paper pull

anonymous asked:

Can we just take the time to imagine Fionn trying to take you away from your study because he wants attention! Like he's been doing promo for a while, so you've been separated and now he's home and he wants allllll your attention! And he's so whingey and cheeky about it! Omg! I need you to write something to fulfil these Fionn feels!

Pestering you with kisses and cuddles from behind until you scold him and ask him to go and make dinner for the both of you. Him singing, obnoxiously loud, to put you off to only receive a balled up piece of paper being thrown in his direction. Stealing your highlighters that you’ve set out in a neat pattern to remind you of the order you’ve colour-coded your notes in. Writing you cute notes on your sticky-notes and passing them towards you when he takes the seat opposite. Hiding important notes so that you have to talk to him to see if he’s seen them anywhere in the mess of papers at the table. Pulling faces over the lid of your laptop when you’re busy looking at Powerpoints and internet websites about a topic you don’t quite understand. 

You only give him attention for a short 20 minutes whilst you eat dinner before you’re back to writing down notes and possible starts to essay questions which only makes him whine out and tap his fingers against the table. Playing footsie underneath the table until you give him a kick in the shin for being annoying. Him constantly asking if you’re finished, only to be told to go and watch some telly or catch up on his telly shows. 

And when you do eventually finish and you pile all of your papers up on top of your laptop, you go to spend time with him but he’s spark-out on the sofa with his whole body sprawled out upon the sofa and his arms folded across his chest. You leave him there as you go and get yourself ready for bed before waking him up with kisses around his face, whispering that it’s probably time to go to bed and helping him up off the sofa. Stumbling over his own feet as he slumps against you as you help him into the bedroom.

“Take a break of’a studying tomorrow,” he slurs out, head bumping against yours, “got’a day off from everything. Spend it with me, please?” xx

The next story arc of Supernatural will be Dean and Sam discovering [pulls paper from hat] the Garden of Eden but it’s guarded by God’s [spins wheel] former pet dragon and Cas has to leave because of [throws dart] an angelic plague

  • SM: This new concept is going to be everything the fans want!
  • EXO: So we're really doing a royalty concept?!
  • SM: Not quite. Someone will need to have a mullet.
  • EXO: What's a mullet?
  • SM: Think "business in the front, party in the back". And your hair will be dyed something that was popular with nu metal bands in the early 2000s, a red/black combo, so it's modern with a retro vibe.
  • Baekhyun: Wow, that sounds great! I'll do it!
  • Baekhyun: [Later that Day] I was lied to.
Hogwarts House Study Moods
  • The Gryffindor: group quizzes and jeopardy and flashcards, interacts with material whenever possible so they make models for chem and draw out maps for history and act out Shakespeare, studies in some friend's room a bit too loud to actually be focusing, highlights bc it's the quickest, pomodoros involve longer time divisions, always in OH listening to others' questions, forgets to eat and then they all order pizza followed by a Taco Bell run in the wee hours of the morn when they're hungry again
  • The Hufflepuff: learns by teaching others, has to study in advance bc they know others are going to ask for help during exam weeks, secretly procrastinates by planning for everything in their bujos, washi tape tabs, fruity non-caf teas and herbal teas to relax or sleep or to settle nerves, has gel pens in every possible color, draws the neatest diagrams, can't prioritize so studies everything, uses that essential oil trick to remember things better by smell association, focuses best with dubstep
  • The Ravenclaw: notes, notes, and notes, mind maps to connect ideas no matter how unrelated they seem, solo studying in their rooms, green tea, classical music in the background, gets led off track focusing on details that have never been mentioned in class, will die for graph paper, accidentally pulls all-nighters bc they're so obsessed with understanding every single thing inside and out, color codes with basic colors nothing fancy, eats a bunch of toast and cereal bc they don't want to waste time
  • The Slytherin: practices old tests and gets extra material from others who have taken the class, motivated by watching others study so they're always at the library during finals or at dark and quiet cafes, the night owl-iest of the bunch, iced cold brews no matter the weather, makes comprehensive study guides that cover all testable points, does nothing all term but kicks into high gear a week and a half before any exam, owns a billion black pens and has an opinion about each of them, listens to indie alt
tsundere (m)

Originally posted by nnochu

⇢ resident advisor! yoongi x reader, college au

⇢ word count: 11.2k

⇢ summary: according to the rumours, min yoongi is a bad apple- doesn’t take grades seriously, drinks as if he has two livers, a certified bad boy™. when you get paired up with him for a project, you’d never expect that someone like him would have a thing or two to teach you about life itself- and how it should be lived. 

⇢ warnings: angst, smut

🎵 song recommendation: something just like this by coldplay x the chainsmokers

a/n: finally something that isn’t pwp????? :”) 


Panic races through your veins and fills up your airway, causing your breathing to double itself, chest heaving in an attempt to calm yourself down. No, this can’t be happening, you chant to yourself over and over. The clock on your laptop is glaringly bright in the near darkness of your room, and the numbers burn themselves into the back of your eyelids. When you close your eyes, the uncomfortable stinging of your contact lenses makes your eyes water and at this point they might as well be tears of desperation.

It’s not like you’ve never had writer’s block before, you reason with yourself. You just have to start writing and edit along the way. Your own voice of reason is drowned out by the anxiety that echoes all the possible consequences of not acing this paper. It’s nearly 4 am and the essay you have so far in front of you is not enough to get an A, you know it in your bones but you can’t come up with anything better either. You could just submit this as it is, but anything less than an A on this paper would pull you down from the cusp of that ever elusive first class honours. And you can’t afford to graduate with anything less than that. The very thought of it sends a fresh chill of panic that creeps down your spine and jolts your fingers into a typing frenzy, spilling thoughts and ideas onto your screen till you reach the end of the page.

But when you read over what you’ve written, it doesn’t make sense at all, just incoherent rambling sentences strung together into a never ending paragraph. In frustration you shove your laptop away from you and push back your chair, reaching for your keys and phone. Sneaking a peek at your roommate’s still form across the room, you let yourself out of the room silently, feeling your tensed shoulders relax immediately as the cool night air embraces you with open arms.

It’s a little chilly to be out in just a long shirt and sleep shorts, but since there’s no one awake to catch you dressed like this, it’s the least of your concerns for now. The balcony that is attached to your room affords a little privacy, and it’s one of the perks of occupying the corner room on this floor. The tranquillity of the cold, autumn night directly contrasts with the millions of theories and concepts running through your mind, and any attempts at clearing your mind are failing pathetically. The residential halls are eerily silent at this time of the night, and as you glance down over the protective railings, you consider how easy it would be to just climb over, just one leg over and then-

“Late night?” You whirl around at the interruption of a raspy, gruff voice sounding from behind you. Your eyes are met with a figure clothed in an oversized sweatshirt and jeans, but it’s only when you squint in the darkness to survey his face that you realise who he is.

Keep reading

The 15 PLOT POINTS of Story Structure

To all the writers who have ever been told they need to outline their story, and privately thought “Great. But how do you DO that? What exactly does that mean?! Is there a map? WHAT IS THE SPECIFIC DEFINITION OF THE VAGUE WORD ‘OUTLINE’?”

Good news. Stories have structure. Structure that can be learned. And a fantastic place to start learning structure? 

