pansexualtrashcan  asked:

YO nurseydex "nice. great. perfect. fuck this." or holsom "quit it or ill bite"

Yolio, my friend.
I realized the other day that I am the shittiest in the world at writing ransom, so nurseydex it is. 

Dex was not having a good day. At all. In fact, it was decidedly bad.

The worst part was that there wasn’t anything especially horrible that happened. It was just a unch of small things, all at once. First he forgot his bio lab in his dorm, after he spent all night working on it, and the TA wouldn’t accept it late. The strap of his bag broke, and yeah, he’d been using the same one since his junior year in high school, but he had budgeted to buy a new one next month.

In an effort to make his day a little brighter, Dex decided to stop at Annie’s and splurge on himself. Bitty got him hooked on their stupid hazelnut mochas, but he rarely spent the money on himself. He barely got a sip before he spilled it all over shoes.

So, yeah, everything sucked. None of it was life-shattering bad, though, which just pissed him off more.The only thing he had to look forward to was the fresh lemon bars that he knew Bitty had set aside for him. And maybe, just a little bit, he was looking forward to the Haus, too.

He wasn’t sure when it happened, but sometime between his first semester and his third, Dex started thinking about the Haus as home. It was nothing like his actual home, back in Maine. His house was always quiet and pristine.

The Haus, though. It was always loud and messy, full of people and the weird combination of fresh pie and microwave corndogs. Some part of it reminded him of life before Michael signed his enlistment papers (and his death warrant). A little bit of that tension he’d felt building between her shoulder blades for years eased when he walked into the Haus.

Yeah, the day sucked, but he had that, at least. The only bad thing about the Haus was the Nursey seemed to love being there just as much as Dex, and what he could put his finger on exactly was when he fell head over heels in love with Nursey.  After a grueling practice one morning, they changed, like usual, in the locker room. But for the first time, Nursey noticed the small tattoo Dex had tucked under his bicep. He got this overjoyed look on his face, more excited than Dex had ever seen him look before, and that was it. That was the moment when Dex realized he was in love.

Dex hated it. He didn’t want to fall in love. He wanted to go to school, graduate as soon as humanly possible, and make as much money as humanly possible. No feelings, no drama. Hockey was his backup plan, and that’s it. No time for love, or dating, or feelings of any kind.

Among other things, it messed with his game, which means messing with his plan B. Every time he looked at Nursey, he got stupid fluttery feeling, which made him angry, which made him lash out. Lashing out ruined any sort of friendship they had, which made him even angrier. And that, all of that, translated to how they played together on the ice.

Usually, he could hide the stupid hurricane of emotions he felt whenever he saw Nursey, but he was having a bad day. He wanted the weird peace the Haus gave him and he wanted lemon bars, and nothing else.

Dex especially didn’t want to watch Nursey flirting with his stupid peer review partner. So, when he walked into the Haus and saw just that, he couldn’t help his outburst.

“Nice. Great. Perfect. Fuck this,” and walked out.

The fucking lemon bars could wait. They could barely make up for his already shitty day, let alone make up for all of the shitty things he would feel having to sit through a forced conversation with Nursey.

He barely made it four houses down frat row when he heard steps running after him. Dex didnt have to look back to know that is was Nursey. He didn’t bother to slow down.

“Dex, hold up. Dex, wait.” A warm hand clapped on his shoulder, just this side of too hard. “Dude, fucking stop.”

Dex stopped with a sigh. He turned, and seeing Nursey’s stupid face didn’t do anything to help. His stomach swooped and it made him a whole new level of angry.

“What do you want, Nursey?”

“I want to know what the fuck your problem is.” There was a look in those green eyes that Dex had never seen before.

Something in Dex broke. Any somewhat reasonable answer was a lie. It wasn’t anything that contributed to his bad day that was the problem. It wasn’t even the bad day. It was everything, all at once. It was all his stupid feelings. That was the real answer, the answer he was sick of not giving.

“What’s wrong with me is that my socks are sticking to my shoes, since I spent money I don’t have on a coffee I spilled straight away. My problem is that I needed my bag to last until next month and I broke it today. My problem is that my dick lab TA refused to take my report late, so the highest I can get in the class onw is an 89.

