader of my group would say, “I like to think of participating as giving yourself the opportunity to be surprised.”

I have little choice about going back to work. Might as well give myself the opportunity to be surprised.


I don’t actually have to be there at 7:15 the first week because it’s teacher workdays, but my goal is to do dry runs until I get the timing right.

At 6:15am, my sister comes by and whisks Arlo away. Barely registers. After all, he’s just going with Auntie Wa. She’s my boys’ second mom.

Dropping Patrick at daycare is another story. It’s not the provider–she seems wonderful. It’s just. I just. 


But after my tearful goodbye, I go to work and get ‘er done. At 2:45, I’m OTD and speeding, a little bit, toward my guys. Patrick looks tired and kind of unsettled. At home, he conks out. My sister brings Arlo back. And we’re all together again.

It’s delicious.

Next day, same thing, except I don’t cry at drop-off. Piece of cake! When I pick him up, the provider tells me Patrick tried to bite another kid. 

Day 3 I’m weepy again. What the hell, man? But I chug through. We chug through. No more attempted bitings. 

On Friday, the provider shows me a video. In it, she puts a toy on her head and pretends to sneeze. The toy goes flying off. Patrick cackles. Repeat. For two minutes. 

We’re gonna be OK.

The students come back, and I get into a familiar groove. Smile. Give clear instructions. Let them make mistakes. If a kid is misbehaving, acknowledge the kid who’s behaving. 

And just like that, I’m doing it. I’m working. It’s not ideal, but it’s not terrible. I miss the boys, which is bittersweet. The afternoon reunion smiles are all the love of the world in a moment.

And the interaction with human beings outside my house is generally refreshing. 

And the assistant principal observes my class and later sends me an email saying that she’s so glad I’m back and that I’m so good at this job. And I am. I can say that without reservation now. Last year, when I was out, sixth grade reading scores dipped. Not psyched for those students, but it’s validating. I make a difference in kids’ lives. 

So yeah, I’m a working single mom, who’s making it work. 

Only problem is I don’t have time to write. Just this, a fortnightly shitty first draft. Maybe in a bit I’ll hit my stride and be able to carve out some bloggy time. 

But maybe this is the end of Baby Happy Pants as we know it.

Or maybe it’s the start of something else. 

I’m going to give myself the opportunity to be surprised.


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“Arin,” Danny’s voice cut into Arin’s concentration on the game.
“Yeah?” He replied, distracted by the new level of castle crashers.
Danny gave a quiet huff of exasperation,“Arin.”
Arin pursed his lips, eyebrows raised,“Yes, darling?”
Danny laughed and shoved his hip with his foot,“Dude,”
Arin spared him a glance and smiled at the sight. Danny was wrapped in a blanket, sock clad toes poking out underneath. His eyes held a softness that Arin always loved and a smile accompanied them, amused and loving. Arin rolled his eyes anyways, gesturing him forwards as he moved on the couch. Danny’s smile only grew as he moved obediently, shifting on the couch and curling up into Arin’s side. The younger man moved his hands and now wraped his arms around Danny, his hands and the controller resting on Dan’s hip. Danny pressed small kisses to Hanson’s neck before falling still again.
“You smell nice,” Dan comments quietly after a moment.
“Dude that’s so gay,” Arin grinned, earning a laugh from his boyfriend.
“You’re an ass,” Dan giggled.
“Yeah well,” Arin chuckled,“You love me,”
“Unfortunately, yes I do,” Dan leaned up and Arin took the hint, turning to catch the kiss he planted. The rest of the afternoon was spent in lazy bliss, videogames, and kisses.

luke is so attractive but not even conventionally, like??? he’s so beautiful, his lil perfect pointy pixie nose is so cute and his eyebrows are shaped so nicely and his eyelashes are thick and fan over his pretty blue eyes. he usually doesn’t smile with teeth (I love his plump lips and oh my god his lip ring) but when he does his teeth are slightly stained at the front but so lovely and straight and his dimples contrasted against the scruff across his jaw look so gorgeous. his hair is this gorgeous dirty blond colour and when he leaves it naturally it curls ever so slightly at the nape of his neck and around his adorable lil square ears?? his shoulders are so broad and his tummy is so cute and his hands are so large and I fall in love with him and his oh so gorgeous self every damn day :-(((

Perfection (Ending 2) | C. Hood Imagine

not requested

Perfection (Part 1)

Perfection (Part 2)

Perfection (Part 3)

Perfection (Ending 1)

this is the happy ending okay


“Calum! Is that you?” Your sister raised her eyebrows in surprise, going up to him and setting her dishes & cleaning supplies down on the table.

