shakes and sweats

2

Accepting that you’re always second in the line of affection-

…or 10th if you count each dog.

Still working on giveaways, decided to post this old doodle I did when I first introduced Garbage the alley chihuahua lol ;p

anonymous asked:

Hello! These blogs are so super helpful, and yours is here just in time for me to begin writing my story! So thank you so much for your help in advance. I'm writing a story about a soldier that was captured during war. Part of the story is him struggling to trust his therapist enough to open up about what happened. During this time where he refuses to talk to anyone, how would PTSD affect his everyday actions, his thoughts, etc.? Thank you so much. I really appreciate it. Have a great weekend!!!

Hooboy. I’m going to just list several symptoms of PTSD and explain how they would each drain his energy and limit his ability to do things and how to include these in your writing. 

1. Hyper-Arousal

  • Hyper-vigilance: Every little sound and shadow is going to make his brain go into overdrive. It is going to kick his fight-or-flight mode on high and its almost never going to calm down. This is EXTREMELY draining. His brain and body is going to be a coiled spring, ready for danger, at all times. This is physically exhausting and drains spoons incredibly quickly. 
    • Some ways this will change his daily life - he won’t be able to spend as much time in crowds or even just outside his house because there is too much stimulation for him to handle for to long. He probably won’t sleep well because again, all those little noises houses make at night is going to make him panic and lose more spoons - he could combat this by getting a white noise machine. 
  • Emotional Outbursts: Many individuals with PTSD may experience unstable emotional states. 
    • It wouldn’t be odd for him to suddenly feel very angry or irritable with no recognizable reason or target. He may also swing the other way and start crying without any warning. These episodes are extremely draining and there frequency may prevent your character from getting things done. 
  • Lack of Concentration: High levels of distraction, the hyper-vigilance, the adrenaline constantly running through his body is going to make if difficult for your character to concentration for an extended period of time.
    • This lack of concentration may make it difficult for your character to work, attend school, do homework or fill out things like medical forms for doctors appointments. This could lead to him pushing such appointments back because he is unable to prepare for them.

2. Avoidance 

  • Situational Avoidance: Your character is going to try to avoid any situation that might remind him of his trauma.
    • If he was in a tank that was bombed, he may go out of his way to avoid driving. If something happened in a wooded area, he may take a longer route to avoid a similar area because it reminds him of his trauma. This could make your character miss deadlines, appointment times, or cause a significant amount of time to be dedicated to this avoidance which means other things will not get done. 
  • Social Isolation: Another type of avoidance is social avoidance - this means your character may avoid his family and friends, either because he doesn’t have the energy to be social or being around other people cause him to panic. Being forced into these situations would drain his energy very quickly.
    • This may cause him to avoid things like birthday celebrations, holiday parties, any type of gathering. These events are going to be extremely exhausting as your character is already tired and the amount of people and noise are going to exhaust him. 
    • Something else that might influence his social isolation is his PTSD influencing his view of other people - he may begin to mistrust others and feel as if the world is a dangerous place. This mindset is extraordinarily draining and would significantly impact his energy levels. 
  • Triggers: Triggers are sights, sounds, smells, situations, items; pretty much anything that reminds your character of his trauma. 
    • Before he is aware of his triggers, he will most likely stumble upon many of them and suffer from flashbacks or anxiety attacks, which is extremely exhausting.
    • When he knows his triggers, he is going to try his best to avoid them, which may mean changing his routine, getting up earlier to go shopping when it is quieter, not going to fun events like fairs or the movies because he doesn’t want to fun into a trigger. 
    • Triggers are often unavoidable or unexpected, prompting exhausting anxiety attacks or flashbacks multiple times a day, eating up time to get things done and exhausting your character.
      • Consider what his trauma consists of - does it involve guns? If so, it might not be just real guns that can trigger an anxiety attack or flashback. Plastic guns, guns in movies or TV shows, sounds that are similar like a car backfiring or fireworks, the smell of gunpowder, even just something that shoots something, like a Nerf Gun. Think through his potential triggers and then think about all the situations those could be found in - he is going to have to schedule his entire day around avoiding these triggers, especially when he is not actively working with his therapist on his trauma at this point.

3. Flashbacks/Remembering the Trauma

  • Nightmares: When he does fall asleep, he is most likely going to have nightmares. 
    • He may or may not remember the specifics of the nightmare, but he will most likely wake up in a panic, shaking, sweating. It’s going to take him a long time to fall back to sleep, if he even does. If he does fall back to sleep, it may be a very tense sleep, waking up frequently and not allowing his body to relax - this means he is going to wake up in the morning already exhausted, anxious, and running on panic. 
  • Flashbacks: Flashbacks are often one of the stereotypical symptoms of PTSD, however they are extremely common. Flashbacks may happen multiple times a day, at varying severity each time. 
    • One type of flashback is an emotional flashback - these flashbacks only affect the individuals emotional state, not their senses. So if your character is triggered and reminded of his trauma, his emotional state may quickly move to match the emotional state during the trauma - so intense fear, adrenaline, anger, sadness. These intense episodes that may come at anytime, last up to an hour, and are extremely exhausting. 
    • The common type of flashbacks you see in media are sometimes called ‘full flashbacks’ or ‘psychological flashbacks’. This is when the brain believes that it is back during the traumatic event, and the individuals senses - sight, hearing, smell, taste - are going to be taken back to the moment of the trauma. Your character will not be fully in reality at the time and any attempts to touch or otherwise break the individual out of the flashback could result in a negative or fearful reaction. These flashbacks can also last a significant amount of time and be draining. 

Now, you said that this was before your character began working with his therapist, but these symptoms won’t go away suddenly. As your character begins to work through his trauma and develop coping skills, these symptoms may decrease in severity or disappear all together eventually. However, some PTSD sufferers will always have some of these symptoms and have to cope with them. 

