shrink eyes

3

Throughout Amadeus, Miloš Forman chooses to strengthen several shots by means of repetition. In this triptych he shows the film’s main characters, at different points, closing the same door. Normally when this is done in filmed narrative, it’s used as little more than a device to motivate an edit or signal a transition between story beats, but as the door shuts Forman has each actor drift to follow the rapidly shrinking frame. The eye is deprived as the angle of view approaches a vanishing point. It is in this deprivation that our focus intensifies, and in the second before the window is gone, we are allowed an almost confessional glimpse of each individual lowering their mask.

Theoretically

Originally posted by obscure-imagines

Warren Worthington III x Reader

Theoretically

Author: Morgan

Prompt: Can I have a Warren Worthington imagine? Like how about Warren got into a fight again and the reader is all worried and Warren says he’s okay and the reader just fixes his wounds and they cuddle?? I’M SO TRASH FOR WARREN

Note: I AM ALSO TRASH FOR WARREN OMG I MISSED HIMMMMM

Warnings: None?

Warren hesitated to knock on your door. Another night, another fight, and as usual, he had shed some blood and earned some new bruises. But he couldn’t help it. They had been making fun of him…of you. It was the last straw. So here he was, back at the Mansion with his fist poised to knock on your door.

After waiting several more seconds in silence, he finally knocked. You hopped out of bed and pulled the door open, certainly not expecting to see Warren standing there with a black eye, bloodied knuckles, and several scrapes and bruises. He was a mess, and at the moment, you couldn’t tell if the blood stain on his jacket was from him or someone else.

“Oh my God, Warren, are you okay?”

“Yeah…I’m fine.”

“Good. You have to stop doing this.”

“I know.” He lowered his face. There were several moments of silence.

“Get in here.”

“Yes ma’am.” He trudged through the door, his heavy metal wings trailing behind him. His golden Mohawk of curls had been thrown into disarray and now resembled more of a messy halo. A halo on your fallen angel.

“What was it this time?” You asked, taking a seat in front of him.

“They think I’m some no good villain.” He rolled his eyes. “What else is new?”

“Who did this?” you asked. He shook his head, his eyes settling on the toes of his boots. “Warren.”

“New guy. You don’t know him. But he knew me from the news or whatever.”

“You’re famous,” you chuckled a little.

“Infamous is more like it.” He shook his head. His eyes tentatively met yours. “I wish everyone was like you.”

“Oh hush.” You held out both of your hands. “You’re just lucky I’m a healer.”

Warren offered you his knuckles first. His large calloused hands relaxed under your gentle whispers of touches. The white glow from your hands was cool, and in instants, the gashes had dissolved to nothing, leaving only skin behind. You waved a hand in front of his face, causing the swollen eye to shrink, and then cleared up his bruises. When you were done, he let out a blissful sigh.

“Well, I guess not everything about getting into fights all the time is bad.”

“Elaborate.” You smirked as he leaned back against your bedframe.

“I mean, getting to see you is certainly a perk.”

“There are other ways to see me.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. ‘Oh hey, (Y/N), want to go to the mall?’ or ‘hey (Y/N), do you want to go out with me?’ would work just fine, but nooooo, angel boy and his bad boy complex always seem to-”

“So you’d go out with me?” he cut you off, a smirk finding his lips. It did not help that you just noticed the way his black t-shirt hugged his biceps. Shit, he was hot. “Theoretically, of course.”

“Theoretically…yes.” You scooted a little closer to him and let a cold finger trail down the fabric of his t-shirt. Abs. Goddamn. “And if we’re being 100 percent honest here, I’ve always kind of had a thing for bad boys.”

“Is that so?” he raised an eyebrow and twirled a curl of your hair around one of his large fingers.

“Mmhmm.”

“Interesting.”

But, I’m also a huge cuddler. So, theoretically of course, this bad boy would have to be down for some mean cuddle sessions from time to time.”

“Oh, believe me, I can cuddle.” He crossed his muscular arms as though you had just proposed a challenge.

“Oh can you?”

“For your information, yes. I can.” You were skeptical. “Come here. Right now. We’re cuddling.”

“Are we?”

“We are. Right here. Right now.” Warren sunk down into the pillows the slightest bit. He opened his arms wide and folded and tucked his metal wings as far beneath him as possible. You crawled beneath the covers and surrendered to his strong embrace. He brushed the tiny hairs out of the front of your face. “See?”

