Gladio: Hey, Iggy. Do you know what’s better than sunflowers on a piano? Ignis: …? What? Gladio: Tulips on an organ. Ignis: Hm…okay? Gladio: … Ignis: …
Gladio: :) Ignis: …*gaSPS* Ignis: GODDAMMIT GLADIO
A/N: Something quick I whipped up because my brain is too tired to write any series. Enjoy :D
The first time Bucky picks you, you’re
sitting at your dining room table, biology book opened as you try to draw a
diagram of a plant cell. You have a half-eaten sandwich sitting on your plate
beside the book and you take a bit, absently chewing as you frown at your
paper. The proportions are all wrong and these are just notes, they shouldn’t be
something you worry about, but here you are, erasing the cell wall for the
fifth time and trying to be accurate this time around.
Being in honors classes, you’re
pressured to do your best and graduate top of your eighth-grade class. Your
parents beam with pride when they tell their friends that you’re doing so well
in school, and you want to keep them looking that way for as long as you can.
There’s a knock to your door and
your mom calls out your name. “Bucky’s here!” she says.
A/N: This is all written with love for fan fic. I’m teasing, not putting it down in any way. And the quotes are from my own Faking It series, in case anyone was curious. Hope you enjoy! (Sorry, tag list is closed!) XOXO
“You knew he didn’t quite understand why you found it so hot, but Dean had never seen himself leaning over the engine in a tight, sweaty t-shirt, hands and forearms covered in grease as he worked.”
Dean’s outside working on the Impala, and you’re reading fics about just that. Apparently, Dean working on the Impala is the hottest thing to ever grace the fandom (aside from his lips…and his green eyes…and his cocky swagger that is really just hiding adorable and unnecessary insecurity…and Jesus, these people are thorough), and you’re curious. In your actual experience with Dean, working on the Impala is just a nuisance. You have to wait longer to get on the road, Dean takes forever to scrub himself clean afterward, and for the next few hours, everything smells like metal and oil covered up by motel soap. Why do people find that so hot?
Steve glances up over his book at
the sound of you entering the room. He
smiles. “Hey, doll.”
You stop dead. “You have got to be kidding me,” you mutter,
taking him in. He’s lounging back on the
bed in nothing but a pair of low riding sweats.
And as if that wasn’t bad enough, he was still growing out his
beard. And—God help you—he was wearing
Lance puts his foot down, and Shiro/Slav have a long overdue talk.
Shiro never figured Lance for the snapping type. They all had their moments, under the constant stress of intergalactic rebellion, but Lance kept a reasonably calm lid on it – his self-titled “rivalry” with Keith aside. Looking at him now, there is only surprise at the way he’s holding himself, the set of his expression: Lance looks both nervous and pissed off.
‘Keith – could you give us a minute?’ he says, in a deliberately calm voice. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Keith hesitate, as if reading the tenseness of the situation and worrying that it might get out of hand. ‘Now, Keith. Go check on Slav’s sector.’
Reluctantly, and with a suspicious look at them both, Keith exits. Lance looks even more nervous when he does. More so when silence settles on them, and he raises a brow at Lance. Well? says the look, say what you have to.
‘I just… you’re way too hard on him,’ Lance repeats, a far cry from the irritated way he’d snapped Can’t you just cut Slav some slack? ‘He’s trying to help, Shiro. I-it’s not… he doesn’t mean to annoy you. It’s just how he… is.’
‘Excuse me?’ His previous calm turns to surprise. He keeps his voice low, not meaning to menace – but Lance scowls a little deeper, mistaking it for nonchalance. ‘Don’t, Shiro. You sound just like Iverson when you do that, a-and he was an ass,’ Lance says, voice rising only in pitch. Angry and nervous, like a cornered cat. Shiro takes a small step back to give him breathing room, but Lance stays tense. ‘Slav only wants to help. You treating him like a nuisance isn’t – it’s not fair, okay. He can’t help being jumpy; he was a prisoner for ages –’
It takes a second or two for that to sink in. When Shiro goes quiet, when his stare goes vacant as he processes this, Lance steps forward, speech picking up momentum as he grew more defensive.
‘– and it’s not easy to adapt out here,’ there’s a note of hurt in his voice, and it hits Shiro more than the chastising. ‘Slav got taken from his people and thrown into a war just like we did. He’s handling it different. YOU handled it different, we all did. I thought you’d understand him because of it, since you both got tortured by the Galra.’
