ugh please just leave

Bucky THORt Wrong part 3

part 1 part 2 // part 4 part 5 masterlist

Sooo funny story, remember when I said I’d post this on February 2nd… well here it is!! only 10,000 years too late (fight me). Considering as much, I’d suggest reading the first 2 parts again if you’re still interested in this story (a girl can dream right?). Enjoy!

Words: ~700

Originally posted by misunderstood-adventures

Bucky was feeling altogether rather shitty right now. His head was throbbing from too much of the Asgardian liquor he had indulged in last night, and so far his only successful hangover cure had been to sweat it out in the gym. That plan was out the window though thanks to another little Asgardian issue popping up in his life. It was laughable really. In the ‘40s he had no problem holding his liquor, and certainly no problems with the ladies. Now, a supposedly “enhanced super soldier”, he was more off his game than ever! Down in the dumps over some chick he’d never even spoken to, hiding out in his room all day with a long-melted ice pack over his head.

He spent all day trying not to picture you, trying not to imagine it was him you were straddling today instead of Thor in that gym. Your small frame panting above him as you try to pin- Stop! 

Keep reading


inactive0123  asked:

do you have any trans/same-sex couple aus? thanks!!

Well I can certainly try! :)

  • everyone thinks we’re just roommates but buddy, we’re WAY more than that
  • “this is my girlfriend/boyfriend/partner!” “aw, it’s so nice that you have a close friend that’s a girl/boy/whatever!” “wait no i don’t think you understand”
  • you guys are really cute bestfriends! “oh no sweetheart, we’re not friends”
  • i haven’t been taking my hormone pills for a while (for whatever reason) so you send me a text every morning to remind me to take them
  • i didn’t want to tell you i was trans because i was afraid that you’d treat me differently but you didn’t even bat an eye
  • i didn’t want to tell you i was trans because i was afraid that you’d treat me different but apparently you already knew and were just waiting for me to feel comfortable enough to tell you
  • everyone thinks we’re a straight couple but no, you’re trans ugh i wanna punch someone “no please don’t just leave them be it doesn’t matter”
  • you’re more offended about transphobia than i am and i’m the trans one
  • we’re both trans and support each other

I hope you like these! :)


Why the fuck do people on Tumblr think that aces and aros never question or think about where our orientations come from? I swear to god, it is so hard to find people to follow who blog about other queer stuff aren’t just about to pull some aph/obic bullshit about how we are all evil and/or have internalized hom/ophobia out of their asses. Believe me, I’ve spent more time worrying about these things than you ever could, so maybe back the fuck off? UGH I am so irritated right now! Please just leave my dysphoric ass in peace to find whatever comfort I can in these labels.

anonymous asked:

Can you write one where you get accepted into your dream college but Harry is at the studio so you keep trying to text/call him all excited but he never replies. Then when he gets home he's mad and yells at you for bothering him at work. Then he finds out why and feels terrible. Happy fluffy ending please.

Harry’s POV.

I denied her call again. This was the sixth time she called me in one hour. I was having an important meeting and my girlfriend didn’t wanted to leave me alone for god’s sake even one hour. I was sure this wasn’t any emergency because if it was then y/n would’ve called Niall as he was his best friend but she didn’t.

I sighed and concentrated on the meeting again. After 15 my phone started to flood with messages from y/n. Her messages were distracting me from the meeting. And this was making me angry.

“Harry!! Earth to Harry!?” Jeff said snapping me from my phone and making me look at him. Everyone in the hall was looking at me with annoyed look on their faces. Probably from the constant check which I was doing on my phone. My cheeks reddened from embarrassment as I switched my phone off.

At the end of the day when I was about to wear my coat and leave for home Jeff stopped me.

“Look I know that you love her but please from the next time switch your phone off before joining the meeting.” He said annoyingly and left. Well this angered me definitely. I wore my coat and quickly drove to mine and y/N’s shared apartment.

“Y/N!!! Y/N!!! ” screamed as soon as I stepped inside the house. I was so angry and frustrated that I couldn’t help myself from calling her name like a dog. I saw her running down the stairs with a happy face but soon it disappeared when she saw my red one.

“ARE YOU FUCKING STUPID?” I shouted at her. Her happiness drained from her face as I spat those words to her.