“Cozy indeed, bad boy.” You pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips and flicked the light off. “Goodnight.”

And so there the two of you were. Someone broken, and someone who pieced broken things back together. With you in his arms, Warren had never slept better.

Softly, Hallelujah

For @axilarts​ / @axileana​, to whom I promised hurt!Newt to.

It’s in the middle of a meeting when Graves suddenly feels the band on his finger grow hot and agitated. He stops mid sentence, hands braced down on the end of the conference room table, as images flash across his mind’s eye – quick snap shots of things until finally, he has what he needs.

He presses his thumb to the underside of his ring finger and against the band itself and says, “I’m coming, hang on,” before turning to the room at large.

“Director Graves,” Picquery blinks, cool and composed but he can see in her gaze that she has at least some inkling of what has happened. “Everything alright?”

“I am afraid I must excuse myself,” is all he says and then he’s abusing his high security clearance to disapparate out of the meeting room and into the living room of the flat he shares with a certain Magizoologist. He finds the case atop their bed, a rather nervous looking Dougal sitting on its top most step – peering out, waiting.  The moment it sees him, it dips back into the case; obviously aware of what Graves has come for. Graves follows him down in a hurry, his feet flying down the rickety ladder, only to find that Newt is not in his little shack.

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Tumbleweed, Her #2 - [BAP] Mafia!Au

Previously: Part 1

The Fugitive: Moon Jongup.

He is a tired soul, himself. He had lost his purpose and finding himself in the midst of nowhere had sent him in a frantic life long search of a destination that he can’t seem to find, anywhere, near him. But when he saw you, he made you as his focal point. He didn’t know you, but you were so accepting and kind, he found home in you.

The night accompanied by heavy rain sent Jongup drenched. He found your apartment by chance. Bloodied, with severed lips, abrasion covering his fore arms, you took him in. Treated him, catered to him, nursed him back to health. He never thought banging on a stranger’s door would lead to an angel like you. Everything about him is doubtful. He was too shaken up to even speak back then. He had a compass tattoo on his neck that was as impressive as his looks. A little cut on that beautiful nose bridge and the purple bruise on the side of his lips didn’t seem to waver the fact that he was indeed, good looking. He was whimpering in pain for several days.

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✦make it up to you✦

↳ Harry x Reader

Requested | Harry imagine when he loses his temper and almost hits you?

Warnings | almost being hit by a lover, swearing

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Ahsoka/Anakin Feels

HI!

Yes, it’s me back again with the Star Wars crap. 

If Star Wars the Clone Wars or Rebels ain’t your thing, then completely ignore me if you wish. If you loved the shows as much as I did and still do, then tune in for just a second of your time if you are equally as obsessed with Ahoska and Anakin’s relationship as I am. 

This scene. 

I am going to talk about THIS SCENE. 

Because watching it as a fangirl and lover of Ahsoka and Ani’s relationship as not only Padawan and Master but also brother and sister (ish), this was huge for me. Finally, they meet again, and honestly, I wouldn’t have had it any other way. 

True, I would much rather had Ahsoka be able to persuade Anakin back to the the light, but we all knew that wasn’t going to happen. 

I want to talk about the eyes. In this scene the eyes of both characters were featured very prominatnly, and I do NOT thing that was a mistake of any kind.

Ths is Ahsoka, after years of thinking him dead  or worse, then having doubts on if he was this Sith Lord, firm vertainty of the opposite, and now her fears are coming true. But maybe for just a moment she was filled with filled with a different emotion. A happier one. Maybe for just a milisecond she was relieved because he’s back.

THEN THERE’S ANAKIN.

Yes, I’m calling him Anakin, not Vader, fight me.

Ahsoka says his name and he stops. He halts for a moment and he looks down. He looks away from his opponent as if he’s remembering something. Remembering better times, times when this foe in front of him wasn’t that. Remembering when she was still so small, too small to be fighting in a war. 

Maybe he’s remembering his little Snips and it makes him stop. 

And there’s doubt. Doubt about what the he’s been taught and what the Empire is telling him to think. Doubt because he loved this kid once. Why would he want to kill her? 

And it makes him stop

And then there’s silence. 

It’s only for a moment, but there’s seilcne. Silence for Anakin to think, and silence for Ahsoka to see that there’s still a piece of her old master left in there. 