I hope this helps!

- Mod Riley

Over and Over

Summary: This is pure, multi-orgasmic porn with Dean. Enjoy.

Warning: smut, overstimulation (sort of)

Word Count: 1600ish

A/N: Just felt like writing some Dean porn. No plot here, lol. XOXO


Dean’s moving at just the right pace.

It’s the ‘you aren’t quite at the orgasm yet, but this will get you there soon’ pace. The slow and steady pace that’s more about going deep and hitting all the right spots that being hard or wild. The pace that makes you shake and sweat like your body is totally under Dean’s control now.

Keep reading

Today I had a teacher tell me that a family member of theirs attempted suicide with pills.
I asked why he didn’t seem more concerned, and he replied with “people who attempt overdose are just attention seeking.”

Tell that to my grandma while she had to shower me for a month because I couldn’t stand after my overdose.

Tell that to my younger cousin who didn’t understand why I slept for three days straight.

Tell that to my bestfriend who saw me cry in every moment I was awake for two weeks after I swallowed those little pieces of hell.

Tell that to my brother who watched me vomit up everything I ate because my stomach was on fire.

Tell that to my teachers who watched me fail my exams because I was so dizzy and out of it I couldn’t stand, let alone concentrate.

Tell that to my mum, who watched me violently shake, sweat, convulse and cry in her arms because I didn’t want to be alive.

Go on, tell them it’s attention seeking. I dare you.

—  (via sighbroken)

‘’Tale as old as time

Song as old as rhyme

Beauty and the Beast’’


If someone thought i wouldn’t draw the dance scene from Tale as Old as Time fic. I honestly sorry bC HERE I AM XDD Animation movies AU’s are my new adiction and @vixenfur and @mikaisatop are the ones I blame for this one U_U


(The bg wasnt draw by me, it was taken from the original movie ;) )

i need to say this

so my results are supposed to appear soon the thing is i really hope i get to pass this year but according to my results in the first semester it’s really difficult to pass this year cause my results are added together and i really did a hard work in the second semester and because of that i am really afraid that it won’t be enough and if i didn’t pass…..no more animating for me……

i am shaking and sweating and my stomach hurts so much because of this i really want to pass this year….

Day One: Homesickness

Thought I’d start off @vldangstweek with something that turns from angsty to fluffy, just because, based on the rest of this weeks prompts, it’s gonna get waaayyyy angstier (knowing me, anyway). Everything will be tagged with vldangstweek and any of my usual angst tags (angst, langst, klangst, etc)

Let my children go home, they’re stressed and tired (under a cut for length).


“Come on Lance, one more time! You need to defeat this gladiator before I can allow anyone to go to dinner!” Allura shouted down from the observation deck.

The quiet groans of his teammates filled his head and Lance winced, stepping back to stand his ground against the bot attacking him. His vision wavered over his helmet and his fingers trembled against his bayard, unable to form it because of the close range combat style. He grunted, rolling as the bot dove for him, sweeping it’s legs out from under it and sending it to the ground. Briefly, he heard Hunk’s cheer of encouragement in his comms, and then the bot was back up again, charging at him.

Lance sighed, side stepping the bot and pressing his shaking hands to his head, trying to stop the swimming feeling in his brain, the burn at the back of his throat and eyes, the tightness in his chest. He took a hit, hard, and fell backwards onto his ass, teeth clacking together.

“Dude, seriously, we’re starving!” Pidge called out. “You need to beat this!”

Lance took a shaky breath, shooting a glare at the deck. “You want me to beat it? Fine. I’ll beat it.”

Before the bot could get any closer, Lance whipped out his bayard, transforming it in the process and ignoring Allura’s shouts of this being a hand to hand fight. Within seconds, the bot was in a smoking heap on the floor and Lance was shaking, sweat curling down his forehead. Allura stormed out of the observation deck and onto the main floor, eyebrows furrowed. “That was not the assignment, Lance. You’ll have to do it again.”

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

Lance ripped off his helmet and chucked it to the ground. When he looked up, Allura took a step back at the ferocity in his face, the tears in his eyes. “I said, no. I’m not doing this bull shit anymore. They’re not either,” he snapped, pointing towards the deck. “You don’t get to treat us this way, we’re the only reason you’re not dead or still in those stupid pods. You called us family, Allura.”

His voice broke and his lip quivered as he stumbled back, shaking his head. “You don’t get to treat family like this. Not when we’re doing all of this for you.”

He swallowed and spun on his heel, storming from the room. Allura hesitated, glancing back at the deck only to find the rest of the paladins and Coran standing behind her. She studied the group, noted the lines on their faces and the bags under their eyes, and frowned. “Do you all agree with him?”

They remained silent for a moment, glancing at each other. Hunk spoke up first, his voice gentle. “Yeah. I do, at least.”

“Me too,” Pidge piped up, staring at the floor and fiddling with her bayard.

Keith nodded silently, rubbing a hand up and down one arm and looking off to the side. Hunk huffed. “Allura, we…I would say we’re homesick, but I don’t know if that covers all of us.”

“We’re Earth sick,” Keith offered. “And Lance…”

Shiro spoke for the first time. “Lance has the most family to miss out of the five of us.”

“And honestly?” Hunk muttered. “You yelling all the time, you pushing him, and us, all the time? No breaks, no relaxation time at all? I’m amazed he didn’t snap before this.”

Allura swallowed. “I’m…”

“It’s okay,” Hunk promised. “We understand, you want to stop the Galra, stop Zarkon.”