“I was having a very very important meeting! You know I always pick your calls up and text you back within 10 minutes and when I don’t that’s probably because I’m busy. But no ! Miss y/n wants me to pick her calls up everytime! Because her talks are much more important than my meetings!” I spat in complete frustration.

I didn’t realised that y/n was crying. With her head down she continuosly wiped her tears but couldn’t stop them from coming. At that time I cared less about her tears because I was so frustrated and angry.

“I-” she opened her mouth but I cut her off by marching upstairs. I went upstairs and screamed in my pillow. After 15 minutes when I felt my self calming down I sat up on our bed. I took a long breath and was about to exist the room when an envelope caught the glimpse of my eye.

‘Oxford university of London’ it read. I took the letter out of it and read it. My eyes widened when I saw y/n got admission in her dream college. She always wanted to go in Cambridge and now she got the chance. I felt so happy for her. But then the feeling of guilt rushed through my body when I realised the reason of her endless calls.

She always shared good news with me first then her parents and I guess that’s what she wanted to do today too. I slowly made my way downstairs and found her standing in the same spot, same position where I left her. She was still crying and if only God knew how bad I felt that time. I softly turned her to me and wrapped my arms around her tiny waist.

“I’m so sorry dear. It’s just ugh leave it. Please forgive me baby girl. I’m so happy for you.” I said as I held back my tears. She pulled away and away from my expectations she nodded her head and wiped her tears.

“I’m sorry too. It’s just you know I always share my happy new with you. I wanted you to be the first this time too.” She said as she wiped her nose with my Tshirt making me giggle and scrunching my nose.

“Ewwww.” I said making her chuckle.

“Shut up. And congrats me dork. ” she giggled.

“Oh yeah. Congratulations and celebrations lalalala” i sang making her laugh way too hard that I’m sure hurt her tummy. I laughed too as she did a thank you dance.

We both shared some laughs and soon silence took over. I pulled close by waist as she wrapped her arms around my neck. I dipped my head down to kiss her softly. “I’m so happy for you.” I said as I brushed some hairs out her face. “And I love you” y/n said as she pulled me close by my neck and connected our lips again. “Ain’t I gonna get some loving for doing good baby?” Y/n mumbled on my lips as I squeezed her butt and carried her upstairs loving her all night.

you & me, we’ve got our own sense of time

Summary: One lazy Sunday morning, Barry and Caitlin talk about the multiverse over coffee. 

AN: Inspired by “Hannah Hunt” by Vampire Weekend. I’ve read a bit on the multiverse (which I’m not sure I fully understand, tbh) and quite a bit on the various romantic permutations of it, so I wanted to do a Snowbarry take. Ronnie and Iris won’t be mentioned, but it’ll be understood that there’s no romantic interest for them on Caitlin’s and Barry’s part, respectively. In celebration of the end of my summer semester here’s Snowbarry fluff.

“You’re wrong. It’s not possible for the multiverse to exist.” Caitlin crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back on the chair, challenging him to convince her otherwise. Even when her usually carefully curled hair was pulled into a hasty ponytail, even in her faded uni sweater and gray jogging pants, she spoke like she was defending her research before a panel of Dr. Wellsian figures. 

Normally, when she spoke like this, Barry would warm himself up for a debate. Especially when she started their conversations by telling him he was wrong. Did she know how to set up a challenge. The only problem was that it was too early, and coffee no longer had an effect on him, and she really was irresistible in the soft light; she was almost luminescent, and with the sunlight ringing her brown irises, he felt like he was staring at gold.

“…you’re operating on the assumption that space-time eventually repeats, and when it does, it’ll produce exactly the same circumstances surrounding us now,” she was saying. “If there are infinite copies of myself, in these exact circumstances, how would you explain infinite possibilities? Where does divergence begin? How would you explain human consciousness in each of those parallel universes?”

Barry gave himself a minute to understand her questions, but realized he couldn’t remember any of them. He was too groggy to comprehend anything other than the first item on the menu. “Cait, it’s 6 in the morning. Isn’t it too early to pick a fight?”

“I stayed up all night mulling over this after you brought it up yesterday. This is your fault.” A smirk flashed over the rim of the mug she was holding.

“Hey, I can time-travel. If that doesn’t convince you, I don’t know what will.”