But ten his eyes narrow again and turn angry. Anger at himself for his weakness and anger at Ahsoka for causing these old feelings to erupt. And maybe there’s some anger at the Empire too. He knows what he has to do, and maybe a tiny peice of him is screaming no

His pupils shrink again and his eyes widen with fury. Anakin is pushed back under the thousands of layers of anger and hate, kept locked away so no one can see him. Because Anakin is weak and weakness can not be allowed in the Empire. 

He readies his lightsaber, prepared to do what he has to. 

Ahsoka stays. She won’t leave him, not this time. 

And she saw it too, the part of her master that no one had seen in years. The small part of Anakin Skywalker that still remained. 

She sees in his eyes the man who she loved once, who treated her like his own child, took care of her and trained her. Taught her all she knows. She saw the man who she looked up to and respected above everyone else. 

And there is a glimmer of hope. 

She will not levee him. Not this time. 

Not again


And then they fight again, and the door closes on their battle, and we assume that Ahsoka dies, killed by her former master. 


But maybe, for just a milisecond, the light that never really left Anakin Skywalker shines through.

Gone in a flash, disappeared without a trace, but I think that Ahsoka sees it too.


Alright, I know that I’m babbling know. I just have a lot of feelings about these two, okay? Sue me. 

Lettuce

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Summary: You and Sam go out to dinner for you anniversary. Back at home, you surprise him, and he surprises you.

Word Count: 2,486

Warnings: oral sex (female receiving), in love, anniversary, passionate, love-making smut, Sam being a complete goober

Submitted by: @cyrilconnelly

A/N: This is slightly crack fic-ish. The gif is totally SFW, but the text is not. This is also totally not a drabble, it’s a full blown fic.

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He closed his eyes then and held on tight, breathing slowly and deeply.

The harsh lines of pain and exhaustion in his face began to soften as the drug took effect. 

“Jamie,” I said softly, after a minute. “I’m sorry about it.” 

He opened his eyes, looked upward, and smiled, giving me a slight squeeze. 

“Aye, well,” he said. His pupils had begun to shrink; his eyes were sea-deep and fathomless, as though he looked into a great distance. 

“Tell me, Sassenach,” he said, a moment later. “If someone stood a man before ye and told ye that if ye were to cut off your finger, the man would live, and if ye did not, he would die— would ye do it?” 

“I don’t know,” I said, slightly startled. “If that was the choice, and no doubt about it, and he was a good man … yes, I suppose I would. I wouldn’t like it a bit, though,” I added practically, and his mouth curved in a smile.

“No,” he said. His expression was growing soft and dreamy. “Did ye know,” he said after a moment, “a colonel came to see me, whilst ye were at work wi’ the wounded? Colonel Johnson; Micah Johnson, his name was.” 

“No; what did he say?” 

His grip on my bottom was beginning to slacken; I put my own hand over his, to hold it in place. 

“It was his company— in the fight. Part of Morgan’s, and the rest of the regiment just over the hill, in the path of the British. If the charge had gone through, they’d ha’ lost the company surely, he said, and God knows what might have become o’ the rest.” His soft Highland burr was growing broader, his eyes fixed on my skirt. 

“So you saved them,” I said gently. “How many men are there in a company?”

“Fifty,” he said. “Though they wouldna all have been killed, I dinna suppose.” His hand slipped; he caught it and took a fresh grip, chuckling slightly. I could feel his breath through my skirt, warm on my thighs. 

“I was thinking it was like the Bible, aye?” 

“Yes?” I pressed his hand against the curve of my hip, keeping it in place. 

“That bit where Abraham is bargaining wi’ the Lord for the Cities of the Plain. ‘Wilt thou not destroy the city,’ ” he quoted, “ ‘for the sake of fifty just men?’ And then Abraham does Him down, a bit at a time, from fifty to forty, and then to thirty, and twenty and ten.” 

His eyes were half closed, and his voice peaceful and unconcerned. 

“I didna have time to inquire into the moral state of any o’ the men in that company. But ye’d think there might be ten just men among them— good men?” 

“I’m sure there are.” His hand was heavy, his arm gone nearly limp. 

“Or five. Or even one. One would be enough.” 

“I’m sure there’s one.” 

“The apple-faced laddie that helped ye wi’ the wounded— he’s one?” 

“Yes, he’s one.” 

He sighed deeply, his eyes nearly shut. 

“Tell him I dinna grudge him the finger, then,” he said. 