“Y/sister’s/name! Hey.” Calum smiled, locking his phone and setting it down. “You work here?”

“Ah, yeah.” She shrugged, loosening her apron a little. “What’re you doing here?”

“Oh, you know. Just thought I would treat myself here.” Calum answered, looking around at the diner.

“Well, I recommend the pork sisig with garlic rice.” Your sister winked at him before laughing a little.

“What about a drink?” He asked.

“The mango shake is my favorite. I’m sure you’ll like it too.” She answered. “And if you do end up ordering it, then I’ll work my ways to give you a discount.”

Calum raised an eyebrow as he tilted his head at your sister. “Why are you doing this?”

Your sister tilted her head too, letting out a soft chuckle. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, why are you being nice to me?” He clarified. “I’m not complaining, but, like, I broke your sister’s heart. You aren’t holding some kind of grudge against me or threatening to cut off my pënis & slap me with it?” He questioned, still kind of not comfortable around her.

“Oh, trust me, I would be.” Your sister reassured him. “… If my sister wasn’t over you.” She added. “You see, if Y/n is hurting, then I take it into my consideration to give the person who cause her to hurt some hell.” She explained. “I can’t do shït if my sister isn’t hurt because of you anymore, you know? It wouldn’t be fair to you, nor her.”

“Well I’m glad to hear that she’s over me. She didn’t exactly take our breakup all too well.” Calum commented.

Your sister only nodded. “You know, you should come to Y/n’s party tomorrow. I bet she’d love to see you again.”

“Oh, really?” Calum’s tone dripped with disbelief. “Y/n Y/last/n, the girl with OCD & social issues is hosting a party tomorrow?”

“Hey,” Your sister held her hands up in defense. “You never know. People can change after a breakup.”

Before Calum could reply, your sister was taking out a pen out of her apron pocket & writing your address on a napkin. “This is where she lives now…” Your sister explained, focused on writing the correct spelling. “Party starts at 5PM.” Your sister concluded, giving the napkin to Calum & then getting up to go back to work. “It’s a potluck too, so don’t forget to bring food.”

“Hi Y/n!” Calum approached you, holding a party-serving of dip that he made last minute.

You could recognize that voice anywhere, even when you were in a room full of talkative friends. You turned around, making eye contact with the guy who thought was perfect (by looks) & those sparkling brown eyes you can’t help but get lost in. “Calum! Oh my gosh, hey!” You greeted him with a hug.

He noticed your healthy face, bright smile, lively eyes, silky hair, and overall optimistic aura.

Calum was proud of you.

“Nice place you got here!” He commented, looking around at your new residence.

“Oh, haha. Yeah.” You smiled, looking around too. “I can’t believe it.” You whispered.

“I’m happy for you, Y/n.” He returned his gaze back on you.

“I am too.” You agreed, nodding your head. “Oh, there’s someone I want yo to meet!” You gasped. “Sweetheart?” You called out.

Soon, another boy approached you & Calum. He stood next to you and gave Calum a small nod & grin. “Hey, I’m Brent.” He introduced himself.

“Calum.” He politely smiled, sticking a hand out for him to shake. Brent took it kindly.

“Calum, this is my fiancé.” You informed him, looking into Brent’s eyes. “He saw something in me that not even I could see.” You whispered, your love for Brent getting even bigger, if that was even possible. “He saw all the flaws that there was contained in me & cared for them, he never left me. All the traits I hated about myself, he loved twice as much.” You were proud to show him off to Calum -and not to make him jealous, but to prove to him that even mental illnesses can be accepted, can still be loved by another.

“How’d you two meet?” Calum asked, always interested to hear a love story -and an inspiring one at that.

“I was her roommate at this mental institution, actually.” Brent admitted. “She was -and still is, the girl of my dreams with the disorder of perfecting everything who seemed to earn my trust the moment she moved in & wiped away my anxiety just by looking at me with her lovely reassuring eyes.” He looked at you with so much love.

