You’ll get to a point in your life when you realize it’s been months, years, decades… and you forgot to live. Life is not Instagram. Life is not Facebook., Life is not texting. Life is forgetting your phone at home, going on an adventure with people that mean the most to you, feeling, sensing, actually looking around at the world and it’s beauty instead of your screen, and coming home with a huge smile on your face and a story to tell your grandkids. I’d challenge anyone to stop picking up his or her phone, stop walking around the city looking down at it, and try to remember what you experienced when you were a child. The universe is so much more interesting than any Instagram or text will ever be.
Sonya Esman: “What advice would you give to girls influenced by social media?” on Bloggersissue.com
The town I grew up in was surrounded by a river. No matter which road you took leaving town you had to cross it. The ancient, muddy Big Sioux River. Every spring and sometimes in the summer it would rage and flood until it felt like the town was under siege. No one could leave and no one could enter until it subsided.
Coming home from the bar one night, my grandfather missed the bridge. He was going almost one hundred miles an hour when his ‘58 Chevy jumped the river, crashing into the opposite bank. He was decapitated. His body impaled by the steering column. They never did find his head.
Strangely enough, some twenty years earlier while fishing in that same river, he reeled in the top part of a human skull. He took it to the Sheriff who sent it off to a lab in the city. They tested it and found that it was over 200 hundred years old and most likely Native American. The lab returned the skull to the Sheriff and he gave it back to my grandfather.
Grandfather kept the skull in the basement. He’d take it out and show it to you if he had a couple beers in him. I held it in my hands after he died. I wondered if it was somehow his skull and time was a strange circle.
I was ten when I saw my first dead body. It was on the bank of that same river, off a different road. Some guy wrecked his motorcycle in the night. His body lay next to the river under a blue tarp the cops had thrown over him. My dad pulled the truck over on the other side of the bridge and we walked to where the cops were. We leaned over the rail of the bridge right over the tarp as one of the cops pulled it off. A heavyset dude lay there, almost like he was asleep. But he was so white it was startling. He was wearing an Earl Campbell football jersey, the same kind Cristopher Cross wore in his music video for his mega 1980 hit “Sailing.”
When I was in college, I woke up one morning after a long night of debauchery and someone had covered me up with a blue tarp. I’d passed out in the back yard. When I first opened my eyes I didn’t know what the hell was going on. The world was on fire in blue. I thought I was dead under a tarp like that guy I’d seen when I was a kid. I swear I could actually hear the words to that Christopher Cross song.
“Well, it’s not far down to paradise, at least it’s not for me
And if the wind is right you can sail away and find tranquility”
When I was 14 my best friend and I drove a couple of girls down to the river and parked a hundred yards from where I’d seen the dead guy in the Earl Campbell jersey. My buddy and his girl took off with a 6-pack to build a fire in a clearing. I just kinda sat there as I hadn’t been alone with a girl since I was a little kid. I couldn’t think of anything to say so I told her about the body I’d seen when I was a young. She wanted to see where. I chugged the rest of my beer and grabbed a couple fresh ones, pointing out the way.
She laughed and dashed off and I dizzily chased her. She was pretty, far too pretty for me. I caught up with her by the bridge and told her the body had been on the other side. She grabbed a beer from me and cracked it open, accidentally spraying herself. She squealed like the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. I took off my t-shirt. She wiped her face with it, then ran off under the bridge to the other side.
She was stopped by a tangle of white gardenia plants all abloom. “This is the spot,” I said. “His family must have planted them,” she said, half shocked and half sad. I instinctively reached out to comfort her and she grabbed my face with both hands and kissed me full on the mouth. I almost passed out from the excitement and the beer and the running and the perfume and the gardenias and the death.
Three years later she shot herself in the heart with a 12-gauge shotgun. She was pregnant. It wasn’t mine. We’d broken up more than a year before.
It didn’t make any goddamn sense. After I heard about it, I got in my car and drove. I wanted to get the fuck out of that stupid little town. It had been raining for three days and the river had flooded. So I pulled over and watched it. The water was raging in wild white cap torrents and I wondered if the bridge would hold.