I held his good hand tightly for a minute. He was breathing slowly and deeply, his mouth gone slack in utter relaxation. I rolled him gently onto his back and laid the hand across his chest.

“Bloody man,” I whispered. “I knew you’d make me cry.”

- An Echo in the Bone

Magnets: Chapter 4

A Prompto Argentum Soulmate AU

Chapter 3 | AO3 | The End
Word Count: 3,697
SFW

Aurora woke up the next morning to the sound of light snores. She cracked her eyes open and went to sit up when she realized she was already upright and being held down by a pair of lean arms. She wiped the sleep from her eyes, realizing that she was in Prompto’s living room, on his couch, in his lap.

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forget me not

Words: 13,500
Fandom: Moana
Category: Gen
Relationship: Moana & Maui

Summary:  Look, normally Maui’s all for humans weeping over his injured body. Hey, he’s been demigod-ing for thousands of years, it’s nice to be appreciated every once in awhile, all right? But this one, this girl, acts like she knows him. He disregards it, because that’s just creepy, until he realizes that he has a tattoo of her - and no clue how he earned it.


Alternate title: “?????? ?? ???”

Main idea co-developed between myself and @paperjam-bipper, title credits entirely to her. For some reason, she has made it her mission to tear out my heart on a regular basis. Thanks, Paper.

A couple of quick notes, i.e. I’m putting the abridged glossary at the top this time: The ‘ava ceremony is a formal one used for a variety of occasions, included but not limited to: bestowing the title of Chief (matai) on a new Chief, welcoming visiting tribes to the island, honoring guests, etc. 
The siva tau is a traditional Samoan war dance, used in the modern-day before sporting events. 
The ailao afi is also known as the fire knife dance. Literally, you take a knife, wrap it and cloth and light it on fire. Performed to demonstrate battle prowess. As the daughter of the Chief, Moana would have had familiarity with it even before the movie. I have a headcanon that Moana and Maui, the two giant dorks that they are, looked at this incredibly dangerous dance and went “time to make a duet out of this!!” They would.


When Maui opens his eyes, there’s someone holding his hand.

Which makes waking up way more awkward than it needed to be. Sure, he’s a demigod of many talents, but he’s gotta say that hand-holding isn’t one too often requested.

Then the situation abruptly gets about a hundred times more uncomfortable, because as soon as he opens his eyes this girl decides that his pecs are a good pillow, wrapping her arms around his chest and wow, she’s got a surprisingly strong grip for a mortal. She’s pretty much squeezing his breath out of his lungs, which is impressive, since he’s got a pretty solid pair. Used for anything from hakas to grand story-reenacting. Not a pair like it this side of Lalotai.

“Hey,” he says jovially, trying to prise her off and failing. Good to know he was missed during his millennium off. “Look, kiddo, I know it’s not every day you meet your hero, but you wouldn’t want to make a bad first impression, now would’ya.”

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An angel meets God

You’re hungry. It’s two A.M, and you find yourself at a gas station for snacks. Sighing, you’re wings droop and you grasp the bag tighter.
Energy, buzzing, overwhelming energy. To you’re right, a middle-aged, average man with an unkempt beard and a pajama set on. He’s the only one there, and he’s perusing the snack aisle mere feet away from you.
He notices you soon as well, eyes hovering on the ‘empty’ space connected to you’re shoulder blades. He rolls his eyes.
You shrink back a little. You can sense the power radiating from him.
’ Hello ’ he greets you, voice forced.
You nod, gulping. Not caring how improper, you hurried out of the store, pushing past the entity.
How strange, how startling.

// heavily inspired by @martyrsuggestion
3

GLAUCOMA

What is Glaucoma?

Glaucoma is when the intraocular pressure is elevated, compromising vision either partially or completely.

What causes Glaucoma to develop?

In a patient with healthy eyes the aqueous humor produced within the Ciliary body located behind the Iris flows through the Pupil and drains through a sieve structure found in the corner of the eye known as the Iridocorneal Cleft. The fluid is produced and then drained at a steady rate resulting a stable intraocular pressure (IOP) of 15-20mmHg.

In the unhealthy eye, there is inadequate outflow of aqueous humor through the Iridocorneal Cleft resulting in the build up of fluid within the eye. This causes the IOP to increase, the more this increases the more damage is done to the Optic nerve which blocks nerve impulses causes blindness.