“And he was -and still is, the most perfect boy I have ever laid eyes on, even when he can be fidgety late at night & tends to leave a mess almost everywhere he goes.” You looked at him with the same amount of love.

“I’m glad you two have each other.” Calum told the both of you truthfully. “You two deserve the best, both individually and for each other.” He then turned to you. “Y/n, I’m sorry I couldn’t be the one for you.”

“It’s nothing to apologize for, Calum!” You reassured him. “If it weren’t for our breakup, then I wouldn’t have met Brent.” You smiled. “Oh, here.” You grabbed the food off his hands. “Lemme take this for you.” You offered before going off to the kitchen.

Calum & Brent were left alone, and honestly, it was awkward. So Calum looked around, taking in all the decorations set around the house. “That’s a nice portrait.” Calum commented, walking up to a framed painting of you & Brent on the beach. Your fiancé followed behind.

“Yeah, Y/n painted it.” He told him. “It was inspired by this beach that Y/sister’s/name used to take Y/n whenever her OCD was triggered.”

“I didn’t know she could create such art.” Calum mumbled, slightly dumbfounded.

“Well the hospital helped her unlock so much potential that she didn’t even know was stored in her.” Brent reasoned. “It’s amazing. She’s amazing.” He admired the painting.

“I’m sorry but you’ll have to excuse me; my parents are here.” Brent informed Calum. “It was a pleasure meeting you!” He quickly added before leaving him to attend his parents.

A minute later, you come back to Calum -who you caught still staring at your painting. You decided to just stand next to him & look at the painting too.

“So, if you’re not in the mental hospital anymore, then that means you’re mentally stable now, right?” Calum asked.

“I’m mentally stable enough to to be around others.” You corrected. “I still have to take some pills on a daily basis & occasionally go to therapy. But I’m getting close.”

“That’s good to hear.” Calum commented.

“Well, I’m gonna go talk to the other guests. Don’t be a stranger & give yourself a good time, yeah?” You walked a little closer to him.

“I’m so happy now, Calum.” You whispered. “Life may not be perfect but I know I can fix myself & my life so that I’m at least one step closer to my definition of perfection.”

You hugged him. “Thank you, for helping me fix myself.”


aight so i might change this one a little bit bc i don’t like how i worded this ending

i think this’ll be the last part to perfection

but please tell me what you think, or request an imagine for me to make, or at least take a look at my masterlist



here’s a little self promo: (the instagram & twitter are 5sos updates account that i co-own, but the wattpad is my personal)




stay true & be you bc you’re fab af | ilysfm

~ kay

Horrific Selfie post requested by unclefungusthegoat . I do not have a proper camera and I am crap at resizing/don’t have a decent program. I mean, why have a nice, neat post when you can have this bonkers assortment of randomly sized photos? The The-Books-Atop-My-Desk-Must-Be-Arranged-Neatly-In-Stacks part of me is screaming. Oh well. A thousand apologies!

 Also, you get at least one freaky, face-contorting expression of which I have many. I tried smiling for one, but it never works unless someone else is taking my picture. It just looks forced/weird when I try to do it myself. Is that really what my eyebrows look like?

The epitome of the bad, deer-in-the-headlights mirror selfie. A classic! 

Keep reading

  • *Bart's lab*
  • Sherlock:*enters; sopping wet*
  • Molly:*raises her eyebrows* Whoa, is it raining out?
  • Sherlock:*shivering* No, I jumped into the Thames.
  • Molly:*sighs* Alright, I only asked.
  • Sherlock:...
  • Molly:...
  • Molly:*chuckles nervously* You- you're not serious?
  • Sherlock:*nods*
  • Molly:*horrified* Oh my God...why? Why did you do that? Nevermind, I have some towels in my locker... *starts to run out*
  • Sherlock:*grabs her wrist* No. I'm fine.
  • Molly:*swallows* Are things that bad? Because you know there's people you can talk to *touches his arm* there's John and Mary, Mrs. Hudson...your brother. And me.
  • Sherlock:*smiles* You misunderstand. I witnessed...
  • Molly:Witnessed what??
  • Sherlock:*breathes deeply* Someone threw a box of helpless kittens over the side. I counted six in total *rummaging in his coat* Only one of them made it.
  • Molly:*sympathetic* Oh, Sherlock...
  • Sherlock:*removes the tiny kitten* Oscar. If you don't like it, feel free to change it.
  • Molly:*smiles* He's beautiful.
  • Sherlock:And yours.
  • Molly:*hesitates* Oh, no. No, no...I can't-
  • Sherlock:*stroking the kitten* I'm sure you'll take better care of him than his previous owner. This poor orphaned kitten with the black patch of fur over his left eye, making him look like a pirate.
  • Molly:*takes the kitten* You jumped into a dirty river to save some baby cats from drowning.
  • Sherlock:*shivering* Yes.
  • Molly:*sighs* That's not fair. At least give the other men a chance.
  • Sherlock:*smiles*
  • Molly:*gestures at his coat* You're getting my morgue wet.
  • Sherlock:I'd undress but it's cold in here.
  • Molly:*shrugs* I can take you home-
  • Sherlock:*grabs her hand; pulling her out of the morgue* Okay.