Save the Cat: The Last Book on Screenwriting You’ll Ever Need by Blake Snyder. This book gives a simple outline that most stories follow. And as an introduction to story structure, it can’t be beat. 

In Save the Cat, 15 plot points are spelled out in something called a beat sheet. During the outlining process, these “beats” or plot points can be used as an armature or skeleton that your story is built upon. 

So what are those 15 plot points?

Opening Image: A snapshot of the hero’s problematic ordinary world, right before the story starts and changes everything. 

Set-Up: Further establishing that ordinary world and what the hero does every day, impressing upon the audience or reader what’s wrong, and the idea that something needs to change.

Theme Stated:  The truth that the hero will learn by experiencing the story, the statement that will be proven to the audience. But upon first encountering this truth, in this story beat right in the beginning, the hero doesn’t understand or outright refuses to believe it. The theme stated is asking a question, a question which the story will answer.

Catalyst: The ordinary world is shattered. Something unexpected happens, and this event triggers all the conflict and change of the whole story. Life will never be the same after this moment. This is the Call to Adventure. 

Debate: But for a moment, the hero won’t be quite sure about answering that call. Leaving behind the ordinary world is difficult – even if the catalyst has come along and disrupted everything – because the ordinary means safety, it means not being challenged, it means avoiding conflict and heartache. Yes, that existence they’re stuck in might be stagnant and unpleasant, but it protects them from facing the intimidating task of growth, of becoming something better.

Break Into 2: And this is when the hero decides to answer the call and cross the threshold of act two, determined to pursue their goal. 

B Story: This is when the relationship – which usually carries and proves the theme – starts in earnest.

Fun & Games: This is just what it says: the premise promised a certain type of pure entertainment, and this beat is where we get to experience it fully. 

Midpoint: This is either a false victory or a false defeat. Something really really good happens. Or something the exact opposite.

Bad Guys Close In: Forces of opposition and conflict begin to converge on the hero and his goal. Everything begins to fall apart for the hero, the defeats piling up one after another, the main character punching back.  

All Is Lost: This is the sequence where absolutely everything falls apart for the hero. The plans fail, the goal is lost, the mentor dies, the villain wins. All is, quite literally, lost. 

Dark Night of the Soul: The hero’s bleakest moment is right here. In addition to all of the tangible things that have been lost, hope and the gumption to continue with the story have also vanished. There is usually a hint of death here, of some kind. An actual death, or an emotional or spiritual death. 

Break into 3: Ah, but there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. Inspiration occurs, hope is rekindled, courage to pursue the story returns. Usually, this is the moment where the main character learns what they NEED, the truth which will heal them, and allow them to fix their own lives. With this, they are able to snatch victory from defeat.

Finale: And in here, the story goal is pursued once more, but this time from the stronger version of the hero – the version that has learned the theme, and committed to act accordingly. 

Closing Image: The opposite of the opening image. This is a snapshot of life after the story, the problems of the ordinary world solved or banished, a new world opening up for the hero. If the opening is the equivalent of “once upon a time” this is saying “And every day after … “ 

So let’s see how that works! And to see it, let’s look at my favorite short film of all time – Paperman  (because this gave me an excuse to watch it several times and listen to the music while writing it.)

1) Opening Image

We see George, a twenty-something in a sixty-something’s suit and tie, obviously on his way to work, and not looking at all enthused about it. He stares straight ahead, expression bored, lifeless, right on the edge of depressed. Wind from a passing train pushes him slightly, and he lets it, demeanor unchanging. 

2) Set-Up

But then a sheet of paper, caught on the wind, hits his shoulder. The paper flies off again, and a young woman appears onscreen, chasing after the paper, as the surprised George watches.

 After catching it offscreen, the girl returns, tucking the paper into the stack she carries, smiling slightly. They both face forward, waiting for the train side-by-side, in silence. She’s glancing sideways at him, he’s smiling and fidgeting nervously, but still resolutely facing forward; they’re both aware of each other, seemingly hoping the other will be braver, but neither able to overcome their shyness and the unspoken rules of everyday life. 

3) Theme Stated 

As a train charges into the station, a paper from George’s stack is snatched by the wind and lands flat on the woman’s face. When he pulls the paper away, she laughs: her lipstick left a perfect kiss mark on the sheet. When George spots it, he laughs too … 

but when he opens his eyes, she’s gone. She’s boarded a different train. The kiss-mark paper flaps in the wind as the train begins to move, taking her away. He watches, crestfallen. She glances back. Looks of regret and disappointment are exchanged, both a little wistful. The paper, the symbol of their fleeting memorable meeting, waves goodbye. 

Through this little sequence of images, the question of the whole story is asked: Was there a connection between them? Will they find each other again? And on a wider level: What does it take to find love? 

Further Set-Up:

And cut to George behind a desk, in a gray office, dark file cabinets towering behind him, clocks on the wall ticking away his life. Miserable again, he stares at the lipsticked paper. A stack of documents slams onto the desk from on high. The grim-faced boss of the office scowls down at him. George frowns at the stack, then at his boss, who stomps away.   

4) Catalyst 

Breeze pulls the kissed paper off his desk and out the open window. He catches it just in time, breathing a sigh of relief. And then he sees something. The girl! She’s there! She’s right across the street! 

5) Debate 

He needs to get her attention! He dithers for a moment, then throws the window wide and enthusiastically waves his arms.

 An ominous "ahem” from the boss brings him back inside, and back to his desk. But his attention is still on the girl, and the need to get her attention. He folds a paper airplane, stands before the window, poises the airplane to fly … but he glances at his boss’s office before he throws it. Should he? 

6) Break Into Act 2

Yes. Yes, he should. He sends the little airplane messenger to bridge the distance between himself and the girl. 

7) B Story

What he should have done while waiting for the train, he’s committed to do now. Talk to her. The relationship of the story has started officially. 

8) Fun & Games

In this moment, he becomes the “paper man” of the title. He folds and throws paper airplane after paper airplane. The boss shows up, shoves him back and slams his window. George pauses until he’s gone, then just keeps sending airplanes. They sail over the street, but are intercepted or miss their mark every time. 

9) Midpoint

He reaches for more paper … and knocks an empty tray off the desk. He’s run out. Except for one paper, the kissed one, the only one he’s held onto. With a determined look, he folds it precisely into an airplane, stands before the window, breathes to steady himself … 

And the wind steals the airplane from his hand, sending it spiraling to the street below, George reaching out pointlessly. On top of this defeat, the girl leaves the office.  

10) Bad Guys Close In 

Immediately, the boss emerges from his lair. The other office workers hurriedly return to their scribbling, hunched to avoid drawing attention. The girl is leaving the building across the street! George turns from the window … and finds the boss looming above him, glowering, delivering another tall pile of meaningless work. 

George sinks into his chair, defeated. But something happens as he watches his boss walk away, as he sees the office workers in neat rows; all of them older versions of George, reflections of what he will become … if he doesn’t do something right now. 

He runs, sending paper from the perfect stacks flying in his wake. 

11) All Is Lost

But when he escapes the building, and attempts to cross the street, cars nearly kill him. And when he finally makes it to the opposite sidewalk, the girl is nowhere in sight. She’s lost again. 