“But you have to remember that we’re all volunteering to do this,” Pidge said, fidgeting from foot to foot. “There’s nothing keeping anyone here other than empathy. Don’t give Lance a reason to stop caring, or he will leave.”

Allura bit her lip and glanced over her shoulder. “I should go-”

“No,” Keith said firmly, stepping forwards and resting a hand on Allura’s arm. “We got this. You two go get dinner.”

She and Coran studied the paladins for a moment before nodding in agreement and leaving the training deck.

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Characteristics & Traits of Borderline Personality Disorder

Alienation - The act of cutting off or interfering with an individual’s relationships with others.

“Always” and “Never” Statements - “Always” and “Never” Statements are declarations containing the words “always” or “never”. They are commonly used but rarely true.

Anger - People who suffer from personality disorders often feel a sense of unresolved anger and a heightened or exaggerated perception that they have been wronged, invalidated, neglected or abused.

Baiting - A provocative act used to solicit an angry, aggressive or emotional response from another individual.

Blaming - The practice of identifying a person or people responsible for creating a problem, rather than identifying ways of dealing with the problem.

Bullying - Any systematic action of hurting a person from a position of relative physical, social, economic or emotional strength.

Catastrophizing - The habit of automatically assuming a “worst case scenario” and inappropriately characterizing minor or moderate problems or issues as catastrophic events.

Chaos Manufacture - Unnecessarily creating or maintaining an environment of risk, destruction, confusion or mess.

Cheating - Sharing a romantic or intimate relationship with somebody when you are already committed to a monogamous relationship with someone else.

Circular Conversations - Arguments which go on almost endlessly, repeating the same patterns with no resolution.

Cognitive Dissonance - A psychological term for the discomfort that most people feel when they encounter information which contradicts their existing set of beliefs or values. People who suffer from personality disorders often experience cognitive dissonance when they are confronted with evidence that their actions have hurt others or have contradicted their stated morals.

“Control-Me” Syndrome - This describes a tendency which some people have to foster relationships with people who have a controlling narcissistic, antisocial or “acting-out” nature.

Denial - Believing or imagining that some painful or traumatic circumstance, event or memory does not exist or did not happen.

Dependency - An inappropriate and chronic reliance by an adult individual on another individual for their health, subsistence, decision making or personal and emotional well-being.

Depression - When you feel sadder than you think you should, for longer than you think you should - but still can’t seem to break out of it - that’s depression. People who suffer from personality disorders are often also diagnosed with depression resulting from mistreatment at the hands of others, low self-worth and the results of their own poor choices.

Dissociation - Dissociation is a psychological term used to describe a mental departure from reality.

Domestic Theft - Consuming or taking control of a resource or asset belonging to (or shared with) a family member, partner or spouse without first obtaining their approval.

Emotional Blackmail - A system of threats and punishments used in an attempt to control someone’s behaviors.

Engulfment - An unhealthy and overwhelming level of attention and dependency on another person, which comes from imagining or believing one exists only within the context of that relationship.

Sense of Entitlement - An unrealistic, unmerited or inappropriate expectation of favorable living conditions and favorable treatment at the hands of others.

False Accusations - Patterns of unwarranted or exaggerated criticism directed towards someone else.

Favoritism - Favoritism is the practice of systematically giving positive, preferential treatment to one child, subordinate or associate among a family or group of peers.

Fear of Abandonment - An irrational belief that one is imminent danger of being personally rejected, discarded or replaced.

Harassment - Any sustained or chronic pattern of unwelcome behavior by one individual towards another.

High and Low-Functioning - A High-Functioning Personality-Disordered Individual is one who is able to conceal their dysfunctional behavior in certain public settings and maintain a positive public or professional profile while exposing their negative traits to family members behind closed doors. A Low-Functioning Personality-Disordered Individual is one who is unable to conceal their dysfunctional behavior from public view or maintain a positive public or professional profile.

Hoovers & Hoovering - A Hoover is a metaphor taken from the popular brand of vacuum cleaners, to describe how an abuse victim trying to assert their own rights by leaving or limiting contact in a dysfunctional relationship, gets “sucked back in” when the perpetrator temporarily exhibits improved or desirable behavior.

Hysteria - An inappropriate over-reaction to bad news or disappointments, which diverts attention away from the real problem and towards the person who is having the reaction.

Identity Disturbance - A psychological term used to describe a distorted or inconsistent self-view

Impulsiveness - The tendency to act or speak based on current feelings rather than logical reasoning.

Infantilization - Treating a child as if they are much younger than their actual age.

Invalidation - The creation or promotion of an environment which encourages an individual to believe that their thoughts, beliefs, values or physical presence are inferior, flawed, problematic or worthless.

Lack of Object Constancy - An inability to remember that people or objects are consistent, trustworthy and reliable, especially when they are out of your immediate field of vision.

Learned Helplessness - Learned helplessness is when a person begins to believe that they have no control over a situation, even when they do.

Magical Thinking - Looking for supernatural connections between external events and one’s own thoughts, words and actions.

Moments of Clarity - Spontaneous periods when a person with a Personality Disorder becomes more objective and tries to make amends.

Mood Swings - Unpredictable, rapid, dramatic emotional cycles which cannot be readily explained by changes in external circumstances.

Neglect - A passive form of abuse in which the physical or emotional needs of a dependent are disregarded or ignored by the person responsible for them.

Normalizing - Normalizing is a tactic used to desensitize an individual to abusive, coercive or inappropriate behaviors. In essence, normalizing is the manipulation of another human being to get them to agree to, or accept something that is in conflict with the law, social norms or their own basic code of behavior.

No-Win Scenarios - When you are manipulated into choosing between two bad options

Panic Attacks - Short intense episodes of fear or anxiety, often accompanied by physical symptoms, such as hyperventilating, shaking, sweating and chills.