“But you time-travel within the rules of this universe,” she insisted. “I don’t think you can traverse to other universes, even if they do exist.”

“Listen, I don’t normally function before noon, and you know that. You’re totally setting me up so you can win this round,” Barry groused, in an attempt to throw her off. “Before anything, at least tell me you’ve considered the possibility.”

She bit her lip. “The possibility of…?”

The word us hovered between them. 

He was suddenly aware that they were speaking in undertones. It was always like this with her — at one point in their conversation, the mood would shift, and he wasn’t sure if they were bantering or flirting, or if their banter was poorly disguised flirting…

It really was too early. 

“Uh,” he fumbled. “Of, well, other realities. Like, at this moment in another universe, I could be still in bed, and you would be messing up another egg…”

She raised an eyebrow. “I cook mean omelettes.”

“Well, in the other universe, you don’t,” he persisted. “Maybe in that universe the only thing you can cook is instant noodles.”

“Maybe in that universe, you’d be up at five in the morning.”

“Then I probably wouldn’t have taken the job at CCPD,” he laughed. “I’d work a 9-to-5 job, maybe. Dash around Central City in a fancy suit and leather briefcase.”

“But then you might’ve never been the Flash.”

“Yeah. And I wouldn’t have met you. And, uh, you know, the team,” he added quickly, before the silence he feared to followed became too thick to penetrate.

But it was too late. The weight of her silence this time was different, and she was regarding him with a look made even more piercing by the strange gold in her eyes. “This is going to be weird, but you know how everyone has been trying to set us up?”

It was out. They were acknowledging it. Alarms were ringing in Barry’s mind, as if the force of her acknowledgement brought the entire world into sharp focus, but he tried not to show his… unease? Excitement? “You mean Cisco? Yeah,” he gave a weak laugh. “Sure. What about it?” 

“I don’t know,” she said, worrying her bottom lip. “I’m trying to see what they see in this friendship… This is awkward, isn’t it?”

Barry felt the urge to flash around the city to release tension. “Nah. I mean, it kinda is, but you know, we would’ve had this conversation otherwise.”

She laughed. “Yeah, I guess. Yeah. Well, I mean, we really get along. And it’s not like there’s an absence of physical attraction…”

“Did you just call me cute?”

Caitlin’s responding blush was so immediate that there was no way for her to deny it. Barry grinned. “Yeah, I think I can acknowledge that there is no absence of physical attraction on my part, either, Dr. Snow.”

“Anyway,” she grabbed her mug again, no doubt to hide her face — the mug was already empty last he checked. “So why is this relationship platonic? We have all the basic elements of attraction — same interests, same social circles, same contexts, physical attraction…”

“Well, love doesn’t just happen when you throw in all those elements together,” he replied. “Scientists make love sound like a math equation, but people aren’t fixed values you can manipulate like letters and numbers. Which, can I just say, is why I like the idea of the multiverse so much. Even variables we think we know like space and time aren’t so quantifiable, after all.” Something suddenly clicked in Barry’s mind as he replayed her words. “Wait wait wait, are you… Are you asking me out in a weird roundabout way?”

“No! No, I really like our friendship as it is,” Caitlin stammered, turning even redder. “Really.”




“Dammit, Barry Allen.”

“You’re blushing, Dr. Snow.”

“Shut up.”

“It’s really cute.”

“Ugh. I’m leaving.”

“You’ll never outrun me.”

“Can you please just let me do a dramatic walk-out. Please.” Caitlin stubbornly crossed her arms over her chest and shrank into the couch, pouting. She did this whenever she was embarrassed, Barry faintly noted; she would try to make herself physically smaller. It was so adorable, and it felt strangely intimate to be able to see this side of her usually guarded personality.

“Seriously though, Cait.” Barry reached out to unfold her crossed arms, and when she finally gave in, he lightly touched his hand over hers. With that gesture, time stilled: conversations, the clinking of mugs, the whir of the coffee machines, were all engulfed by the moment he created. “What do you think? Of… this?”

Her eyes never left his hand on hers, regarding it as if it were unfamiliar for what Barry felt like a long time. And then took a deep breath, and slowly laced her fingers through his. 

“It’s… within the realm of possibility.”

Barry sighed in relief and grinned, clasping her hand tighter so she wouldn’t have the chance to pull away. “You’re talking about this universe, right?”