And all he manages to find is the little traitorous paper airplane. The paper he’d believed might mean something, might have signified something important and maybe a little magical. Which it obviously never did. 

12) Dark Night of the Soul

Angry, he grabs the plane and throws it with all his strength.  He’s lost his job, he’s lost the girl, he’s lost all faith in the magic he’d just started to believe might be real. He stomps towards the train station, returning home. 

13) Break Into 3  

But fate has other plans. The airplane glides over the city, almost supernaturally graceful and purposeful. It dives between buildings, and lands in the middle of the alley where all the paper planes have collected. 

It sits immobile. Then it moves. Moves again. And jumps into flight. The airplane flies over the rest, stirring them into motion, into the air. In a place where not even a breath of wind could reach, there is now a whirlwind of George’s airplanes. 

Though the forces of mediocrity tried to keep them apart, something greater has recognized George’s efforts and is going to see things through. 

14) Finale

A parade of airplanes follows George down the street. 

The leader attaches to his leg. He brushes it off, mad. A flurry of them attach to him, then carry him down the street, unfazed by his fighting. 

The leader airplane rockets over the city purposefully, finds the girl, then lures her to follow.

 She chases after. 

Somewhere else in the city, George is being pushed wherever the paper airplanes want him to go. We switch back and forth between George and the girl, as the airplanes push him and beckon her. 

Until they’re both on different trains, which stop simultaneously, on opposite sides of the platform. The girl gets out. She fiddles with the airplane, like she’s trying to get it to work again. And just then, a breeze brings hundreds of paper planes skittering all around the platform.

 She looks up …

15) Closing Image

And there’s George, covered in paper planes. 

He lurches towards Meg, and the airplanes falls away, their work done. 

George and Meg face each other, smiling, the barriers of routine and shyness overcome. Exactly what should have happened, exactly what was meant to happen. Putting effort into connection and love prevailed in the end, defeating the allure of life spent in safety and mediocrity. The closing image is the opposite of the opening: he’s not alone, he’s not facing the train leading to his mundane job, he’s not looking miserable and hopeless. He’s facing the girl, his bright and meaningful new future.

***

So! Those are the 15 plot points. This is a fantastic way to begin learning what story structure is, why it works the way it does, and how to precisely pull it off. 

For a more in-depth explanation, I highly recommend picking up a copy of Save the Cat. (It holds a special place in my heart; it was the first screenwriting book I ever read, and started obsessive study of storytelling.)

An Old Challenger Approaches

So our DM has a special rule in his sessions to keep things fresh. On character creation we designate what our ultimate life goal for the character is. If this goal is achieved, the character retires unless he/she has found a new worthy goal to work towards. These characters hang around a guild the oldest character created to swap stories and help out the newbies. If you earned the Guildmaster’s favor, she gave you a one time use magic mirror to call in some backup.

Our party is currently infiltrating a cult of snake worshippers and had just been found out. Outnumbered, they were running through the broken down temple the cult had been using.

Fighter: “You just had to drag every ’s’ in front of the head guy!”

Bard: “Sssorry!”

Wizard: “I hate you so much…”

DM: as you round the corner, you see they cult members have blocked the door and all of the exits. The moon hangs high in the sky, which means that any guards around this slum had long since left their posts.

Fighter: “I guess we are gonna have to fight. There’s too many of them.”

Wizard: “Wait! I’m gonna use the mirror!”

The DM gets a huge smile: “Ok! Lets see who you get!”

We hear about 4 dice rolls and some shuffling of paper as he pulls out the character sheet.

DM: “Everyone make a perception check.”

Everyone rolls above 10.

DM holds his phone above the screen and plays the Pacific Rim theme. Bard’s player cheers!

DM: “As you stand your ground against the cultists, you feel a rumble in the ground. You look to once of the stained glass windows to see a huge shadow raise it’s arm. With a shatter, a huge fist crashes through and you hear a young voice yell ‘Here I come to save the day!’”

The mirror had called in Stevie, a ten year old artificer character who’s goal was to construct the ultimate bully deterrent. He had succeeded with a Huge shield guardian who he affectionately named, “Bubba.”

Needless to say, the cult ended that night.

Secret Admirer

Note: I’ve been sick so I haven’t been able to get too many requests done. but I really enjoyed writing this! I do hope you like it! feedback is welcome! thanks for the request, sweetie .c

Request: Bucky gets jealous and protective when he finds out that a man has been showering you, his wife, with gifts and presents and letters and confronts that man :-D

Originally posted by caps-bucky


If one thing about Bucky was for certain: he despises another male giving you attention. He spent years and years believing nobody could ever love him, and he’d be damned if he let another man swoop in and steal you away, the one who loves him dearly. Though, countless times you’ve assured Bucky that he’s the only man you have eyes on, and you’d never leave him, he was still protective of you. 


Bucky was startled out of his deep slumber early in the morning, to find the postman holding a bouquet of roses, asking for him to sign for them. His stomach twisted and his eyes squinted at the brightly colored flowers.  

“Are you sure this is the right address? I didn’t order flowers.” Bucky always hand picked your flowers, never bought, except on special occasions. You preferred handpicked, enjoying the special meaning behind them a lot more than a floral shop arrangement. But sometimes Bucky would surprise you. This was not one of those times.

The postman nodded and gave Bucky a friendly smile. “Yep! Y/N Y/L/N still lives here, right?” The postman asks, noticing Bucky’s eyes flitting back and forth across his face. “What’s it to you?” Bucky snaps, angrily taking the vase from the postman’s hand.

The postman’s eyes widen and he stands there, shocked. “Just making sure. The floral shop has no time for mistakes.” He said before turning on his heel and rushing away to finish his route.

Bucky sighed heavily as he looked for a note attached to the roses. He wanted to throw them away, maybe even stomp on them and hunt the asshole down and give him a piece of his mind. But instead, he waited patiently for you to finish showering before he acted on his emotions.

He sat them on the kitchen island in your shared apartment, wracking his brain as to who would send you, his wife, such an intimate gift. It couldn’t have been someone from your family; sadly so, you lost connections after being recruited. The guys on the team knew better to pull a prank like this; trying to woo his woman, they knew he’d stop at nothing to make sure every last flower was shoved so far up-

“Ooo, pretty!” Your voice rang through the kitchen as you skipped over to Bucky. Bucky’s heart sank at the sound of the excitement coming from your pretty mouth he loves to kiss so much. “Bucky, you shouldn’t have!” You smiled brightly, leaning over to him and placing a kiss to his cheek.

He frowned at your reaction, knowing how happy you got anytime he ever got you flowers. “I didn’t.” Bucky mumbled with a frown, his tired eyes falling to your hand on his arm. Your eyebrows creased with confusion. Your eyes scanned the bouquet, searching for a card as you twisted the vase around. Only then did you realize there wasn’t one.

“Well, who would’ve sent me these?” You asked softly, nobody coming to mind. Bucky shrugged and you tapped your fingers against the kitchen island. “I don’t like this.” Bucky grumbled before getting off the seat and pacing the kitchen.

You sighed and almost rolled your eyes at him, but even this confused you. “Well, why don’t I take them to the little old lady down the street later?” You offered with a small smile, wanting to get these away from Bucky before the vase was thrown into the wall. Or worse, into the head of the person that sent them.