Parentification - A form of role reversal, in which a child is inappropriately given the role of meeting the emotional or physical needs of the parent or of the family’s other children.

Passive-Aggressive Behavior - Expressing negative feelings in an unassertive, passive way.

Pathological Lying - Persistent deception by an individual to serve their own interests and needs with little or no regard to the needs and concerns of others. A pathological liar is a person who habitually lies to serve their own needs.

Projection - The act of attributing one’s own feelings or traits to another person and imagining or believing that the other person has those same feelings or traits.

Push-Pull - A chronic pattern of sabotaging and re-establishing closeness in a relationship without appropriate cause or reason.

Raging, Violence and Impulsive Aggression - Explosive verbal, physical or emotional elevations of a dispute. Rages threaten the security or safety of another individual and violate their personal boundaries.

Sabotage - The spontaneous disruption of calm or status quo in order to serve a personal interest, provoke a conflict or draw attention.

Scapegoating - Singling out an individual or group for unmerited negative treatment or blame.

Selective Competence - The practice of demonstrating different levels of intelligence or ability depending on the situation or environment.

Selective Memory and Selective Amnesia - The use of memory, or a lack of memory, which is selective to the point of reinforcing a bias, belief or desired outcome.

Self-Harm - Self Harm, also known as self-mutilation, self-injury or self-abuse is any form of deliberate, premeditated injury inflicted on oneself, common among adolescents and among people who suffer from Borderline Personality Disorder. The most common forms are cutting and poisoning/overdosing.

Self-Loathing - An extreme hatred of one’s own self, actions or one’s ethnic or demographic background.

Self-Victimization - Self-Victimization or “playing the victim” is the act of casting oneself as a victim in order to control others by soliciting a sympathetic response from them or diverting their attention away from abusive behavior.

Shaming - The difference between blaming and shaming is that in blaming someone tells you that you did something bad, in shaming someone tells you that you are something bad.

Situational Ethics - A philosophy which promotes the idea that, when dealing with a crisis, the end justifies the means and that a rigid interpretation of rules and laws can be set aside if a greater good or lesser evil is served by doing so.

Splitting - The practice of regarding people and situations as either completely “good” or completely “bad”.

Thought Policing - A process of interrogation or attempt to control another individual’s thoughts or feelings.

Threats - Inappropriate, intentional warnings of destructive actions or consequences.

Triangulation - Gaining an advantage over perceived rivals by manipulating them into conflicts with each other.

Triggering - Small, insignificant or minor actions, statements or events that produce a dramatic or inappropriate response.

Tunnel Vision - A tendency to focus on a single concern, while neglecting or ignoring other important priorities.

2
Let me tell you something about Gillian Anderson. This woman is genuinely the sweetest person I have ever met. I’ve had the privilege of meeting Gillian three times: at Toronto Fan Expo in September 2015, after Streetcar in 2016, and again at Toronto Fan Expo in September 2016. 

So, I have panic disorder. I’m really bad in big places full of people, which essentially describes a convention. Needless to say, the first time I went to a convention to meet Gillian, I had a really severe panic attack. I was shaking and crying and I sweat all of my makeup off. Anyway, when it finally began to subside, I decided to wait in line to get an autograph from Gillian. I gave her a handwritten book that I had put together full of letters that people wanted me to give to her. She was so incredibly grateful and kept telling me how sweet it was that I had taken the time to write all of the letters out in the book. At this point, I was still completely red and shaking a little and you could tell that I had been crying. You know what Gillian did? She just reached out her hand, with the most compassionate look on her face, and just held my hand in hers. My hand was shaking a ridiculous amount and she just held it so gently and looked at me with the sweetest, most empathetic expression. I think it’s extremely important to remember that she, too, suffers from anxiety attacks, and yet she still goes to events like Fan Expo to meet us.

The second time I met Gillian was on my birthday in May 2016. She signed after her performance of Streetcar - which, by the way, was the most incredible performance I’ve ever witnessed. Now, it’s important to note that the theatre had a rule about the actors not writing anything for their fans other than their signature (weird, I know). I figured I’d try anyway and when it was my turn to go up, I asked her if she could write “I want to believe” for me. She apologized and said that she couldn’t, and then signed my program. I wasn’t really expecting for her to be able to write it for me anyway, so I just shrugged it off and gave her the gift that I had for her: a first edition, first print copy of A Streetcar Named Desire. When I gave it to her, she was completely floored. She kept laughing in disbelief and leaned forward and rested her head on the counter for a bit. She was concerned because “this would have been so expensive!” but I told her that I wanted to give it to her because of the huge impact she’d had on me. Once again, she held my hand in hers, and told me that she would write “I want to believe” for me. She did, and I now have it tattooed on my ribs.

The third time I met her, at Toronto Fan Expo in September 2016, the first thing she said when I went up to her at the autograph table was, “have I met you before?” I said yes and she told me that she remembered meeting me. She then told me that the first edition of Streetcar was one of the sweetest gifts she had ever received. Then, I told her that I was fully prepared for her to roast me for it, but I showed her my tattoo of “I want to believe” in her handwriting. She was really sweet about it and told me that I’d chosen a good spot. She also brought up the book that I had given her the year before (how on earth she remembered that, I do not know). It is also so incredible to me that, out of literally hundreds of thousands of fans, she remembered who I was.

I’ve left out so much, but in conclusion to this long-ass post, Gillian Anderson is literally the kindest human being I’ve ever met. She’s so patient and empathetic and caring. She is one of the reasons that I’m alive to this day.

Pulse Part 10

Part 9

Genre: Light angst, fluff if you squint, mostly a filler
Words: 2,250
Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: Injuries, mentions of an aggressive stalker
Summary: Soulmate AU in which one’s heartbeat becomes perfectly in sync with their soulmate’s once they meet.