That’s almost an accusation, and now Shiro fully understands what has Lance so fired up, so recalcitrant. And that understanding brings with it a sense of guilt, especially with the way Lance had said I THOUGHT you’d understand.
I’m seeing a lot of young transgender or non-binary people out there freaking out or going completely silent and removing all their info from their bios in light of the recent news in America. And I get that, I really, truly do.
But I also want you guys to know that it’s safe to come talk to me if you’re feeling pressured or scared or angry or whatever you’re feeling. If you’re comfortable with talking to me, go for it. :)
Secondly, if you’ve spoken to me about your gender for whatever reason, and are feeling scared about someone else finding out or you being being outed for any reason, please know that I will never reveal anything we have spoken about, anything you have sent to me or asked me about (as an anon or not) to anyone. What we discuss is private, and unless you give me permission to respond publicly or speak about it to others, it will stay between us. Always.
I hardly see any posts out there about this so I guess I’ll be the one to do it.
To all my beautiful followers with eczema, vitiligo, birthmarks, psoriasis, or any other skin condition-you are beautiful.
For all my lovely guys, girls, and non binary friends going to prom this year and feeling self conscious as hell-I love you & you are beautiful. You slay in that dress or tux. I know it’s not easy but your skin condition does not define you.
“I am not just a mom,” Mary said, trying to hold back her frustration but she was failing, “And you are not a child.”
“I never was.” Dean quickly responded with sadness in his voice, “I gave up knowing my own daughter so that she could be a child. Do you know wha-what I’d do if I could be just a dad? To know my own kid? You have that chance and your-” Dean stopped himself before he got too worked up. “So between us and them-”
“It’s not like that.” Mary interrupted her oldest son.
“Yeah Mary, it is.” Dean cut in with a serious face which Mary returned, however it was easy to see that Dean’s words had hurt her. “And you made your choice. So there’s the door.” Dean finished, pointing up towards the door as his emotions nearly broke through. He walked away, unable to be in the same room as his mother anymore.
Sam moved out of his seat to follow Dean, however Mary called to him, “Sam-” She said.
Sam looked up at his mother with tears in his eyes, “You should go.” He told her.
“Dean has a daughter?” She asked, drawing Sam’s attention back into the conversation.
Sam simply nodded his head, thinking of you caused more emotions to rise within him, bringing more tears to his eyes. “Yeah, Y/N, she-she’s five.” Sam replied thickly with emotion.
“And why doesn’t he see her?” Mary questioned.
Sam looked back at his mother with unbelieving eyes, “This life that we live, Dean wanted better for her; he wanted her to be a child. So we stay away.” Mary slowly nodded her head as she took in her youngest child’s words, “You really should go.” Sam repeated himself,
❗❗ Hey, please DO NOT buy from Milkybread’s online store. (twitter: @milkybreads_ , tumblr: milkybreads ) Their most recent product is a set of haikyuu acrylic stands, and the Bokuto one in particular was blatantly traced from another artist’s work. Most of their drawings were in fact traced from works of other artists, including oldxian, gusari, etc… They have been copying for over a year and the line was crossed when they started MAKING PROFIT from something that was TRACED. When someone direct messages them to stop copying, they brush it off with excuses that their style is just “
mixes of other artists [they] adore too…” Clearly their drawings are traced and they don’t even remove them.
It is really upsetting to see someone with over 4k+ followers on twitter and tumblr get away with tracing art.
Finally, the fifth addition to the Divorce Series AU. I was inspired by two books written by Colleen Hoover, ‘November 9 and Hopeless’, I highly recommend giving it a read. They are amazing.
Let me know in my ask box if you guys are enjoyed this part.ENJOY! :)
Summary: Dean reflects on the evening, and the two of you have a heart to heart
Pairing: AU!Dean x Reader
Word Count: 2,600
Warnings: mild smuttiness, language because I generally swear like a sailor, anxiety, some sadness, discussions of a breakup
A/N: this part isn’t super eventful, per se, but there’s plenty in there, like the sexy times I promised to you guys AND to Dean let’s be real (it’s not true smut b/c I’m bad at writing it so I didn’t, but there’s plenty discussed) and there’s a pretty serious chat… so enjoy! There’s still more to come!