— sex | implied exhibitionism | mild dom/sub tones | if u’ve got a praise kink then ur gonna love this | mentions of daddy kinks | instances of spanking
;summary — you’re the supervisor of the clothing department with a lot
of useless lingerie knowledge, jungkook is the jewelry department’s defiant hot
boy who flirts in wristwatch brands. basically an upscale retail au, but with
lots of implied under-the-counter sex. and when an opportunity presents itself to fuck
each other in the boss’s office after hours, you’re both too hot for each other
to say no.
Summary: You’re a doctor for the avengers and when Bucky comes in with a hunk of metal in his side you find that it’s not his injury that’s making you sweat.
Warnings: Description of wounds/blood, Bucky being shameless
Note: I’m overwhelmed by the feedback I got on my last fic! You guys are great! So for my second fic I though I’d try out Bucky, again I’d love any constructive comments/criticism.
“Incoming! Incoming!” Odette, the surgical tech assigned to you rushes into the room.
“How many?” you ask, looking up from the table where you’ve laid out your tools.The tech flushes. You sigh. “What type of injuries?”
“Uh-hm..” the tech stutters. You turn around so you can hide your eye roll. “Dr.Cho’s been called in..” Odette says.
“Thank you, Odette” You say and head to the sink to scrub your hands again. You are a top scientist working for Fury, and besides having your degree in engineering you’re an MD who specializes in general surgery. So whenever the reinstated avengers go on mission you’re put on call, which basically consists of you waiting in the med bay in case anyone needs to be treated. Usually the injuries are minor, the team are unparalleled in what they do, and you just end up patching up deep scrapes or bullet grazes. Because of this and the fact you have daily work at the Avenger’s compound you’ve become very friendly with the team.
Your palms start to sweat. Today’s mission was supposed to be high risk and it’s a bad sign that Helen’s been called in. With you and one other doctor on call her and her technology are only called in for severe injuries. The door opens and a battered looking Steve supporting an even more battered looking Bucky walks in. Steve helps Bucky sit on the examination table.
“Any more injured?” You ask, pulling on gloves.
“Scrapes all around, except for Sam. He’s badly burned.” Steve blows air out of his mouth. You look at him, his brow is creased in worry.
“How badly?” You look at Bucky, he has a chunk of what seems to be jagged metal in his side, about two inches thick, protruding several inches from his gear. It seems to be a simple extraction job.
“Badly. But Park’s seeing to him” Samuel Park is the other doctor in the compound “Dr.Cho’s supposed to put him in the new Cradle.I hope she gets here soon.”
You walk to the table and pick up scissors and a knife. “Odette, You should go assist Dr.Park.” the tech nods, and scurries out the door. Steve goes to follow but looks back at Bucky.
“He’ll be fine, go,” You say, and with that Steve leaves.
You look at Bucky. His eyes are already trained on you. It reminds you of the time Steve came in for stitches. His forearm had been split open. Bucky leaned against the wall in the corner of the room, he remained silent but his eyes followed your every move. Even when you looked at him he didn’t break his gaze. You assumed he was just being protective over his best friend. Bucky hasn’t said more than two words to you in the time that you’ve known him. Even after he started opening up and joking around with the team he remained oddly silent around you. You assumed you annoyed him. He had no problem talking with the others and even flirting with the research techs.
You step up to him and start cutting away his gear. ‘Oops probably should have asked before I started cutting off his clothes’.Heat flushes down your neck and you stop your actions.
“Sorry, do you mind if I cut away your gear?”
“ ‘S fine” he says, voice low. You look up and you swear there’s a hint of smile on his face. You nod and continue. He smells of something metallic mixed with blood and sweat and a hint of….cologne…? As you cut away more of his gear you catch more of it. You try not to think about it. He’s handsome, the type of handsome that makes people do a double take. You try to ignore the broadness of his shoulders as his gear falls away, leaving him in a damp wife-beater.