anonymous asked:

frat boy!luke getting nervous talking to you at a party

Luke pushed his snapback a bit further back on his head, clearing his throat. “So, do you come here often?” He kicked himself internally.

You turned to him and quirked an eyebrow. The stuttering boy running his finger along the rim of his red solo cup was a far cry from the one you typically watched stumble into lecture 15 minutes late, his shades hiding his eyes. “No, not really.”

“I knew that.” He stared down at his shoes, unsure of what else to say. “So Ashton invited you?”

“Yeah,” you said, a small smile pulling at your lips. “He said he had a friend he wanted to introduce me to.”

Luke felt his stomach dip, and he swallowed thickly, trying not to let it on. “Oh. Did he say who?”

You bit your lip as you watched him carefully avoid your eyes. “Yeah. The Hemmatron.” 

featuringluke is doing college!5sos tonight :-)

rg521 asked:

Can we expect any more Fireverse?


“What’s up?”

“Puck just invited me to the bachelor party for the guy at Hose 22 that’s getting married next month.” You look up from your phone at Brittany, she keeps rubbing your feet in her lap.

“Ooooh! Fun!”

“No, not fun! Those guys are gross, babe.” It’s whiny, you sound whiny.

“Well yeah, they’re guys. Are there gonna be strippers?” She wiggles her eyebrows at you and bites her lip.

You can’t help but chuckle, “Well yeah… I mean, you’ve met the guys I work with right?”

“Oh yes. There’s gonna be hot strippers. San, you should totally go.”

“No… “

“Yes! I’m giving you the green light! You can even get a lap dance… I’ll give you some cash.”

Her eyes are bright blue and she’s got a big smile on her face. You know you’re lucky. No one else would ever be pushing you out the door to a strip club.

“Really?… this is something you’re ok with?”

“Totally.” She leans over and kisses your cheek. “You always said you’re like one of the guys… they invited you bc they know it’ll be a good time.”

“No… they invited me to see if I’ll drool over the strippers they’re getting.”

She laughs. “Don’t give ‘em the satisfaction then babe.”

“Whoa whoa whoa, Britt… you just said you’d give me cash for a lap dance! Changing your mind already?”

“Not at all… I just know you won’t be drooling. You’ve got all this waiting for you at home.”

“How does that not make you uncomfortable? I’m hot! I was a lady killer! You’ve seen the uniform…”

“I have seen the uniform… I like the uniform. Is this gonna be like the time we went into that one coffee shop and you were all ‘oh my god this guy had the biggest crush on me in high school’ and you got so worried he was gonna cause a scene because ‘I’m gay now’ and blah blah and then he didn’t even say anything to you?”

“Hey! He totally remembered me… he Facebooked me later that day!”

“Santana…” She gives you that look. That one that says she sees right through you. And you know she does.

She’s seen right through you since you first met

This girl has had your number since day one.

You wouldn’t have it any other way.

Keep reading


“You hadn’t expected to see Steve this weekend, this wasn’t his week to visit, but you weren’t one to complain, especially not when you loved seeing the smile he brought to your boys faces.

“These two trouble makers are Abraham and James. Can you boys say hi to everyone?” Steve asked the two three year olds. He was holding one in his left arm and the other in his right. Abraham shyly waved at the rest of Steve’s team while James eagerly waved and all but screamed hello. You smiled at your three boys and walked over to your husband taking Abe from him. 