“My problem, Nursey, is that every time I walk into the Haus and see you flirting with whatever his name is, I don’t know if I’m more mad at him for being your type or at myself because I’m not. And my problem is that more and more I don’t know if I want to punch your stupidly beautiful face or kiss it.”

He noticed that Nursey’s hand was still on his shoulder. Some time during his incredibly ill-timed speech, he had taken several half-steps forward and was now well into Nursey’s personal space. Dex couldn’t help but look at Nursey’s face. He expected anger or maybe that same odd expression from earlier, but the small smile was a surprise.

Dex felt Nursey’s hand slide carefully down his arm, slipping solidly into his own. “You think my face is beautiful?”

Just like that, the day was forgotten. All the crap fell away and it was just stupid chirps and cute smiles and a warm hand. “Shut up, you know you’re cute.”

“Oh, no. You can’t downgrade me from beautiful to cute like that.”

Dex took another small step forward, close enough that their shirts brushed against each other. “Fine, you’re beautiful. Now, can I kiss you while I still feel like it?”

He got a small nod.

The kiss wasn’t spectacular. It wasn’t fireworks. Dex’s shoes still squelched and his shoulder was sore, but it was exactly what he wanted. And it was perfectly them.

Hurricanes (Bucky x Reader)

Word count: 700

               You and Bucky snuggled on the couch, watching the latest episode of your favorite show on Netflix. It was a stormy night, and hurricane Matthew was only going to get worse from here. Your whole life you had hated storms, and it didn’t help that it was your first time vacationing to Florida, and a stupid fucking hurricane decided to make an appearance. “Hey Bucky.” You whispered, looking up at the man you were snuggling. He looked down at you, trying to pay attention to you and the screen. “Don’t you think the hurricane is scary?”

Keep reading

okay listen there is a thing that needs to be said

i understand that you are already tired of looking at tfios gifsets on your dash. i understand that you’ve always thought that stupid hurricane drizzle quote was pretentious, and that you think john green is problematic as a role model because he is a wealthy, white male. and i understand that you don’t read YA lit that has a largely female audience because you are a ~serious adult and our society teaches us that anything which can hold the attention of young women is, by definition, vapid and worthless.

but here is what we are not going to do:

we are not going to make john green into public enemy #1 just because he’s currently experiencing what some people consider to be disproportionate celebrity. 

the damn movie has been out for 72 hours and people are already bitching their faces off about how much they hate hearing about it, how arrogant and undeserving john green is, how he “doesn’t get” that orange is the new black was making fun of him. for the love of christ, yes he does.

and i’m not here to sell you on john green, i don’t give a flying fuck what you read. go slobber over some kerouac, get sloppy with your beloved, dog-eared copy of whatever fucking wankstain vonnegut book you can’t stop telling people about. do whatever makes you feel tingly in your intellectual loins.

but i swear to god, if you shame teenage girls out of reading what they are interested in or make them feel embarrassed about watching vlogbrothers i will raise holy hell because that shit is not okay

john and hank green have the following they do because they talk to teenagers like people. they use their influence to foster the development of critical thinking skills, to encourage teens to challenge the status quo, and to teach them the things that a dozen imperfect educational systems won’t. and yeah, they’re two wealthy, white men. but they’re trying to use the privilege and power that gives them to do something good. 

so basically, shut the fuck up about how you can’t stand john green. no one wants to listen to you jerking off about how intellectually superior you are for not having read it. least of all john green himself, who has done nothing but advocate for this community.

just blacklist the tfios tag and move the fuck on with your life. 

Emotional and Stir Crazy

Stuck inside like everyone else on the east coast. With Little Things nagging at me to play it all the time. Which makes me like this :

Then my boyfriend is barely texting me which makes me like this:

Cause this song makes me think of him so much.. Missing him hard.

I feel like shit.

I just want him to hold me.

I need to get out of the house… Damn Sandy.

I went to the grocery store this morning to finish buy some supplies I might need and some old lady pushed me down in order to get the last flashlight.


But seriously though, everyone is going crazy u_u