Does it cause permanent blindness?

The longer the IOP is increased the more damage is done to the Optic nerve, once this is permanently damaged vision can not be restored. Therefore, early surgical intervention is strongly recommended. 

Is there only one type of Glaucoma?

No, there are two types of Glaucoma. These are:

Primary Glaucoma - This is thought to be the inherited type and is seen mainly in purebred dogs. It is caused by either:

  1. Open Angle Glaucoma - Where the point where the Iris meets the Corneal is open at the correct angle but the Iridocorneal Cleft becomes clogged over time resulting in a slow loss of peripheral vision until the whole eye is effected. This type of Glaucoma has little warning signs and is seen most commonly in Beagles and Norwegian Elkhounds.  
  2. Narrow Angle Glaucoma - This type of Glaucoma occurs suddenly when the Iris is pushed or pulled forward blocking the drainage angle. Commonly seen in Cocker Spaniels and is a medical emergency causing pain, redness of the eye, dilated pupils, nausea and vomiting.
  3. Gondiodysgenesis - This is a developmental abnormality of the actual drainage angle causing decrease fluid outflow when the eye becomes inflamed. It is commonly seen in Basset Hounds.

Secondary Glaucoma - This is often the result of pre-existing ocular conditions such as Uveitis, Lens dislocation, Intraocular tumours and trauma to eye interfering the natural flow of ocular fluid. 

The clinical signs of Glaucoma include:

  • Excessive tear production
  • Yellow/Green Ocular discharge
  • Reddened Eye
  • Behavioural changes due to pain and loss of vision
  • Enlarged Pupil that doesn’t respond to light
  • Enlarged Eye

How is Glaucoma diagnosed?

Diagnosis is made by evaluation of clinical signs and taking a detailed history from the client. In addition to this two diagnostic techniques are used, these are:

  1. Tonometry - The measurement of IOP with a Tonopen.
  2. Gonioscopy - Evaluation of the drainage angle, done by placing anaesthetic drops into the eye and then installing a dome shaped lens onto the corneal surface. The front of the eye can then be examined with a slit lamp.  

What treatment is available?

Glaucoma in animals is much more difficult to treat than when it is present in human eyes. Mannitol is the intravenous drug of choice used to decrease the IOP, while eye drops such as Pilocarpine are used to increase the outflow of Aqueous humor. Once the IOP is stable, surgical options become available. 

If vision is present:

Laser Cyclophotocoagulation - A laser is used to burn through the white outer layer of the eye and selectively destroy small areas of the ciliary body to reduce the production of eye fluid. Occasionally more than one surgery is needed to achieve a positive outcome from this treatment.     

Cyclocryothermy - A small probe is placed on the outside of the eye and small areas of ciliary body are frozen to decrease the amount of intraocular fluid being produced. 

Anterior Chamber Shunts - A small valve is implanted under the white of the eye through a small incision acting as a new drainage pathway for the fluid to leave the eye.

If vision isn’t present: 

Evisceration and Implantation of Intrascleral Silicon Prosthesis – A silicone implant is implanted within the eye. This procedure involves shelling out the eye leaving the fibrous sclera and cornea, the shape of the eye is maintained with a sterile silicone sphere and the eye is pain free for the patient. Complications include corneal ulceration.

Ciliary Ablation by Intravitreal Injection of Gentamycin – Gentamycin (a antibiotic) is injected into the eye in high concentrations, the ciliary body is killed resulting in the cessation or reduction of aqueous humor production. A GA is needed and complications can include: shrinking of the eye, return of glaucoma and chronic pain.

Enucleation – Removal of the eye.

Making Magic (Bucky)

this is a lovely and kinda ambigious in a good way request from a member of the skele club, @skeletoresinthebasement

pretty average WARNINGS, which are swearing and mentions of sex and lots of overreactions 


You couldn’t help yourself. Maybe it was the party, maybe it was the lights or the alcohol. Perhaps the mood, the crazy feeling in the air, or just that you were tied of stopping yourself. But somehow, you’d ended up here, straddling Buckys hips, your ass on his thighs and his palms on your ass.

“Come on, doll.” He rasped, his stubble scratching against the soft skin of your jaw in a way that made you shiver. Your palms slid down his shouders, fiddling with the belt of his jeans and you felt his stomach jump with his breath.