“And this,” Steve wrapped his now free arm around you. “Is my wife, (Y/n).” You looked at everyone and your eyes fell on Clint and Natasha who were both looking at you in disbelief. “Agent Eleven, last I checked you went M.I.A.” Clint said raising his eyebrows. You rolled your eyes at him. “Oh come on Clint give her a break, she was always the slowest. Maybe she just couldn’t take the heat.” Natasha said with a smirk. 

“You know I forget that you used to work for S.H.I.E.L.D.” Steve whispered so that only you could hear, you ignored his remark seeing as there wasn’t much to say to that. “Slowest? I dare you to spend one day chasing after these little demons.” You said gesturing to Abe in your arms. Nat smiled and you knew she wanted to hold him. You slid the toddler into her waiting arms.

You turned to the rest of the team. “Dr. Banner it’s a pleasure to meet you, I followed your work on gamma radiation and it was genius. I’m just sorry to see what you’ve had to deal with now.” You said as you extended a hand to greet the doctor. “Thank you.” He said as he shook your hand. 

“Stark.” You said curtly you were going to turn your attention to the god of thunder when Tony pulled your attention back to him. “What wrong? You don’t like my work?”

“Hush up Stark.” You said giving his a slight glare before looking at the norse god. “You’re taller in person.” You said simply, you’d known that the god would be massive you’d just underestimated how massive. “So what’s the deal with the hammer?” You asked him finally being able to ask him what you’d always been dying to ask. “Steve tried explaining it but I’m still very curious.” You added.


It’d been a couple of hours since Steve had arrived with the rest of the Avengers, Nat and Steve were playing with the James; Tony and Bruce were experimenting on your kitchen microwave in an attempt to teach Abe something, and even though the three year old didn’t understand he looked at them attentively. Thor was also paying close attention to Tony and Bruce he was somewhat intrigued by what they were doing.

“I thought this wasn’t the life for you.” Clint said somewhat quietly as he plopped down on the couch next to you. “I thought it wasn’t but I guess things change.” You said looking at your three boys all scattered about the room. “It’s a good life isn’t it?” Clint asked pulling your attention back to him. 

“Yeah, it is.” You said giving him a small smile. “What happened to you (y/n)? You went M.I.A. we all thought you were dead.” He wanted answers, it was understandable, you him and Nat were the team S.H.I.E.L.D. always sent in when they wanted something done effectively-for you to just up and vanish must’ve been a scare for him and Natasha. 

“Fury put me in charge of helping Steve when he woke up, help him adjust to his new surroundings and things like that. Things were going really well, he was easily adjusting to the twenty first century, somewhere along the line I fell in love with him. We quietly got married, I got pregnant, I asked Fury for help. I knew with everything I’ve done people would come after me and I didn’t want that for my future kids. Fury sent something up and I went into hiding. I wanted to reach out to you guys, to let you know I was okay, I wanted you to be the kids’ godparents-”

“It’s fine (y/n), I get it. We’re both in the same boat remember?” He said bringing up his own family. You smiled at him greatfully. “I really missed you Clint.” You said as you wrapped your arms around him. The weight of seeing him and Natasha again falling on you. You’d always had trouble keeping the mask up around him and after all this time you were overflowing with all different kinds of emotions. Your tears silently fell each one leaving a small dark mark on his shirt. 

“I missed you too kid. I missed you too.” He said stroking your back lightly.

Requested by Anon

bonus points to anyone who can tell me who the names represent (it’s really rather obvious.)

Natasha’s eyebrows had just about climbed to her hairline when Steve finished describing the assassin.

“The Winter Soldier,” she said finally, “He’s a ghost. The intelligence field’s very own boogieman. Most don’t even think he really exists.”

“But you do,” Steve said confidently.

An odd, mirthless half smile twitched at the edges of her lips, “Kind of hard not to when a myth goes and puts a bullet through you.”

“Oh.” Steve’s confidence shrunk a little at the cool delivery.

“Where did you get a description of him from?” Natasha asked, “It’s the most detailed one I’ve ever heard.”

“Um…” Steve looks away, “I might’ve…. run into… my soulmate. He was a tad… elusive.”

Natasha didn’t quite break her cool but she stared at him with morbid fascination, “You found your soulmate. And it’s the Winter Soldier.”

Steve nodded.

“You know, Steve,” Natasha said eventually, “I like you, but I would never ever want to have your life.”