Bucky nodded and looked over at you, his heart warming at the sight of your still wet hair and bright eyes. He never understood how someone could look so beautiful without even trying. So no, he was not about to let someone else see you this way.

You walked over to him and pulled him into you, your arms wrapping around his waist. Bucky held you close and he pressed his lips on the top of your head. His metal hand grasped at your shirt, the desperation to keep you in his arms evident in his actions. “I know you’re worrying. Don’t.” You whispered, looking up at Bucky, your chin resting on his torso.

His hand caressed your cheek and you smiled, causing one of his own to form on his lips.


It had been a week since the flower situation. Bucky didn’t dwell on it, but he was still alert when the postman would stop by. Bucky had been gone all morning, meeting up with Steve for the day. You were lounging around at home, working on a painting for your local art class, before you heard the doorbell ring.

You smiled and set down your paintbrush, wiping the paint on your hands onto your smock. You ran to the door and half expected to see Bucky, but knew he wouldn’t be home for a few more hours, and you were met with the postman.

“Hi Charlie!” You said with a smile, taking your letters from his outstretched hand. Charlie then pulled out a box, handing it to you. “What’s this?” You asked, inspecting the small box. “Not sure, sweetie. Sign here.” He said with a smile, offering you his pen and his clipboard. You quickly signed for the box and waved to Charlie before going back inside.

The box felt light and didn’t have any information on it except for your address. Placing the letters in the small mail slot near your door, you examined the box, lifting it to your ear as you gently shook it.

You couldn’t hear anything so you went to the kitchen to carefully open it with a knife. Light blue gift paper stuck out as you lifted the flaps open and you creased your eyebrows. This paper looks familiar.

You pulled it out and gasped, seeing a Tiffany & Co. business card on top of a light blue box with white satin ribbon tied around it, a bow sitting on the lid. You grasped the box and opened it, seeing a bracelet catching the sunlight through the windows, shining brightly in a ray of rainbow colors.

“Who are you?” You whispered. First the roses and now an expensive piece of jewelry? You had no clue who would be sending you things like this. You were sure Bucky was going to freak out after seeing this. Gently placing the bracelet back inside of the box, you left it there so you could finish painting.

A few hours passed, and you had finished your project. The door suddenly opened, heavy boots being taken off made you smile.

Bucky stepped into view and you squealed, running up to him. You always felt so happy when he got home. “Bucky!” You giggled, running straight into his arms. Bucky chuckled and caught you, twirling you around before capturing your lips with his.

You smiled into the kiss as Bucky held you closer. He smelled like shampoo and aftershave from his shower this morning, with a hint of vanilla. Bucky set you down and held your cheeks in his hands, smiling down at you.

“You’ve got paint in your hair.” Bucky said with a laugh, his fingers trying to clean it off. You flapped his hands away and giggled. You suddenly remembered the little box you got earlier and you gasped. “Oh yeah! A box came today.” You said, walking away from Bucky. His demeanor changed immediately, jealousy and anger settling into his chest.

“What is it? Who is it from? Did they leave a note?” He bombarded you with questions as he ganged up on your heels into the kitchen. You grabbed the box and opened it, getting the bracelet out again.

You held it out for Bucky to see and he looked at it, his eyebrows creasing. “Okay, this it getting out of hand already. I’m gonna find this punk and give him a piece of my mind.” Bucky growled, taking the bracelet from you. “This is the last fucking straw!“ He yelled, his loud voice echoing through the hallway before he turned into the living room.

You sighed and looked up at him. “Bucky, it could be harmless.” You explained, trying to catch up to Bucky as he turned away from you, his shoulders visibly tensing. He scoffed and shook his head. “Harmless? Another man is sending you gifts, Y/N!” Bucky exclaimed, turning to you and you got into the room.

Another sigh fell from your lips and you walked over to Bucky, pulling him into your arms. He stood still, his hand gripping tightly onto the bracelet. “I will figure out who this is, and I can’t promise I’ll be nice about it.” Bucky grumbled, his arms moving to wrap around your shoulders.


It’s been two weeks now and you’ve received another bouquet of roses and another piece of expensive jewelry, without a note of who it could be from. Bucky made many attempts at tracking the person down, but you hoped they would stop before he could hurt someone.

Suddenly, you heard the postman at the door. You rushed to the door, beating Bucky to it so he wouldn’t take any of this out on someone innocent. Luckily he was still in the kitchen. You opened the door and smiled at the postman, asking him how his morning has been so far.

“Rather lovely! Here’s your mail!” Charlie said with a chipper voice, his hand holding a few letters out to you. You took them with a smile and said goodbye. Charlie returned your smile before heading back down the walkway, his bag slung over his shoulder.

You shifted through the letters as you walked back inside, kicking the door shut behind you. Most of the letters were simple bills, but a purple colored envelope with your name written in cursive on it caught your attention.

You were nervous to open it, you never really got any letters from anyone personally. You used to when you first became an Avenger, but now, it was rare. Maybe this was one of those times. You only hoped so, so Bucky wouldn’t freak out. But as you opened the envelope and pulled out the letter, your eyes raking down the message, your accusations were wrong.

Bucky walked in with an unreadable expression as he crossed over and behind you, looking down at the letter over your shoulder.

Dear Y/N, I hope you’ve enjoyed the gifts! I was scared to face you, but I’d like to meet up with you! If it’s okay with you, you can meet me at-” Bucky ripped the letter from your hands as he read the address and he laughed. “Is this idiot serious right now!?” He shouted as he stared down at you. You gave him a small shrug.

Whoever wrote the letter wanted you to meet them at noon at some coffee shop. “Bucky, please, don’t do anything you’ll regret.” You pleaded, looking up at a rather angry man. Bucky’s jaw clenched and he slipped on his baseball cap.

“I don’t know who this is, you are not coming with me. It could be a trap and they could hurt you, they could-” Bucky rushed and you quickly stepped onto your toes and shut him up with a kiss. “I’m going with you. I’ll be okay.” You said with a small smile.

Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose as he sighed heavily. He looked back at you and shook his head gently. “I swear, he’s dead.” Bucky grumbled, grabbing your hand and making his way to the destination.

You took your time looking around the city, the sun shining brightly and a few birds flying around every now and then. Other than all of this, it was a nice day out. As you walked towards the coffee shop, you saw a familiar face standing outside, the man looking down at his watch.

You gasped as you realized who it was. It was your art partner, Riley. Was he the one that was sending you all of those gifts? “No way.” You whispered, catching Bucky’s attention. “Is that him?” Bucky asked as he caught sight of the man and immediately bolted towards him. “Hey! Punk!” Bucky yelled out, his metal hand whirring as he tightened his fist.

Riley’s head snapped towards you and Bucky, his eyes widening just in time for Bucky to lunge at him. Bucky grabbed Riley by his shirt and lifted him off of the ground. “So you’re the guy that’s been sending my wife gifts and love letters!?” Bucky yelled at Riley, moving to shove him against the brick building.

You stood back as you watched, your heart racing fast. “Bucky!” You yelled after him, noticing a few people slowly walk by as they took in the scene. The last thing you wanted was for Bucky to end up on the news channel for lashing out on someone in the public eye, so you knew you had to do something.