“Okay.” You whisper and his eyes darken, and you can’t help yelping in surprise as he suddenly pushes to his feet, his hands holding you against him and your legs tightening automatically. “Oh my God.”

“Don’t wear the words out yet.” He teases in your ear and you giggle, clutching him as he carries you from the flashing lights and crowd, and back to his room. 


Tiptoeing from the room, you curse internally, trying to find as much of your outfit as you could before you scarpered from the room and bolted for your own.

“You make me sick, who has sex with their co-worker, their friend, the person they have a mission with in two days. The only buffer for the sexual and whatever emotion tension is left over after this shock exit is Peter. Peter.” You growl to yourself as you go through what you managed to save from his room. Dress, check. Shoes, check. Hair clips, stuck in your birds nest so check. Bra, wasn’t wearing one. Panties? You sigh a furious breath, trying to maintain control. Gone. “Do you hate children? Do you hate Peter? What is wrong with you? You make me ill. Christ help you. And your, where are my panties!”

Furiously, you kick the dressing table beside you, screeching just as loud as your previous roar.

“There’s seriously something wrong with me.” You whine softly, avoiding looking at your foot as you strip down again and crawl across your sheets. Inhaling a stuttering breath, you squeeze your eyes closed and try to sleep.


“Wake up! You have a physical in an hour and Bruce sent me.” Natasha shouts, her fist banging on your door furiously and you groan softly. Blinking through the crust around your eyes, you stumble toward the door, sheet barely covering you and swing it open an inch.

“I’m awake.” You croak, your voice breaking and you frown at the sound. Wow. Last night was wilder than you remember.

“It was a ploy. I’m coming in.” Natasha smirks, shoving through the door and you hiss, leaping out of the way just in time an barely managing to keep your already hurt foot from more damage. “We all saw you leave like a koala last night, show me yourself.”

You groan, holding out the arm that isn’t holding up your sheet and waving it toward your body.

“I can’t make fun of your exit.” She observes, biting her lip and smirking. She glances at the closed door before returning her gaze to you. “Why’re you here?”

“Because I’m a f*cking idiot.” You shrug, limping into your bathroom and leaning over the sink. Natasha snatches the sheet from you as you pass her and all you can do is sigh in response. Splashing water on your face, you scrub as much of last nights makeup off as you can and glower at your reflection. “I slept with a co-worker and I have a mission with him tomorrow.”

“Not if you don’t pass the physical.” Natasha cuts in and you groan. You don’t glance down at your foot, but it hasn’t much touched the ground since you woke up.

“What’re they going to do? Change me out and upset the roster? No way. Not send me? Not with Peter on board.” You grumble, shooing her backwards and closing the door to a crack. “I’m peeing.”

“Sure.” Natasha laughs, “And of course they wouldn’t send you if you weren’t perfect. But you are perfect, so I hope you’re excited.”

“Have you seen him? Seen Steve maybe?” You mutter, rising and washing your hands before glancing around the bathroom for your toothbrush.

“Nope, though I kind of wish I had. I came here before I went to his room, I had a feeling you’d flee.”

“I better than fled. I bolted. I galloped. I… What’s a word for when a plane goes faster than the speed of sound and makes a sonic boom? Flew doesn’t really work.” You frown, shoving the toothbrush in your mouth.

“Doesn’t matter, I have the picture.” Natasha shrugs, pushing the door open. “Wait… Your ass.”

You glance back, only to gape. Whipping around, you stare at Natasha, your mouth open and foam coating your lips. Her lips twitch, her eyes sparkling.

“He spanked me.” You whisper, toothpaste spit flying from your mouth.

“Hard, it looks like.” She snickers and you groan, your head falling backwards and the toothbrush return to your mouth. “You didn’t feel it?”

“I haven’t sat down yet! I slept on my tum.” You moan, washing the foam from your mouth and groaning.


“Anything you wish to declare?” Bruce teases lightly, and you groan, grinning all the same. Helen Cho stands to his left, and your specialized doctor, Melissa, on her left.

“I kicked my foot. And last night I was thoroughly spanked. That’s all I can think of.” You mutter, shifting uncomfortably on the examination table and Melissa snickers, covering her mouth with her clipboard.

“Um…” Bruce coughs, shaking his head before refocusing on you. “Let’s see your foot then.”

You grin at the exasperation on his face and proffer your aching foot, the one you have pointedly not looked at.