Originally posted by fuckyeahtonystark


“What the hell were you thinking?”

The words were out of his lips the moment the door had shut behind Peter. They were sharp, and his tongue stressed the curse word, caressing it in a way that drew your attention to his anger. It was obvious in his tone, in the tension of his jaw…

But his eyes told a whole different story. The blue in them, normally sparkling like seawater inspiring you to dive in, looked so dull. They had a panicked look to them now, but they also looked emotionally exhausted, as if behind his eyes, deep down in the core of his being, he didn’t have much left to give. He looked so tired, and the dark circles under his eyes proved him to be.

His shoulders were slumped forward, and he looked as if he were about to fall at any second. But as your eyes traveled toward his hands, you felt guilty, because they were trembling by his sides.

You knew he must have seen you notice because in the next second, his hands were balled into fists to stop the shaking and he was looking away from you.

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stop for a minute (and be by my side)  // tom holland oneshot

Summary: Tom comes home from the press tour. His girlfriend is waiting for him. (smut).

read on ao3

He’s been gone too long.

The press tour took two, nearly three weeks, but it was too long. She still wakes reaching out in the bed, searching for a warm body and finding nothing. The apartment is quiet, and still, without him to fill it, doing stupid, unnecessary flips off pieces of furniture and humming to himself as he makes dinner and cooing at Tessa. There are phone calls, of course, and SnapChats, and blurry Skype talks, but he’s busy, and she’s busy, and the time difference is crazy. She changes the sheets one day, and realises only afterwards that the new linen smells only of her, none of Tom’s cologne or shower gel to remind her that she’s not alone, even in sleep. The weather is bad, seemingly mourning his disappearance. It’s been weeks, and it’s been too long.

His flight changes, and she has a work thing, so she comes home late to a quiet flat, the lights off. But where, in the past few weeks, the apartment had lacked warmth, had felt empty and bare, there is a promise in the air, a reminder that there is another person here, living and breathing and waiting for her. In the bedroom, there is a shape under the covers, taking up the side of the bed that had been cold and sparse when she left that morning. She can hear Tom’s quiet breathing, the presence of him, real and there. She undresses quickly, eager to touch his skin, to take his warmth without clothing in the way. He’s warmed the cold sheets, the portable heater he is, and she slips in, sticking to her side of the bed for a moment to just witness him.

He is fast asleep, exhausted from travel, but he’s at peace. His face is clear, his eyelashes resting gently on his cheeks. The gold of the thin chain of his necklace glints in the low light of the room, the strength of his shoulders a contrast against the soft bed linen. His arm reaches out across the bed, bracelets gathered at his wrist from the places he’s been, faded from showers and planes, as if he knew she would be returning, and he wanted to touch her first. His fingers steeple on the white of the duvet, waiting for her.

She takes Tom’s hand, feels it move with her, curl into her, fingers linking. He makes a soft sound in his chest, and stirs, opening up his body for her to press against. He smells like an airplane, but underneath there is the soothing sense of his aftershave, of his soap, of something that she’s only ever been able to link to him. She lets him wake up slowly, indulges herself in touching him, his bare chest, up the side of his ribcage, just softly enough to tickle him, so his mouth crooks into a grin.

 “Stop,” he mumbles, thick with sleep, but it’s teasing, and he pulls her in closer.

 She lets her hand travel to his back, feels the movement in the cords of muscle as he shapes his body to hers, slipping a knee between her thighs, gathering her up close to him. He’s scooped her up, tucked her in, until there’s barely any of her skin left that isn’t touching his. She watches his eyelids flicker, promises of brown eyes, until he’s there, awake, conscious, and smiling at her, watching her from his place on the pillow. His face is soft with sleep, his blinking lazy, his movements lazier.

 “Hello,” she says, a whisper, too much to say and settling for too little. He understands though, because he shifts close enough that she can’t keep him in focus. A brush of his nose against hers, a whisper of breath, and then he’s kissing her, good and proper. It’s clumsy, this close, and sleepy, but it’s warm and familiar. They’ve long figured out how they fit together. It’s good. It’s so good. To taste him, to feel him, to have his body react to hers. Tom makes soft sounds into her mouth, moans from his chest as his body presses closer, limbs twining under the sheets. Her name is like a prayer in his mouth as his hands find the band of her underwear, struggling to push it down her legs.

 “Please,” he says against her jaw where he leaves sloppy kisses, distracted by the warmth of her body, the rejoicing of having it against him again.

 “I know,” she whispers, their hands meeting and fumbling under the covers as she rids herself of her underwear, kicking it down to the bottom of the bed, “I know.”

 She’s heady with having her boy back, feeling him, knowing him again. His hips rock against her, the slide of skin making her shiver. Tom’s voice is muffled against her collarbone as he laves his tongue over her shoulder.

 “Missed you,” he mumbles, “Missed this.”

 She tangles a hand in his hair, feels the cool of the pillow under her cheek as she tilts her head back for him to kiss over the arch of her neck, feel her stuttering pulse under his lips. He knows her inside out, what she likes, what she’ll react to, and his hand slips down her belly all too easily. He kisses her again as his fingers curl inside her, thumb rubbing against her knot of nerves to make her breath stick in her chest. It’s a luxury to be able to touch him, to feel him, and she appeases herself, her hands moving over his body, never settling in one place for long.

Their bodies shift and arch and writhe. It’s more than just feeling him, it’s hearing him, it’s seeing him, it’s smelling him, it’s tasting him, all at once, after so long denied. His voice in her ear as she tucks her face into the crook of his neck, talking nonsense that makes it hard to think clearly.