Rushing over to Bucky, you grabbed his arm. He was breathing heavily as he dropped Riley to the ground. Riley was pretty shaken up and you couldn’t help but feel guilty. “Bucky, let me talk to him. He’s from my art class.“ You said softly, moving to help Riley up. Bucky scoffed and looked at you bewildered. “Are you serious, Y/N!?” Bucky yelled out.

Riley stood back up and looked between you and Bucky. “I didn’t know she had a boyfriend. I didn’t mean any harm. She never mentioned a boyfriend.” Riley explained nervously. You let out a sigh. “I told you about Bucky, remember? He’s my husband.” You said, moving towards Bucky again. He pulled you into his side protectively.

Riley’s eyebrows creased. “I’ve never seen a ring.” He commented. You lifted up your left hand, the diamond shining in the sunlight. A soft ‘oh’ fell from his lips. Bucky pushed you behind him as he walked forward. Riley took a cautious step backward. “Listen, man, it’s only a misunderstanding.” He squeaked, holding his hands up.

Bucky snarled at him and turned back to you, quickly pulling you away without another word. You didn’t dare look back at Riley, no matter how bad you felt. He was really nice and welcomed you into the art class with a warm gesture. But you never thought he’d be your secret admirer.

You never wore your ring to art class after the first day, you almost had it snagged off by your smock. Bucky was silent most of the way home and you weren’t sure what to say. He left your side as soon as you stepped into the door, and went straight to the bedroom.

You followed after him, watching him closely. Bucky didn’t look angry anymore. His shoulders were slumped and his eyes held a sadness you’ve never seen before.

“Are you okay?” You asked quietly as you moved to stand in front of Bucky. His head was hanging low and he shook it, his hair framing his face under his cap. You lifted his chin up with your finger and looked into his eyes. “Talk to me, baby.” You whispered, noticing his blue eyes had grown a light shade of grey.

Bucky sighed and moved his hands to your waist, his thumbs digging into your skin. “It’s just-the thought of someone else feeling how I feel about you-it scares me.” Bucky mumbled, leaning into your hand on his cheek. You smiled gently and took off his cap, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Hey, come on, I’m yours. I’m not going anywhere.” You said, pressing more kisses to his face.

After a few more, Bucky couldn’t help but chuckle. He pulled you onto him and fell onto his back on the mattress as you straddled him. You looked down at Bucky, letting your noses graze one another’s in an eskimo kiss. “You know I love you, James.” You said, tucking a strand of his hair behind his ear. “Even when you’re jealous.” You added with a sly smirk.

Bucky pulled you closer, his metal hand keeping you in place. “I love you, too. Wait- no, I am not jealous.” He deadpanned, a hint of truth behind his words. You giggled and kissed his lips. You pulled away too soon for his liking and he groaned, rubbing his hands along your lower back. “You are.” You said, kissing his lips again.

“Am not.” Kiss. “Are too.” Kiss. “Am not.” Kiss. “Fuck, can you blame me?” Bucky asked as he rolled on top of you, moving his hands underneath your shirt. You smiled and let out a breathy giggle. “Just kiss me.” You whispered, pulling him down by his collar. “Gladly.” He mumbled against your lips.

Note: yikes, I hope this doesn’t suck! .c

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But what about humans and casual destruction? Like you set a bunch of humans in some mildly boring situation and they’ll start idly tearing apart bits of paper or leaves, pulling grass out of a lawn, flaking off bark. And either they don’t notice, ever, only when someone points it out to them, or when they refocus enough to stop. 

…until they start casual destruction again.

Sometimes hope is a thing with feathers
And sometimes hope is a thing with a snow covered snoot

Call Me Kitten | Jimin

Originally posted by yoonmin

Genre:  Fluff |  Hybrid!AU

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Warnings: None

Word count: 1259

A/N: Long time, no post, huh? But here we are, I honestly don’t know what this is, but I hope you like anyway! 


Tilting your head slightly, you peered down at the shy hybrid, the sleeves of his over-sized sweater pulled over his small hands, his eyes soft and curious as he stared right back at you. His gaze melted you to your knees as his tail curled around his waist, ears curiously twitching among his soft locks of hair.

“So… this particular cat hybrid is named Jimin, feel free to look him over, whatever you need…” The employee stated in a rather monotone, bored tone, her nails seemingly miles more interesting than a potential adoption taking place.

“Sure, thanks…” You nodded politely, your gaze quickly drawn back to the hybrid in front of you, his legs crossed neatly as he perched on a slightly worn out pillow, his stare never leaving you as his mouth lay cracked open ever so slightly in complete fascination at you.

The employee sighed exasperatedly as she sauntered out, as you shook your head with a gentle smile, cautiously walking over and kneeling beside Jimin, observing his timid posture, his hands resting under his chin as he continued to stare quietly.

“Hello…” You finally spoke in a gentle tone, a hint of fascination laced in your voice as you stared at his effortless beauty, the way his blonde locks occasionally slipped down over his eyes, those eyes that held such an inquisitive look in them, his plump lips curled into an adorably irresistible pout as he blinked innocently at you.

“Hi… I’m Jimin,” he finally spoke, his slight nerves showing in his shaky voice. He hadn’t recalled being so nervous before; he was usually known as one of the more playful kittens, a bright smile always gracing his features. But, he was worried. Worried that you wouldn’t like him, that you would go adopt another hybrid instead, when he felt strangely drawn to you, and he knew he wanted you.

You hesitantly reached out to touch his ears, cupping them as you began to gently stroke and rub the soft fur, eliciting a quiet purr from his throat, his head leaning forward into your touch, and in that moment, you knew this was the hybrid you had to take home.

**

You fished through your bag for the keys to your apartment, Jimin standing behind you and shifting from foot to foot as he stared around the place, eyes wide with awe, cutely blinking once again.

“Ah, here we are,” you sighed in relief, brushing past the adoption papers and pulling out the keys, the jangling sound causing Jimin to wince slightly, ears flattening against his head anxiously. You noticed, frowning in slight worry as you watched him, your eyes scanning his face to decipher what the matter was.

“Hey, it’s okay…” You spoke in the same soothing voice as before, Jimin visibly calming as he looked up at you with those wide eyes you couldn’t resist, holding back the urge to coo at him, instead limiting yourself to gently rubbing his ears.

“Come in, Jimin,” you stepped to the side and ushered him in, as he took in his new surroundings, looking back at you for permission to look around.

“Can… can I look at the place…?” He spoke for the second time, his hands shyly pulling his sleeves further over his fists, and you felt yourself melt for the millionth time that day.

“Of course, sweetie, this is your home now, feel free,” you gestured him in, pulling your coat off and carefully hanging it up, not noticing the rose pink dusted on Jimin’s cheeks at the nickname. He cautiously padded around, looking around at all the cute decorations neatly arranged around the house, his head tilting in his usual inquisitive manner.

You followed him in, setting yourself down on the couch, a small smile spreading onto your lips as you watched him, placing your keys back down on the small coffee table in front of you with a loud jangle. Jimin cowered at the sound once again, his tail curling around himself and his ears flattened, gently whimpering in, what seemed like, fear. Your own eyes widened, and you hesitantly reached your arms out for him, coaxing him closer.