“Christ, Y/N.” Helen hisses, her gentle hands taking control from Bruces and you wince, still glaring at the wall to your right. “What’d you do, slam it in a door seven times?”

“How about kicked a dresser in a fit of embarrassed rage?” You offer pathetically and Melissa clucks at you, all three of them combining their disapproval and disappointment till it fills the room. Hell, you can practically smell it. Smells like a hospital examination room. “Sorry.”

“She can’t go.” Melissa sighs, and your head jerks toward the three of them, their expressions as if she just said what they were all thinking.

“No, I have to go!” You cut in, a deep fear filling you that this is just the beginning. One missed mission, a few missed breaifings, one sex scandal and suddenly the recipe is done and you’re out. “I need to be there.”

“Steve can go.” Bruce pipes up, eyeing the chart in his hand and you don’t know what to do. None of them look at you, the sense of foreboding building in you.

“I have to go!” You snap, but their eyes pass over you as if you’re not even there. “Please.”

“It’s not happening, Y/N.” Helen orders, her voice the final word and you shrink, tears filling your eyes.

“Someone will be in shortly, we have paperwork to do.” Melissa sighs, exiting with the other two on her heels and your hands shake as you pat your pockets and fish out your phone.

“Natasha? They won’t let me go.”


“You seriously purposely hurt yourself so you wouldn’t have to face me?” Bucky snaps from the doorway and you cringe, glancing around the stark room for an exit he isn’t blocking.

“I didn’t- I wasn’t trying to- It was an accident.”

“Which part?” He snarls, his voice a breath and you wince, not meeting his eyes.

“All of it?” You ask and he growls, shaking his head furiously.

“I honestly- F*ck, Y/N.” He snarls, forcing you to meet his eyes for half a second before he’s storming out the door.

Something splats on your hand and you realize you’re crying.


“They’re due back.” Natasha warns you, setting a bowl of popcorn in your lap and you groan softly, staring at the white puffs.

“I’m a bit of a dick, aren’t I?” You sigh, shoving a handful of popcorn in your mouth and chewing unhappily. “Me, takes the hottest guy I know to bed, whom I’ve wanted to bed forever, and then I turn it into a fiasco. No, no, wait. Me, beds this guy, but also wants to adore this guy, snuggle this guy, Netflix and chill with this guy, eventually buy a kitten with this guy and slowly make this guy fall in love with me, but then I run away and make a dick of myself.”

Natasha stares at you, rolling her eyes. “Please, talk to Sam about how to use a meme cause you’re doing it wrong.”

“Screw you.” You mutter bitterly, shoving another handful in your mouth. “But in all seriousness. I really wanted him and then my brain exploded or something? Did I have a mental break? Did I get dicked down so well that I went momentarily loopy?”

Someone snorts from the doorway and you jerk around, your jaw dropping at the sight of Steve, Bucky and Peter standing in the doorway. Peter grins widely, his cheeks red and Buckys lips are curled angrily.

“Close your mouth.” Natasha mutters and your teeth clack together at the speed you shut your jaws, twisting hurriedly back to the way you were facing. Red climbs your face but you keep your expression blank.

“Nice work, man.” Steve murmurs and Natasha snickers, a soft groan escaping you despite yourself.

“Please murder me, before I say anything more.” You plead, Natasha laughing like the malevolent goddess she is.

“Not today.” She chuckles, scooping up her bowl of popcorn and heading for the door, or so you assume because you’re specifically not looking in that direction.

Scuffling sounds beside you and Bucky appears at your side.

“Wanna talk?” He mutters bitterly and you hiss a breath.

“Please, you don’t have to.”

“I really do.” He sighs, jerking his head toward the door where Steve has his arms crossed and a dark look to his expression.

“Oh.” You mumble, rubbing your temples before gesturing to Natashas seat. “I must say, I handled this poorly. Worse than poorly, I handled it like a doctor during plague times. And I’m sorry.”

He smirks, only to frown and pull his lips back into a tight line. “That’s about right.”

“I didn’t mean for any of it to happen.” You start, groaning as his expression shutters. “No, no, I meant for it to happen, but not… If it happened ever, I expected less drunken hookup circumstances and more long time friends giving in to desire and realizing they’re fantastic together circumstances.”

Bucky rubs his mouth roughly, not hiding his smile well enough and you try not to let it go to your head.

“Long time friends giving in to desire?” He asks softly and you groan, rubbing your eyes.