 “I love you, I missed you, there you go, darling, there you go,” his voice is thick, and rough, and she comes looking up at him, her body wrapped in his, a safe, warm place to completely come apart.

 She pants for a moment, his fingers still stroking her, careful to her sensitivity. Tom waits for her, like he always does, like the kind soul he is. He keeps her alight with purposeful touches. A brush over her breasts, a lazy kiss over her nipple, a glide of a hand over her stomach.

 She reaches down when she’s ready, can feel him against her leg, ready, waiting, desperate but trying to contain it. She fumbles in a bedside draw for a loose condom, the heat of her body pressed over his as she leans over him making him shudder. He distracts her by dropping kisses across her breasts, so her fingers shake as she tears the package open.

 When they’re ready, he collects her again, under him this time, the weight of his body intoxicating, a reminder of everything she’s missed, of everything she can have again. He settles home deep inside her. It’s been a little while, and she touches his face, tucks hair behind his ear while they wait for her to adjust. Tom shakes with the restraint. Sweat shines on his strong chest. Her body opens for him, languid, pliant, welcoming him back.

 They find a rhythm, a dance they never forgot. Tom’s arms bracket her, the heels of his hands pressing hard into the mattress. One of her legs lies loose around his waist, holding him close. He licks up her neck, breathes into her skin. She shivers, and is set aflame, burning up for him, ignited by all he gives to her.

 “Tom,” she says, a chant for the revered, “Tom.”

He groans from deep in his chest, dropping his head so the tips of his hair brushes over her chest, bowing to her. She palms his shoulder, writhes under him.

“Oh, Tom,” she gasps, and shatters. She sees nothing but the blue of his eyes, the red of his mouth, feels the slickness of their skin, hears his moans and calls of her name as he follows her lead, his face crammed into her neck, his body so close to hers she doesn’t know where they separate.

It’s very late. The city sleeps around them. The linen has been disturbed by their activities, but they rest under a sheet, limbs tangled. Hair is lovingly brushed off faces, lips are kissed. The apartment is filled again.

i love sickfics okay i am forcing this upon you

“Lance!” Shiro’s stern voice sounded muffled as Lance took a breath. He was having trouble concentrating, and it felt like he was fading in and out of consciousness. He felt beads of sweat on his forehead and hastily wiped them away, trying to focus on piloting Blue.

“Lance, we need to separate to distract them,” Shiro prompted, his voice sounding muffled still. Lance swallowed and blinked away the dizziness before responding.

“Roger that,” Lance managed, hoping his voice didn’t sound too awful. He had little energy to speak, and he used all he had to make sure he sounded normal.

“Lance, go to the right, I’ll go to the left, Keith go in front, Pidge go above, and Hunk, you just fly around them in circles,” Shiro ordered.

“Are you sure that’ll work?” Hunk questioned doubtfully. Lance suppressed a sneeze.

“It’ll have to. Let’s move!” Shiro demanded. Lance blearily watched the paladins fly into their places, and slowly followed suit and piloted Blue to the right.

Lance felt his heart race and sweat dripped down onto his nose. His breathing was faster than he wanted it to be, and he took off his helmet to wipe the sweat away. It was no use, he was already drenched in it.

Lance was sure that he was sick. He felt subpar the other day, but he thought it was just from stress and being tired, so he slept it off. He was dead wrong.

Lance was shivering, but sweating at the same time. His face felt hot and he couldn’t stop coughing.

Lance’s mind has been so foggy, he hasn’t even been moving Blue very much. He’s been flying to the right, and almost ended up out of range since he wasn’t focusing.

Lance felt his lion sway in circles, and quickly but lethargically lunged to the controls, trying to gain control of Blue. It only made it worse, and Lance realized that Blue was flying fine.

Before Lance could think of anything else that could’ve been wrong, he passed out and fell to the floor of his lion. Blue shifted into autopilot and landed them somewhere safe and hidden, making sure that nothing got to the ill blue paladin.

“Where’d Lance go? He’s out of range,” Pidge questioned, flying her lion down to attract the Galra fleet’s attention before springing up again.

“He’s supposed to be distracting them with us,” Keith muttered, flying towards the fleet from the front and then sharply turning away when they fired a shot towards the red lion.

“Wait a second,” Shiro mumbled, looking at the map his lion was showing him. The blue dot that represented Lance was blinking and stationary.

“Lance isn’t moving, and his lion’s sending out some kind of distress signal,” Shiro pointed out.

“Keith, go find Lance,” Shiro ordered suddenly, gripping his lion’s controls to distract the Galra fleet.

“Are you sure you can make do without me?” Keith questioned worriedly.

“Someone has to make sure Lance’s okay,” Shiro pointed out. Keith sighed reluctantly, and grabbed Red’s controls, flying his lion to where Blue was.

“Alright Lance, where are you,” Keith muttered, eyeing the map every few seconds to make sure he was headed in the right direction. The red lion flew into the cave where Blue was, landing and ejecting Keith.

Keith dusted off his paladin armor and huffed, looking at the blue lion. Blue seemed to be in great shape, so why did she have an emergency landing and use her distress signal?

“Lance?” Keith called, entering the helm of the blue lion. He gasped when he saw that Lance was unconscious and on the floor. Keith gently moved his body so Lance’s back was rested against the wall.

“Oh no,” Keith muttered, studying the blue paladin. His skin was pale, and he was sweating and shivering. Keith placed the back of his hand on Lance’s forehead to discover he had a raging fever.

“Guys?” Keith called into the intercom.

“What’s going on?” Shiro questioned, sounding distracted.

“Lance is shaking, sweating, unconscious, and he has a raging fever,” Keith replied, trying to think of ways to rouse him from unconsciousness.

“Oh no, that’s not good,” Shiro replied. Keith sighed, searching Blue for a water bottle or something.