“I promise not to hurt you, sweetie, come here…” You met his eyes once again, the anxiety and fear held in them sending a pang to your heart, and you sighed. He carefully and anxiously inched over, his eyes asking you for permission once again, before sitting down onto your lap, his arms instantly flying around your waist as he buried his face in your neck.

You jumped a little at the sudden affection, quickly warming up to the touch as you brought your arms around him, holding him close to you protectively.

“Tell me, what’s wrong?” You looked back down at his face still buried in your neck, and he sighed at the question, finally peeking up with eyes welling up with tears.

“I don’t like the sound of the keys…” he started. “Because they remind me of the keys that would lock me in a cage, in the dark, alone…” He shuddered at the memory, whimpering a little as you felt tugging on your heartstrings, bringing your arms around him tighter in a comforting hug.

“It’s okay now, you’re here to live with me, and I promise to take good care of you, no-one will hurt you here, okay?” You gently brushed the fleeting tears away from his eyes, and he nodded gratefully, his body finally calming and relaxing in your touch, his own arms trembling slightly around your waist.

“They really didn’t treat us as well as it seems… that’s just a show they put on for visitors, they treat us like… well, shit, when there’s no-one here, any sign of “misbehavior”, and we end up in that cage, left alone all night… away from my friends and brothers…” He sighed yet again, his face nuzzling against your neck as he inhaled your sweet scent to calm himself.

“That sucks, that really does, you guys aren’t possessions or objects to be thrown around, yeah?” You gently cupped his face, brushing his cheek with you thumb and he nodded, a grateful smile on his lips.

“Thank you, Y/N, you’re very caring, and… I’m glad you picked me…” He looked down shyly with a growing smile gracing his lips, and you felt your heart flutter, gently stroking his ears with a smile of your own.

**

Over time, the two of you grew close, Jimin finally coming out of his shell and reverting to his true, playful self, his arms forever clinging to your waist whenever you were home. You learned each others’ likes and dislikes, preferences, you introduced Jimin to your favourite TV shows, much to his delight, and he’d sit by you, cuddled into your side affectionately, occasionally swatting you with his tail with a laugh.

There were nights where the bedroom door was locked, clothes strewn carelessly on the floor as needy whimpers and mewls were all that could be heard from the room, mixed in with your own sinful sounds, and nights you spent cuddled together, talking about anything and everything.

You had both become inseparable, his body curled up against yours as you both slept, his tail wrapped protectively around you, arms keeping him close, comforting him every time he woke up alarmed and scared from his occasional nightmares. With your comfort, he always managed to return to the warmth of the bed and your embrace, drifting back into the land of sleep with the gentlest of smiles. 

it da first day of atsutodo week

idk how first dates work tbh since im a single potato, so i did what i would think would be an ideal first date, which is getting cotton candy or something idk im tired i did this in history class

ill make quality atsutodo art later lmao

The Girlfriend Tag

Originally posted by arophan

Imagine: You and Dan decide to give the fans what they want, and cute video of the internents favourite couple

A/N: I know this isn’t any thing about marvel but I couldn’t help myself, I’ve been watching all of Dan and hil’s videos and getting so many feelis. I just had to. Also I really should be doinf my German coursework, bit too late, Dan is more important

Warnings: Some swearing, implied smut but just fluff really

Word Count: 1955 (got a little carried away)


“Hello internet” Dan starts off with his iconic opener

“Today, I am joined by the wonderful Y/N, who you may also know as my girlfriend!” He exclaimed, giving out a laugh as your cue to jump into the camera view.

“Hey guys” You giggled, getting comfortable next to Dan

“Now you may be wondering what original video I have for you today, and let me tell you, it doesn’t get more original than this”

“We are doing the girlfriend tag!” You almost shouted, causing Dan to let out a rather loud groan.

“Jeez, lets tone it now my channel isn’t used to your happy attitude just yet” He joked, covering his ears

“Just because you literally only have the feeling of embarrassment, doesn’t mean I can’t be happy” You fire back, sending a smirk in his direction.

“Oh God, too much sass. I want Phil back” Your dork of a boyfriend joked

“Shut up, we kind of have a part of Phil with us now” You explained

“Really how so?” Dan played along

“Well, he did do the questions for us to answer”

“God knows what kind of weird stuff he has put in here; I don’t know if you guys have noticed but Phil is like obsessed with sharing our relationship with others. If he isn’t taking sneaky photos of us and tweeting them, then he is jumping into a room when we are together doing a live stream of us.”

As Dan continued to talk about his best friend, you couldn’t help but admire his perfect features. His big, wide smile that would light up a room. His unusually large dimple that you found so adorable. How he is constantly touching and checking if his hair looks okay, which of course it does. And his dark drowns eyes, that you could stare into for days.

“..Y/n?” You were abruptly ripped out of your thoughts by Dan waving a hand in front of your face

“Sorry” You blushed, red staining your cheeks as you realised Dan caught you staring at him and will most definitely keep this part in his video, because, well let’s face it, a bit of an arse.

“What were you so caught up about?”

“Just admiring the view” You jokingly sent back and big wink. Now it was Dan’s’ turn to blush, whist also letting out a laugh

“That was so cringe, I might just have to take it out of the video.” Dan spoke to the camera; he was definitely not taking that part out.

“Right so to start this video I’m going to put my hand into the hat and pull out a question. The questions are basically letting you guys know even more about our relationship and hopefully teaching us a bit more about each other” Dan explained.

“Ohhhh can I go first?” You excitedly asked. You couldn’t help it, there was something so fun about doing a video with your boyfriend.

“Of course”

You dove your hand into the hat, grabbing the first folded piece of paper you felt and pulled it out.

“Alright it says, ‘Where was our first kiss?’” For the second time you felt your cheeks heat up.

“I’m going to be so red this whole video, reckon you could like put a filter on me to make me look better?” You joked, however it wasn’t such a bad idea.

Dan laughed, before saying

“So do you want to answer or me?”

“You do it” You always loved hearing Dan talk about your relationship

“Alright, I remember it was our second date and we were just hanging in the living room eating pizza talking after just finishing up on the X-box. I was so nervous, just thinking about leaning in and possibly facing rejection and ruining it all. But then you made a joke out about anime and I knew I had to do it before someone else snatched you away” Dan smiled at the memory, you beaming right back at him.

“Then he just leant in and kissed me, obviously I didn’t turn down that face and now here we are two years later” You finished, butterflies erupting in your stomach at the fond memory.

“OK, next question” Dan stuck his hand in the hat rather ungracefully causing a few questions to topple out.

“Shit” he mumbled, throwing back three in the hat and reading out the remaining one on the floor.

“Finish this sentence ‘My girlfriend is a complete…..’” Dan stopped to think for a minute, you couldn’t help but anxiously wait for what he was going to say

“…..twat” He finally spoke. This caused you both to simultaneous burst out into a fit of laughter, clutching your stomach you couldn’t be surprised at what Dan said, it was so him. You knew Dan loved you with everything he had, it was very obvious. You guys didn’t have a mushy gushy relationship, it was more full of lots of jokes and banter, you guys were basically best friends,

“You are such and arse, why am I dating you?” You tried to sound upset, but the smile that you couldn’t wipe off your face gave it all away.