She gave him a wry smile. “Remember, this is the only one I believe in.”


Elsewhere, at that very same moment, an infinite number of other moments recur in an endless loop. In one universe, Barry is rushing into an apartment on fire a few blocks away from Jitters, and Caitlin is on the way there in a cab, feeling strangely sick at the possibility that he might get hurt; in another, Caitlin is standing by the altar resplendent in her wedding dress, saying her vows to Ronnie, while Barry struggles to smile; in yet another, Caitlin is standing by a grave marked “Barry Allen”, holding the hand of a child yet too young to understand the impermanence of life and the finality of death; in yet other universes, Caitlin and Barry meet only in passing: he hears mentions of her name when her articles are published, she sees him crossing the street one day while rushing to work and forgets his face, but she will see him once in her dream and feel him familiar, a love lost in pockets of infinity she doesn’t inhabit; and there are universes where they will never meet at all, where they will never hear the other’s name, or walk the same city, or exist at the same time in history. 

And there are those universes that open to other modes of reality: there is a universe where there is only matter, and every person is all organ and instinct; Barry and Caitlin exist only as bodies, yearning for things they cannot name. In another, there is no matter, only spirit; and in this world his soul and her soul find each other and twine around each other, yearning for touch without knowing touch, and all around them the wind whispers, tells them stories from their other lives.

I swear, whoever wrote tonight's episode is the biggest troll in television history.
  • Fandom: JUST DON'T HURT CAS.
  • Writers: LOL, okay. *Don't include Cas at all.*
  • Fandom: Bring back Lucifer!
  • Writers: LOL, okay. *Send Sam to the cage and leave him there.*
  • Fandom: Ugh, can we please just get a Christmas episode!?
  • Writers: Sure.
  • Fandom: ...With Cas and Lucifer and everything?
  • Writers: Yup.
  • Fandom: ...
  • Writers: ...But you also have to wait all the way until January 20th. LOL, bye.
  • me walking into a store: ugh please no one talk to me no no no just leave me alone to shop in peace
  • me walking out of a store: wow ok no one even said hello to me or asked if i needed help that is terrible guest service wow

punpunichu said:

Ohhh, dear Splickedy, might I ask for a Porrim in pallete #18 ♥ ?

Porrim “Unimpressed by your pickup lines” Maryam who’s off-screen? wvell i couldn’t possibly guess

anonymous asked:

Uh, this pairing is desperate and annoying. Why this popular though

I don’t know, dude… 

But I can tell you that wasting your time by coming onto a blog for a pairing that you don’t even like and sending a stupid fucking message containing an opinion that none of us give two shits about seems like the height of desperation and annoyance to me. 

And since you’ll have to wait around to even see a response to your idiotic message I hope to ~annoy~ you further by filling the rest of this with beautiful art of my otp. Think of it as punishment for inconveniencing me. 

I can’t take that this just keeps happening. We just HAVE to keep defending Lexa even way long into her death, keep placing the blind haters and asshole trolls in their places, keep cleaning her name when all the show did since they unceremoniously killed her is make her even less than she was. Dragging her like she was nothing–it only feeds the haters enough fuel to step on us again, on Lexa; almost validating their claims. It’s all just so fucking upsetting. I hate that we have to keep slapping some sense into their senseless made up delusional bullshit just to drag Lexa down, and this is on top of our ongoing fight for our rights.

am I the only one tired of those posts that are like “YES, you can comment on women’s appearances on the street… you just have to do it in x way!” 

like, no. how about we just… don’t comment on strangers’ appearances? I don’t care how “politely” it’s phrased, it still bothers me when people do it to me, and I’m sure I’m not alone. 

perhaps there are some women that would enjoy the odd, “properly”-phrased compliment from a stranger on the street, but there are many who do not. so why take the risk? why bother a woman, what is so important about you letting her know you appreciate her appearance? why do you think she cares? if you really want to, strike up a conversation, but a standalone “compliment” is unnecessary.  

in short, please just leave women alone 

I feel so bad for Steve. He is just living his dream and wants to be on the show and people aren’t even giving him the time of day when he politely requests their time.  He is honestly concerned for his housemates and they think he is talking shit when he just wants friends. Like ugh please leave my baby alone