“Ain’t even the first date and you’re already tryna get me outta my clothes.” He rasps, startling you. You stutter and stammer, before deciding not to respond.
“Okay,” you say, taking a breath. “I’m just going to take a look at this” You step in between his legs and inspect the metal shard. It looks worse than what you first thought it was. The shard is about the size of your hand and sticks out right below his rib cage, there’s a possibility that it might have hit some organs. There’s no exit point. Your heart rate goes up. Can a super soldier die if his major organs fail before his body can repair them?
You wheel over your table of tools. You wish you hadn’t sent away Odette.
“Can you lay down for me?,” You ask.
“Of course sugar.” He says, piercing you with his stare.
You take a deep breath, feeling flustered. Did this man want to die on the operating table?
You cut away his undershirt and prepare some local anesthesia.
“I’m going to try to numb the area, but I don’t know how well this will work. I’m sorry I don’t have anything else on hand.” You don’t even know if anesthesia would work on him.
“ ‘S alright, darling I’ve been through worse,” He says giving you a small smile. You feel your face fall as you think about how true his statement is. You numb him and take a deep breath.You move to start extracting the shard when his hand shoots out and grabs yours. You stop yourself from jumping.
“You know there is something that would make me feel better.” Bucky says, voice gravelly.
“Of course, what is it?” You place your tools back on the table. ‘Maybe a special painkiller?’ you think.
“A kiss,”Bucky’s face stretches into a wide smirk.
You splutter “James…!”
“Bucky.” he supplies, smirk not leaving his face.
“Bucky….I uh….I don’t think that would be necessary for minimizing your pain.”
“Oh I beg to differ darlin’“ He says.
You clear your throat and start to grab your tools again. Bucky says your name, pleadingly.
“Come on, ya really gonna deny a dyin’ man his final wish.” You roll your eyes at his dramatic tone. You fix him with your gaze.
“You’re not gonna die Bucky.”
“Here I am,bleeding out on your table, and all I’m askin’ for is one little kiss. Just one little kiss, from the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” He looks at you from the corner of his eye “….before she slices me open.”
You sigh. One thing you know about Bucky Barnes is that he’s stubborn as a bull. Before you can talk yourself out of it, you lean over and press a kiss to his cheek, his stubble prickling you in a not unpleasant way.
For a moment Bucky just looks at you, it seems like he’s crawling underneath your skin with that stare. Then he groans “Really sugar? Ya gonna try and cheat a man with a chunk of metal in his side?”
“I-I, uh” You stammer
“You really are heartless.” He sighs dramatically, closing his eyes.
You war with yourself for a split second, before leaning down and pressing a quick kiss to his lips. As you start to pull away Bucky’s hand comes up and stops you, and he deepens the kiss. His lips are surprisingly soft, his stubble scratches your face deliciously. Remembering the fact that he has a piece of metal in his side, you slowly withdraw. Bucky tugs on your lip with his teeth as you do so, which makes you have to turn around in order to regain your composure. When you turn back around, Bucky’s face is split in an ear to ear grin.
“Alright beautiful, cut me open, I can now die a happy man.”
You swallow, “Shut up James,” you snap, hating how your voice shakes. You pick up your tools and start to remove the metal. It comes out surprisingly smoothly, except for the last few inches. As you pull them free, Bucky starts to bleed. Way too much. The end of the shard is jagged. You try to contain the blood. But there’s just so much, you call for assistance and try to repair the damage.
By the time you finish you’re covered in blood. “Bucky, Bucky can you hear me?” You say, stepping close and touching his face, he looks drawn, pale.
“His pulse is faint. But it’s there.” Odette says. You jump, you forgot she had come in.
“Alright,” you sigh, blowing hair back from your forehead. “Guess we’ll wait.”