“You loveeeeee me really” He rather obnoxiously sung

“Actually Babe, I’m secretly in love with Phil and I only come round to your house on the chance that I will see my one true love” You lied, not helping but feel a bit weird by saying you like Phil, who was basically like a brother to you.

“That’s just mean, and a little gross” He complained

“Yeah I know; I have no clue why I said it” you giggled

“Right, my turn” You plunged your hand into the hat, pulling one out to read.

“‘Who wears the pants in the relationship?’ Ohh that’s hard” You thought.

“I know my answer” Dan said confidently

“Really? Alright let’s say our answers on three. One, two, three.”

This caused both of you to say ‘me’ at the same time.

“You’re kidding me right?” You said in disbelief to Dan

“What? Love, I’m always making the decisions”

“Babe, I literally always have to order for us at the cinema because you’re ‘too awkward to talk to new people’”

“Alright, alright I’ll give you that one, no need to share all my secrets on my channel”

Dan took out another piece of paper from the hat, causing yet again one to fall out.

“God, it’s clear to see who the clumsiest one of us is. And that’s hard because I could fall over standing still” You poked out at Dan.
“Leave me alone, you are so mean. So it says, ohhh this is interesting, ‘who is more jealous’?” Dan read.

“Ohhh, that is” You both took a minute to think about it, recalling moments when the other has been jealous. Most of these moments resulting in some seriously fun times together, and just by looking at Dan and the lazy smirk he wore you knew he was thinking about them. You kicked him in the shins, under the view of the camera causing him to jump a little, then answering.

“I feel like you get jealous more often, but it’s not as intense as when I get jealous.”
“Hmmm, yeah I reckon that’s fair to say.” You repeated, it wasn’t hard constantly having beautiful girls running up to your boyfriend, telling him how hot and sometimes the daring ones flirting with him. However, it had happened a few times when we were hanging around with Dan’s friends and one flirts with you, he gets mad.

“We only have a couple questions left” You sadly exclaimed, not wanting this video to be over.

“Let’s hope we haven’t saved the weirdest till last then!” Dan deadpanned

Grabbing one of the last pieces of paper you unfold it and read,

“‘what do I find really fun, that no one else really does?’” You laughed lightly at this weird question, thinking Dan would need a while on this one.

“You watch pimple popping videos” He answered straight away. You sat there with your mouth hanging open, a blush adorned on your cheeks,

“How did you know that? I always try to keep it on the down low” You exclaimed, shocked and slightly embarrassed that he knew

“Sweetheart, we’ve been going out for 2 years, we’ve been living together for 1, there is little that I don’t know about you”

“That’s kind of creepy and really cute at the same time. I knew I chose you for a reason” You hummed

“I’m not some Pokémon woman, don’t objectify me like that” He fired back

“Shut up and read the last question. Because as much as I love doing videos with you I need to cook us dinner, and get it done so it’s ready when Phil comes back from visiting his family.

“Aw look at you, you are literally the only reason we have survived this long. Anyway, here we go and I won’t knock out another question this time.” He took his time in dramatically picking out the question.

“Oh for god’s sake Phil, he’s such a child. It says ‘when did the two of you first sleep together?’”

A deep shade of red engulfs your face and you looked over at Dan with your mouth wide.

“What the hell, he did not just ask that?” You said shocked.

“Yeah you’re right, I’m joking. Lol” Dan admits, handing over the question for you to read aloud.

“It says, ‘Who/When fist said I love You?’ Now that is a cute question” You cooed, recalled that cherished memory that you held very close to your heart.

“Well, I don’t want to spill all the beans about our relationship just yet, so all that you guys will be knowing is that, Y/N said it first. Maybe we can do another gushy relationship story about that some other time. But for now that’s it.” Dan finished off the video and looked at you to continue.

“Thanks guys for watching hope you enjoyed it, and if you did please subscribe and request some more ideas of what we can do next. Byeeee” You finished

“That was so much fun” You turned to Dan, who was already lovingly gazing at you.

“You know I love you right?” He spoke

“Of course, and you know I love you too, so much” You replied inching your face closer to his.

“You know when you told me you loved me, when we were just lying in bed cuddling watching Breaking Bad, I think that that’s the happiest I’ve ever felt.” He confessed. As much as you loved the banter and jokes in this relationship, nothing felt better than Dan confessing his feelings to your, he really did complete you.

“I was so nervous that I had said it too soon, but I’m so glad one of us plucked up the courage to say it” You murmured, now lips a mere centimeter away from each other.

Dan quickly closed the gap between the two of you and soon had his hand on the back of your head pulling you closer. Automatically you brought your hands up to caress his cheeks and you two shared one of the most passionate kisses in your relationship.

Dan gently pushed you back onto the bed and slipped his hand down to your waist, when you suddenly remembered something.

“Dan the camera is still on!”

“Oh fuck yeah, thank God it isn’t a live stream” He jumped up to turn the camera off, leaving it on the side to edit later.

But he only had one thought on his mind now. You. Jumping back next to you on the bed you two finished off what you had started

Green Day songs for when you are feeling ________

Joy/hopeful: 99 Revolutions, 21st Century Breakdown, Carpe Diem, Forever Now, Good Riddance (Time of your life), Holiday, 21 Guns, King for a Day, Last of the American Girls, Minority, Ordinary World, Outlaws, Revolution Radio, See the Light, Somewhere Now, Still Breathing, Sweet 16, Waiting, Welcome to Paradise, ¡Viva la Gloria!

Love: 1,000 Hours, 80, 2,000 Light Years Away, Dry Ice, Fell for you, Hearts Collide, Last Night on Earth, Missing you, Only of you, Redundant, Scattered, See you tonight, Stay the Night, Sweet 16, The one I want, Whatsername, When it’s Time, Youngblood

Anger: Bab’s Uvula Who?, Brat, Christian’s Inferno, East Jesus Nowhere, Letterbomb, F.O.D, Ha Ha You’re Dead, Having a Blast, Horseshoes and Handgrenades, Kill the DJ, Know your Enemy, Platypus(I Hate You), Say Goodbye, Take Back, You Lied

Confusion: A Little Boy Named Train, Are We the Waiting, Armatage Shanks, Coming Clean, Going to Pasalacqua, Jaded, Knowledge, Loss of Control, One for the Razorbacks, One of my lies, The Static Age, Too Dumb to Die, Walking Contradiction, Why do you want him?, X-Kid

Sadness/Pain: Amy, Give me novacaine, Macy’s Day Parade, Misery, No one knows, Outlaws, Pulling Teeth, Restless Heart Syndrome, Wake Me Up When September Ends, Whatsername, Words I Might Have Ate

Pity/Desperation: Brutal Love, Church on Sunday, Emenius Sleepus, Hitchin’ a Ride, Lazy Bones, Misery, Murder City, Oh Love, Paper Lanterns, Pulling Teeth, The Forgotten, Walk Away, ¿Viva La Gloria? (Little Girl)

Disgust: 86, All the Time, Jackass, Nice Guys Finish Last, Platypus (I hate you), Prosthetic Head, Reject, Sick of Me, Stuart and the Ave., The Grouch

Bored: Christie Road, Last Ride In, Lazy Bones, Longview, Rest, Rotting, Sassafras Roots, Tired Of Waiting For You, When I Come Around

Afraid: 16, Don’t wanna fall in love, Don’t leave me, No Pride, Peacemaker, Road to Acceptance, Troubled Times, Warning, X-Kid, Working Class Hero

Anxiety: Basket Case, Brain Stew, Burnout, No Pride, One of My Lies, Panic Song, Stuck With Me, Suffocate, Who Wrote Holden Caulfield?