“We’ll be there soon, we’ve almost got this covered,” Shiro addressed. Keith muttered a response before taking off his helmet. Keith rummaged around Blue until he found a water bottle. It was small, but it would do the job.

Keith found a cleaning rag in the corner and grabbed it, drenching it in cold water. He wrung out the rag and draped it across Lance’s forehead. Just moments later, Lance opened his eyes and coughed.

“Oh thank God,” Keith sighed heavily in relief. Lance coughed again, his tired body doubling over. He groaned and leaned back against the wall, sniffling.

“What happened?” Lance muttered, looking around Blue and realizing that he was no longer in the air, he was on the floor and in a cave somewhere.

“You must’ve passed out. Blue shifted into autopilot and landed you guys in here,” Keith explained, grabbing the damp rag from Lance’s forehead and pouring more water over it before wringing it out again. Keith draped it back over Lance’s forehead, and Lance sighed at its cool touch.

“You’re in rough shape,” Keith muttered, looking the blue paladin up and down. Lance scoffed bitterly but was interrupted by a harsh cough.

“Thanks,” Lance replied, his voice scratchy.

“Keith?” Shiro’s quiet voice sounded from Keith’s helmet which was set off to the side. Keith picked it up and swiftly placed it over his head, pressing the intercom button on the side.

“Yeah? What’s going on?” Keith questioned.

“We’re on our way to your location, stay put,” Shiro ordered before going offline. Keith sighed in relief. Lance looked confused, but before he could ask what was going on, another harsh cough wracked his body.

“Everyone’s on their way, Allura and Coran have been alerted and they’re on their way as well,” Keith assured.

“Is the mission over?” Lance asked, his sick voice low and quiet.

“For now, you need to get better before we do anything else,” Keith pointed out. There was a moment of silence before Keith looked at Lance with sudden hostility.

“Why didn’t you tell us you weren’t feeling well?” Keith questioned, his voice angry.

“I did,” Lance replied defensively.

“Oh, pffftt, when?” Keith questioned hotly in reply.

“This morning?” Lance replied, his statement sounding more like a question to get his point across. Keith raised an eyebrow, urging Lance to explain.

“‘Hey guys, I don’t feel very good, I’m gonna take it easy today,’ is what I said,” Lance added. Keith raised both eyebrows to indicate he still had no idea where this was going.

“Does ‘C’mon Lance, we’re all tired. Suck it up, let’s go’ ring a bell?” Lance questioned, attitude clear in his tone, despite sounding sick and tired. Keith immediately looked guilty and his eyes shot down to the floor.

“Yeah,” He muttered, pouting. Lance coughed harshly again for about 10 seconds, his face turning red before he could stop to take a breath.

“To be fair, I didn’t feel as bad this morning as I do now,” Lance replied. Keith was about to say something, but he heard the castle outside and saw the other lions waiting for them.

“Can you fly Blue?” Keith questioned, helping Lance up. Lance wobbled and coughed, leaning onto the pilot chair for support when his world spun again.

“I could try,” Lance responded, swallowing as he sat down in the pilot chair. Keith nodded briskly before leaving and going into the red lion. Lance sighed and his shaky hands fumbled with the controls, taking a minute before finally exiting the cave and flying into his hangar in the castle.

The other paladins, Coran, and Allura were waiting for Lance to exit his lion. Lance huffed as he slowly stood up, quickly throwing his arms to the pilot chair to catch himself when he grew dizzy. He wobbled out of the blue lion, and everyone’s faces fell when they saw Lance.

“Oh my God, you look awful,” Pidge pointed out, her eyebrows high. Lance sniffled and a harsh cough wracked his body for the thousandth time that day, almost knocking him over.

“I think I’m gonna go in my room for now,” Lance muttered.

“You do that,” Shiro replied, patting Lance’s shoulder gently as to not knock him off balance as he wobbled slowly down the hallway. His tired body slumped as he opened his bedroom door.

Lance slept a lot the next few days, and whenever he came out of his room to grab a snack or a meal, everyone apologized profusely for not listening when he said he felt under the weather. Lance accepted their apologies, assuring them that it was okay.

Keith spoiled Lance endlessly with soup, water, and medicine, he made a swift recovery after a few days. Lance thanked Keith for taking care of him, to which Keith just said, “You’d do the same for me” in reply.

After that, whenever Lance said he wasn’t feeling up to something, he was bombarded with questions like, “Are you sick?” or “Are you okay?” “Do you have a fever?” “Do you need medical attention?” Lance would just chuckle and say he was tired, and then he laughed again when everyone sighed in relief.

Lance was glad that his fellow paladins cared for him so much. He knew that if he ever felt under the weather again, he would be in good hands.

You’re My Mission.

(Hey so I was wondering if you could do a winter solider x (fem)reader where the reader is kidnapped and wiped, and taught to fight and be deadly, and at one point the solider is told that he can do whatever he pleases to the reader(she’s always had a crush on him) and he knows this, and at one point his sexual urges are interfering so they tell him to do whatever. Thanks! )

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Smut, Sexual activity.)

Requested: Anonymous.

(Y/n-Your name.)

A/N: SO I stayed up all night thinking about this story. I’m gonna add my own little twist on it. I actually really like this request so If it goes well i might do a part two so If yall want a part two just ask.)  


Originally posted by malinknowsit


“Take that side!.” You yelled at Cap, Cap obliged, as he ran around the car–ducking behind it.
“Y/n whats your status?”, “Y/N?”, 
You felt something hit you, causing to fall and pass out.