  • Sherlock:*bursts into the morgue; out of breath, running his hands over his face* Okay, okay. I have to say this now because it's driving me crazy. And I-I just want you to listen.
  • Molly:*frowns* Okay...
  • Sherlock:*bites his lip* I like you.
  • Molly:*smiles* Awww, I like you, too.
  • Sherlock:*sighs* No, I liiiike you.
  • Molly:*nods slowly* Yeah and I liiiike you, too.
  • Sherlock:*through gritted teeth* I mean I like like you.
  • Molly:*opens her mouth*
  • Sherlock:*warning* And don't say you like like me, too.
  • Molly:*chuckles* Well, what do you want me to say?
  • Sherlock:...
  • Sherlock:*huffs* Oh forget it *sits heavily onto a stool*
  • Molly:*smiles* How about 'I'd love to?'
  • Sherlock:*raises an eyebrow* Hmm?
  • Molly:Well, you're trying to ask me out, aren't you?
  • Sherlock:*relieved* Yes.
  • Molly:*kisses his forehead* I'd love to.

tavitheheroine asked:

For the au thing, 52 is absolutely beautiful

oh lord, i’m gonna die imaging this

52: Pietro in a suit

*cries* I call this one: PIETRO’S TUX

Stark had decided to throw yet another party (almost fifth one this month) for the hell of it, it’s theme–’We have never seen Pietro in a suit’. As soon as Tony had announced the theme, Pietro instantly furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “I do not get it, what is the big idea, it is just a suit…” He shook his head, as you tried fighting a smile. After the few months you had been dating him, you had never seen him in a tux.

“Oh, it’s so gonna be worth it,” Nat nudged your arm as you slightly blushed, rolling your eyes as you covered your cheeks. “Isn’t that right, (y/n)?” She arched an eyebrow, winking over to you as you shook your head.

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Bored- Dean

I couldn’t come up with anything recently, so I wrote a bored drabble! A Sam and a Castiel version will be out soon, so keep an eye out!!

You grinned, seeing Dean stop in the doorway to your room. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Thinking,” you replied, staring at your upside down boyfriend.

“And your head has to be upside down to think?” he asked, stepping into the room.

“No, I’m just bored,” you replied, shrugging.

Dean chuckled, sitting on the bed. You smiled as he took your hand, pulling you to sit up. “Well, if you’re bored, I’m sure we can fix that.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh really? What did you have in mind?”

Dean smirked, before tackling you onto the bed, hands darting over your sides. “Stop!” you cried, laughing, your smile staying as his hands stopped.

Dean’s smile softened as he leaned down, his lips an inch from yours. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you whispered back.

therewillbesparkles asked:

Anna is loopy on pain meds after coming home from the hospital and Elsa has to look after her.

Kinda reminds me of this prompt from way back when… 

“If you were a flower…you’d be th’purdiest flower ‘n th’ole gard’n!” Anna slurred from her spot on the couch, grinning goofily as Elsa came by to check if her arm was still fine in its cast. 

“I’m sure the other flowers would be very jealous if they heard you say that,” Elsa played along with a smile, pressing a kiss to the cast. 

She arched an eyebrow at the sudden glare Anna sent to her cast, before pouting up at Elsa and whining, “Yer leavin’ me fer my arm…?”


A dudebro called me gay for complimenting a girl on her makeup. 

Rather than take the time to explain to him the dichotomy of complimenting someone who won the genetic lottery on a specific aspect of their appearance (AKA: “OMG SHE’S SO HOT, LOOK AT HER BODY”) … versus complimenting something they actually took the time, practice, and patience to develop on their own (see foundation contouring, eyeliner, eyebrows, etc) …

… I just said to him “Oh my god I totally am, can I get your number?”