Alone: Boulevard Of Broken Dreams, Castaway, Disappearing Boy, Jesus Of Suburbia, Misery, Missing You, Suffocate, Walking Alone

Jealousy: Chump, In The End, Nice Guys Finish Last, Paper Lanterns

So much More

-Max allows himself to be ten for just a moment with his odd guardian.-


“Max?” The smaller boy didn’t look up from his game, but David could tell he had his attention. They had learned each other’s body language quite fast.

“May I hug you?” He asked, his voice never once leaving it’s somber tone.

Max’s eyes tore away from his DS,  and maintained eye contact as he plopped his stylus into its slot.

“I-, Um? Are you,” Max looked around their cabin for anything that would cause David to ask such a question, “Okay?”

David looked as fine as he always was, the same smile and demeanor he kept up despite Max’s constant nagging on how annoying it was.

David laughed at the question and he sat down and crossed his legs in front of the couch.

“May I have a hug?” The older male held open his arms, Max hesitantly slid off the couch, leaving the handheld game on the cushion, and stood awkwardly in front of David.

He stared uncertainly at David who waited poised, ready to wrap the boy up in a tight hug.

Max took a deep breath, and closed his eyes as he walked into David’s chest, and almost gasped as David wrapped his arms tight around him.

He had always fought against David’s hugs, but this one felt different than all the others. David’s green hoodie had provided twice the warmth, plus it provided twice the cushion from David’s thing arms. David held him so tight.

Max wondered why he hadn’t let David do this more often.

“Your really mine, Max, aren’t you? Your my kiddo?“ David asked his words muffled by the messy curls that covered half of his face.

“Uh, yeah? You’ve had me for six months now, dumbass.” Max said as though all of this was very obvious.

David chuckled and sat his chin on top of Max’s head. “That mean’s you’re my son, doesn’t it?”

Max was taken back by the question. Not once had he ever thought of their relationship on such an intimate level such as father and son. When anyone said the word ‘Dad’, Max thought of sharp suits and cigar smoke that made the whole house reek.

Max thought of disappointing stares coming from every direction, a night shared long ago by a naive girl and a manipulative older man. He imagines a son who had to suffer for the mistakes two people made so many years ago. David was not even the definitions of what a dad was too Max.

He had a whole definition of his own.

If somewhere to say the word sweet, visions of David would swim in his head. Memories of David baking various treats, all with copious amounts of sugar and icing, stacked high on several trays. David had fussed over his weight back at camp, before he could really monitor the others eating habits. Always making comments on how he would blow away at the rate he was going at. At Max’s third doctor’s visit, the lady had announced Max was only a few pounds away from being a healthy size and David was ecstatic. They celebrated with homemade pizza and ice cream.

And if you said understanding, so many memories would jump out at Max.

When Max first arrived he had nonstop nightmares, some that’d last the entire night leaving him exhausted in the morning, and others that would require him to jolt out of bed in a panic. Those were the night David would lovingly open up the covers to let Max in, and when the temperature began to drop David lovingly made his way out of bed to prepare hot chocolate to soothe his nerves and provide Max with some very ‘sweet’ dreams. The joke had gotten a laugh out of Max.

If you said pride Max would think of their latest camping trip and how David made the best s'mores. David had been setting up the tent while Max collected the firewood. Max had tried to start his first fire while David tried to figure out how to blow up an air mattress without the forgotten pump. When Max had gotten a steady blaze built from twigs and paper, nothing matched the proud grin David had given Max. Max couldn’t stop himself from returning the gesture.

David was not a father, he was so much more.

A father was cold in both touch and demeanor. A father had a son that he considered everything but.

David was a David, and that meant so much more than any title given out by a piece of paper and blood.

Max pulled away to look him in the eyes. David’s hand fell to his shoulder and Max held them there tight.

“I’m not your son because your not my father.” Max’s tone sounded so much more childlike then David was used to, and it was such a surprise to be matched with such a grown up sentence.

David’s shoulder slumped but he kept up his smile, despite the stinging of upcoming tears.

“You’re not my dad, but that’s… That’s okay, because you are something so much better. You’re my David, and that something, so much more physical than a word, it’s right here.” Max grabbed the fabric covering his chest, and used his other hand to copy the movement with David’s sweatshirt.

“It’s right here. You’re my David because you’ve been everything but my father to me. That means so, so much more.” His chest tightened.

“But if you want to do the whole titles, I don’t have to just be your Max.” Max stepped closer, burying himself back in David’s arms.

“I can be your son, David,” Max look back up and saw David’s quivering lip and quickly tried to play off his emotional speech, “But it’s whatever, you don’t have too.”

Max found himself high in the air staring down at David.

“You’re my son, Max! You’re my entire world, you are my happiness, and that makes you my son and I’m your David.” David spun in a circle, drawing dizzy giggles from the ten year old.

“Yes, yes you’re my David!” Max confirmed, hoping that would calm down the other enough to put him down, but he could contain the burst of energy that resonated through his body making him smile and laugh.

He threw Max up in the air and grabbed him to pull him into a hug. They couldn’t help but grin and falling into each others happiness. “My Max!” He cried.

This meant something so much more to the both of them.

David squeezed the boy and fell once more to the floor. Max with his limbs wrapped around David tightly, and David stroking the smooth curls.

“I love you, son.” David whispered after a moment, the sentence feeling so foreign on his lips yet so good.

Max breathed in deeply, every muscle in his body screaming at him to reject the soft words, to counter it with something snide. Max forced himself to be ten for just a moment longer

“I love you too, David.” And it meant so much more.

So once in tenth grade World History, we were split into groups and each group was given an infamous world leader. My group got Ivan the Terrible. The assignment was to research this leader and then create a human statue that depicted something important about the person. In case you didn’t gather from the name, Ivan killed…a lot. So our group came back the next day and we had one person pose with a fake sword like he was about to kill someone. Everybody else pretended to be in various stages of dying. When we came up with the monument we realized that it was kind of lame, so I told my group not to worry about it, that I would make it awesome.
So everybody else gets into position and then I stroll up with a brown paper bag. I pull out a sheet, spread it out and lay down on it. I then pull out an entire 30 ounce bottle of fake blood and dump the full bottle on top of my head.
After we were judged I ran out to get cleaned up before the lecture. The issue was that I was now covered and dripping blood from everywhere. I cannot clean my hands enough to get a grip on a bathroom door. So I run up to one of my other teacher’s classrooms that has a sink in it and kick the door a few times. One of my friends opened the door and almost screamed. I said hi, walked to the sink, washed my hands, and exited the classroom.
The teacher did not receive an explanation until 3 years later.