Bucky’s moved to a different hospital bed in another one of the rooms, and fitted with IVs. Steve understandably freaks out, with two close friends gravely injured within 24 hours it’s no wonder. Sam’s healed now, resting. You tell Steve to do the same and sit in a chair in Bucky’s room. The others wander in and out of the room.You know with his regenerative properties he’ll recover, but when six hours pass you can’t help but worry. ‘Why hasn’t he woken up by now?’ .
You blink your eyes open as a sliver of sunlight passes across your face. You squint, looking at the clock on the wall: 7 am. Damn. You finished patching Bucky up at about 4 pm last night. You had fallen asleep in his room. ‘I’m terrible at keeping watch’ you scold yourself. ‘What if he had worsened during the night?’ You look over at Bucky, only to find him watching you. You jump.
“Man you need to stop doing that.” Your voice is thick with sleep. You lick your dry lips, feeling self conscious. Standing you hear your joints cracking as you walk over.
“How can I help it when you’re always lookin’ so gorgeous?” He smirks.
“Shut up,” You say, pulling back the covers and inspecting his wound. It looks nearly healed. “How do you feel?” you murmur.
“Alright,” He says wincing slightly as you put pressure on his wound. He sits up, and you try to ignore the way the muscles in his chest and stomach flex. “I’d feel better if you’d let me buy you dinner, though” He looks up at you through his lashes. You click your tongue.
“You really are shameless,”
“Come on, it’s the least I can do after bleedin’ all over ya.” You look down at yourself, your scrubs are crusted in dried blood. You start replacing the dressing on his wound.
“You say that to all the girls who stitch you up?” You quip, avoiding his gaze.
“Nope. But then again I don’t spend six months building up the courage to ask those girls out either.” You look at him for a long while,saying nothing, and notice how red starts to tinge his ears and creep up his neck.
“Alright,” You answer finally giving him a smirk of your own.
Bucky lets out a huge breath, and chuckles “Damn sugar, you really know how to make a man sweat, don’t ya?”
Zach asking you to sleep over at his house - part 3
Warnings: graphic descriptions and images of sex/sexual activities. You’ve been warned my lovelies:) Enjoy!
Your P.O.V The morning sunlight peeked through the curtains, basking the room with its warmth. I was tightly cocooned in a strong pair of arms, my back pressed against a muscular chest. There were soft snores echoing in my ear. I turned my head slightly, to see who the culprit of this snoring was, finding the peaceful face of my sleeping boyfriend, Zach Dempsey.
‘That’s right… Me and Zach… We actually did it last night.’ A sense of giddiness overcomes me. I remember last night so vividly…
Pacing back and forth around your trailer almost drove you dizzy. Back and forth. Back and forth; as if that was going to simultaneously solve all of your problems. It wasn’t. Not even close.
You had just gotten the memo that your intimate scene with Jensen was moved to today, not that you weren’t sweating buckets the second you got the script, but the fact that the scene was moved to today instead of five days from now had you ripping your hair from your head. You were going to be very exposed to him, and no matter how long the two of you had been friends, this was something you weren’t comfortable with on so many levels.
You know when sometimes you meet someone so beautiful, and then you actually talk to them, and five minutes later they’re as dull as a brick? Then there’s other people, and you meet them and you think, “Not bad, they’re okay.”, and then you get to know them… and their face just sort of becomes them. Like their personality’s written all over it. And they just turn into something so beautiful. Rory’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever met.
Dude do u guys have any idea of how much shit Paramore has been through since the end of the Brand New Eyes era? Zac and Josh left, they had to find strength and inspiration to start over, they did, made the most fabulous album and the most beautiful tour, won a Grammy, Parahoy, things were finally going just fine and everything seemed ok and we had the most happy Paramore we ever got… and all of sudden everything went wrong in every single way, Jeremy left, Jeremy sued, losing friends, pmore almost came to an end, Hayley left the band, depression and now divorce… They are SO STRONG i dont even know where to begin, after every single difficulty they faced they had the guts to start over and fight… I am so proud of them i have no words to express it, i guess there’s nothing left for us to do than to respect them and show love and support ALWAYS cause if there’s something they do deserve it is love above anything else