“You spanked me.” You hiss, glancing over your shoulder at Steve who stands facing into the hallway.

“I know.” He whispers back, sarcastically, and you roll your eyes, poking your tongue at him.

“I mean, I had to sit through a physical and then sit through getting a cast on my broken foot.” You hiss and he smirks, pride filling his eyes. “It really hurt!”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have messed up your foot then.” He shrugs and you narrow your eyes on him, anger rising in you.

“You caused that!” You accuse and he scoffs, giving you a look like you need to get real.

“How?”

“You and your stupid magical dick is how.” You snarl, startling a laugh from him, and you flush with pride at the sight of it.

“Me and my magical dick are sorry, then.” He teases and you brighten further, your chin tilting up.

“I am also sorry, though my privates haven’t received any compliments so… Yeah.” You shrug and he chuckles, sighing.

“Trust me, you’re magic too.” He promises, voice sultry and you nod easily.

“Thought so.”

“So… Maybe we could try this again?” He asks hesitantly and you chew your lip, staring at the pillow between the two of you.

“I hope so.”


no editing WASSUP

Prompt/Request: ANBU Team 7

Anonymous said:

Have you ever considered how awful team 7 would be as Anbu? I give them a month before the Hokage kicks them out with a, “Naruto, why were you yelling about ramen? Sasuke, don’t you dare look so smug you little shit. Your attempt to shut him up evaporated the whole lake. Serriously, a Katon on a stealth mission? Now I have to explain to the village elder why there is no more lake. And Sakura… you are supposed to keep these two idiots in check, not destroy the forrest.” Please write this…


Blanket Fic Disclaimer 

“Why does your mission report smell like it’s been soaked in ramen?”

It’s a measure of just how tired Kakashi is that this is the first question out of his mouth. The three masked figures in front of him shift slightly, as if exchanging glances, and the one in the middle – the blond in the fox mask – chuckles, rubbing the back of his head.

“Sorry, Kakashi-sensei –”

Lord Kakashi,” the pink haired woman behind the lioness mask reminds.

“ – I mean, Lord Kakashi. I was really hungry after the mission and couldn’t wait to eat, so I may have spilled a little on it while I was writing up the reports and –”

“I thought we had an agreement that you weren’t to write the reports anymore,” Kakashi interrupts, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Hawk?”

“My fingers were broken at the time,” the third member of the squad states unapologetically. Everyone in the room knows he dislikes writing mission reports.

“And ‘Lioness’?”

“Was healing him,” she answers.

“Yeah, that’s not all you were doing…” ‘Fox’ sniggers.

WHAM!

Keep reading

Jughead Preference Catch up 1-14

#1 Cuddling

Jughead often finds his head in your lap while you play with his hair as you wear his hat. His favourite sight in the world has now become his view of you wearing his hat, blushing when you see him gazing upon you.

#2 Nicknames

Yours: My other half

His: Juggie or his real first name

#3 His nervous habit you love

Jughead is usually quite composed which is why it’s so cute when he tucks his hands in his pockets and shrinks away, avoiding your eyes.

Originally posted by hellomadzstuff

#4 Your quirk that he loves

He loves it when you tip your head side to side while getting lost in space.

#5 His favourite place to kiss you

On your forehead at the end of your hairline.

#6 How you hug 1

The two of you don’t hug often, it always turns into cuddles within the first five seconds and if it doesn’t then it’s full of love and comfort.

#7 His first thoughts meeting you

“Not what I expected.”

“Couldn’t be more beautiful.”

“Too good for you.”

#8 How he wakes you up

He doesn’t. He’s not a morning person but he is an early bird, ironically. But either way he’ll admirer you until you wake up and giggle at him, throwing the sheet over his head.

#9 You have a nightmare

Jughead knows from previous experiences what it’s like to be awake in the toxic night so he’ll pull out all the stocks; forts, cuddles, snacks, movies, play wrestling, anything that will make you smile again and forgive the night.

#10 Your fear

Never leaving this bloody town

#11 Height difference

Neither of you really noticed or exposed the fact that he was a bloody giant until you tired and hopelessly failed to take his beany resulting in you never living down the teasing.

#12 How you kiss

You kiss like fireworks are going through your lips, passionate and meaningful.

#13 How you hug 2

Promisingly, each hug is like a promise that there’ll be another.

#14 Caller ID

Yours: My girl/My love/My guy

His: Writing Prince