Your eyes fluttered open, bright lights blinded you. “She’s awake..” A unknown voice spoke, you tried moving, but your arms were tied down. Just than the chair you were laying back on started raising up. “Y/n..” The man next to you smiled, You just kept your eyes peeled on the ground, “Soldat!.” A another man yelled, Just than you saw him walk into the room. Bucky Barnes A.k.a the Winter Soldier. 
Him and the man who called him in, whispered a few things. Bucky turned his head towards you, he had a smug look on his face. Your heart started beating super fast, it felt like it was gonna explode. You looked down at your arm and noticed and I.V in it, it had blue liquid flowing through it. “Lets move her!.” A man who looked like a doctor snapped his fingers,two men untied you. “Big mistake.” You whispered, Grabbing one of their guns, and kicking at both their legs, making them lose their balance. “Where am I?” You pointed the gun at the doctor, “Now Y/N is this really what you want?”, “I think it is.” You smirked, You soon where picked up and thrown to the wall. “Fuck..” You hissed.
~

Hours had passed, you were having cold sweats, shaking uncontrollably. You were backed into a corner.. You bit at your nails, scared. Not knowing what was going on. “Y/n, come.” a man in a uniform opened the barred doors, you shook your head. “NOW!.” He hit his baton against the bars, causing you to jump up and walk out. 
Bucky was standing at the end of the aisle. 
You were pushed closer to him, Bucky pulled out a knife from his pocket. “What’s going on?” You looked at the guards, “You two are fighting.” They all laughed, Bucky started walking closer to you–as you started walking farther from him. 

….
You blacked out from what happened next, you finally came to your senses. You saw blood on the floor. Did you kill him? Bucky was laying on the ground, you couldn’t tell. You slowly crawled over to him–checking his pulse. His metal arm reached up and started choking you. “This isn’t over.” He growled, letting you go. You took in a breath… what was happening. 
~

You sat on the floor of your cell. No one was around. It was silent, you could literally hear a pen drop miles away. 

After fighting Bucky, you wanted to know what he meant by this isn’t over. You just sighed, laying back on the floor—Closing your eyes. 

Morning arose, and once again the same guard woke you up. You groaned, walking out. “Is this what prison is like?” you joked, “Kind of.” He pushed you a long. 
~
You arrived in a small cafeteria, Bucky was at a table in the far back. No one else was really in here. But two guards. After looking around, you sat down on the cold metal chair. “Not Hungry y/n?”, You just shook your head at the guard, he shrugged and walked off. 

After breakfast, they pulled you back into the operating room, where they sat you back down on the chair you had woken up on before. “Ready for phase two?” The doctor smiled at you, You balled up your fist, and spit in his face. “Eat me.” You growled. A guard walked over to you, but was soon pushed back by Bucky. “Out!.” He yelled at everyone–while they did as told. You looked over at him, his eyes gave no expression as usual. “Why me?” You asked, but he didn’t say anything, you threw your head back onto the chair–as Bucky stood over you. The lights darkened…  Your heart raced, and all you could hear was Buck’s breathing. You felt his hands move to your legs, you tried pushing him off, but once again you were tied down. “Bucky please.”, He ran his metal arm across your inner thigh– Only for him to pull down your bottoms with one swift motion, He was now leaning over you… “Your my mission.” He growled. You felt his member enter, You wanted to cry out, but you kept shut. His breathing picked up, as you tried concealing  yours.The restraints around your arms, soon loosed enough for you to pull them off. You grabbed onto Bucky, trying to push him off–he grabbed both your arms, holding them above your head. “Don’t hide it.” He whispered.. You’ve liked him for awhile. But this isn’t how you planned it. 

His thrusts became harder, your legs weaker. His moans got sloppier. And you knew he was close. He started leaving rough kisses on your neck, it felt amazing. But you shook it off. “AH!.” He finally released, he took in a breath and laid there over you for a few minuets.. “Next time you will comply.” He got off you– cleaning him self up and walking out. 

college boyfriend!minghao

Originally posted by mountean

  • bless the cutie that requested animal shelter volunteer minghao, i ended up meshing it with another request for college bf!minghao bc i can do whatever i want
  • sfklasjd jk jk
  • now, minghao has always had a strong connection with animals
  • ever since he was a kid, he always just had this intense empathy for animals, so much so that it kind of drove his parents crazy???
  • like minghao would grieve for hours if he accidentally stepped on a bug, or he’d take a whole hour out of his morning when he knows he has to get to school just to help a momma dog and her pups get somewhere safe away from traffic
  • i mean the boy just loves animals to death
  • loves them more than humans tbh
  • so it’s no surprise that minghao became an avid animal shelter volunteer from high school well into his college career

Keep reading

Some Idiot: Creepastas aren’t scary. It’s all stupid stuff like dead bart and jeff the killer. There’s nothing creepy about them.

Me:

Idiot: *starts shaking and sweating and has to leave the room*

9

Dates S01E04  “Erica & Kate”  - Kate  3/?






—–you don’t have to read this, But I really have to say this—–

I must have done something right, because someone stole my gifs. The feeling seeing people spread someone REPOST my gifs on my dash at least once a day is awful. And if tumblr just ignore my report, there’s pretty much nothing I can do about it.

Except for quit tumblr and demolish dozens of gif sets in my draft.(imagine the extra time I could nap or just do nothing) But that’s going to be a lousy revenge, cuz yeah, no one cares, and that’s not gonna hurt anybody but me,  dozens of gif sets means many hours of my heart.(yes, heart, not life, heart.)

Please do not repost. If you like it, reblog it. Be a decent human.

And please stop reblog  this post.

And maybe block this account.



If you read through all that, thank you and sorry. And P.S. I’m a lesbian, also I just broke my left ankle, I can’t walk, I can’t go to the gym or go to work for days. I don’t care how detail, I’m gonna gif the **** out of this episode.