His brain visibly short-circuited, and as he fumbled over trying to form a comeback… I just smiled and went on my way.  

minho is the type of dad to put soapy bubbles all over your kid’s face while giving them a bath like he’ll give them a beard or an afro and huge eyebrows and he’ll throw the suds in the air and make a mess and the kid will giggle and throw suds too and you know you should scold them for getting everything all wet but they’re so cute and giggle and the baby is now putting bubbles on minho’s face and you can’t help yourself as you walk up and put some on his nose and minho just looks at you in shock and smiles slowly and says “oh it is so on” and it’s just a big soapy giggly mess

Oh Babe (Clint x reader)

Title: Oh Babe

Pairing: Clint x reader

Request: “Clint and the reader (Tony’s little sister) get drunk and it leads them to flood the entire tower”

Warnings: Kissing / Swearing

Word count: 508

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anonymous asked:

How about gom+takao+himuro react when their so cries while hugging them(the boys) from behind. Reason why could bebb anything(family problems, stress, bullied, etc) BTW, this is fur u ---> ❤❤

Awww thank you ◕‿◕✿

‘Hey!’ you greeted Kuroko with a hug, but you didn’t seem so much happy. As Kuroko pushed you away gently, he noticed your red cheeks and nose.
‘What happened, ____-san?’ he asked politely. Oh, how you loved when he put ’san’ after your name.
’Nothing.’ you sniffled and smiled at him palely. ‘I’m better now, much better.’ and you buried your face in his shoulders.

Midorima was walking in the hall alone with his lucky item when he heard quick footsteps. He turned around and recognised you.
‘____.’ he raised an eyebrow. Seeing you almost running was unusual. ‘Are you okay?’
‘No.’ you shook your head and tears filled your eyes.
‘Okay, what’s going on?’
‘My family wants to move.’ a tear left your eye. Midorima was so shocked, that even he couldn’t respond for a couple of minutes.

‘Atsushi!’ you jumped in Murasakibara’s arms.
‘I almost dropped the candies, watch out next time.’ he playfully admonished you, but as he took a better look at you, he immediately got serious. ‘Did something happen?’
‘What?’ you tried to act like everything was okay. ’No, I’m fine.’
‘I clearly see that there’s something, but okay.’ he said, then gave you a piece of candy. ‘Here, take this.’

‘You here?’ you climbed up to the school’s roof to see if Aomine was there.
‘Hm?’ he opened an eye. ‘Oh, hi.’
‘Hey.’ you whispered and casted down your eyes. ‘Can I ask you something?’
‘Aha.’ he yawned, but payed attention.
‘What would you do if one day I didn’t come to school and no one would know nothing?’
‘Hah?’ Okay, what’s the matter?’ he rolled his eyes.
‘I’m sick…’ you held a little pause. ’Terribly sick, Daiki.’ Aomine couldn’t believe you, he only was staring at you in silence for minutes.

‘Heyyyy ____cchi! Ready for a movie night?’ Kise lifted up some dvds and a bottle of your favourite drink. ‘Aaaaand of course, your fav. Let’s stay in and chill, how’s that plan?’
‘Yeah, cool.’ you nodded silently.
‘Okay, what’s wrong?’ you looked at you and noticed your wrist. ‘Oh my god, you’re bleeding!’
‘My life is falling apart.’ you laughed at yourself.
’No, no, no!’ Kise shook his head and pulled you in a tight hug. ‘I won’t let you destroy yourself.’

‘Hello.’ you put your jaw on Akashi’s left shoulder.
‘Hello, ____.’ he smiled at you, but noticed your sadness right away. ’Tell me what’s wrong.’
‘You really know everything.’ you muttered. ‘It’s just my parents. They had a fight again.’
‘I’m sorry.’ Akashi stroked your cheek. ‘Want to sleep at me tonight?’
You nodded, whereupon he held your hand said that let’s go home and forget yesterday.

‘Takaoooooo!’ you jumped on Takao’s back.
‘Hola, que tal?’ he asked you jokingly.
‘Be serious for a bit okay?’ you sniffled.
‘Hah? Wha-‘ a tear from your eyes rolled down on his neck. ‘Was that a tear??? You’re crying?’
You got off of him and stood in front of him, whilst his hands snaked on your cheeks and wiped away the tears.
‘Just tell me what happened, and we’ll figure out something, okay?’

’Tatsu!’ a voice behind Himuro called. That couldn’t be anyone else, just his beautiful girlfriend, because no one was allowed to call Tatsu. As you jumped on his back you whispered in his ear that you need to talk with him.
‘Okay, what did I do?’ he asked.
’Nothing, I just have some problems with my grades and I wanted to talk with you if you can help me.’
Himuro sighed, then raised an eyebrow.
‘Are you crying?’
‘I was.’ you scratched the back of your neck.
‘I can!t let my flower crying!’ he hugged you and kissed you hair.