Props to you if you got there

Fine 😒

Defend Taylor Swift if you want. Thats within your right as a fan. But if you’re one of those people who will defend her and claim “feminism” and then not defend Leslie Jones who did nothing to deserve that racist vitriol that got thrown at her then I’m gonna need you to sit the fuck down and have a whole row of seats.
Props to y'all who did manage to do both. You might just be a little better than the rest of us.

anonymous asked:

23, 41, and 53 with Steve and a female reader? Lots of angst but ends with fluff? Congrats of yoir 1k, sweetheart! You're a great writer and you deserve more!

23.   “Have you lost your damn mind!? 

41.   “You need to wake up because I can’t do this without you.” 

53.   “I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.”

Word Count: 1, 466

Genre: Angst/Romance

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

A/N: I GOT SO CARRIED AWAY, I COULDN’T STOP MYSELF. ENJOY NONNIE!


The team were huddled under a slab of ground propped against the side of a building- Thor’s hand was laying flat against it to keep it stable. Everyone was panting with what might as well have been buckets of sweat littering every part of their skin. Uniforms were torn, skin was bleeding and you were struggling to hold yourself together. It seemed impossible for this to become a successful mission.

Within 25 minutes you had witnessed more suffering and death than ever before, and most of the team were the same, leaving most of you mentally exhausted. Yet the mission was far from done. Hydra had ambushed you with the biggest and toughest army you’d possibly fought or would ever fight. There was not enough of anything- not enough bullets, not enough time, and not enough of the good guys. And you were tired, tired in every way, your head was lolling on your shoulders and your grip on the gun strapped to your hip was loosening.

“We’re far from done here, Clint, I’m going to need you and Stark to get the rest of the civilians out of the area-“

“Steve this is a dead end, we’re completely outnumbered in all aspects,” Clint sighed, resting his head on his knees. Nat was pushed against his shoulder.

“We can’t give up now, we can do this,” Steve pushed out the words, his expressions and body saying the complete opposite to what you were hearing.

“God Steve, look at us, we’re done,” Clint countered.

“Fine. Thor and I can take this one, get back on the plane and if I tell you to leave you do it. Got it?” Steve sighed, getting to his feet along with everyone else. He glanced down at you who was still sitting and held his palms out to you. Your shaking hands grabbed his and he hoisted you to your boot clad feet. He rustled up a small smile and began running out from the makeshift shelter, Thor following in his footsteps.

Wanda stumbled over to you, linking her arm around yours. Her head rested on your bruised shoulder as you shook your head softly. “I can’t let him go out there on his own, Maximoff.”

She lifted her head and said, “Look, he’s a supersoldier he’s got this, he’ll be back in no time and you can finally go on that date you’ve been putting off.”

You freed your arm from your grip and bent down to grab the knife sitting on her calf. You snapped up quickly and backed away from her. “Please just go to the plane.”

Wanda reached out for you but you had already begun sprinting off towards the two men throwing their weapons sloppily. You stood next to Steve who was giving orders to Thor and asked what you could help with.

“Y/N, you can stay on the grou-“ Steve began, but stopped when the realisation hit him, “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I’m not letting us find another reason not to go on our date,” You smiled as you flipped around the knife in your hand. Steve grinned at you and you ran forward and began slicing at the hydra soldiers who came near you.

“Y/L/N, have you lost your damn mind?” Steve laughed gently through the earpiece.

“Blame yourself, Rogers”


You wouldn’t admit it, but you were struggling against the many fighters throwing themselves at you with deadly weapons all aiming towards you. In particular, you were having a heated battle with one of the strongest soldiers there. He had a large silver blade in one hand and a sleek black gun in the other, with many more weapons strapped to his back. Dodging constantly, you tried to aim at his torso but you seemed to hit air every time.

The fight seemed to last hours but it was mere minutes until your footing started getting messy and all sense of hand-eye coordination was gone. Yet, the Hydra agent seemed to be feeding off of your mistakes and he was slowly overpowering you. His blade sliced your palm slightly as you tried to dodge his weapon. Worriedly, you looked over to Steve who was entangled in a fight himself and Thor was knocking multiple agents out with one wave of his hammer. You were alone.

As your feet stumbled over one another you offered a blow to the agent and successfully cut through the flesh on his thigh. He yelped out in pain but quickly recovered by snatching your only weapon from your hands. Evidently, he was smirking at you as moved closer, your weapon now comfortably sitting in his hand. His leg wacked out and flipped you onto your back. The small knife that belonged to Wanda was pressed roughly to your neck and your hands were being held tightly to the ground.

You closed your eyes as you waited for the Hydra agent to end the fight, and focused on the throbbing in your palm to remember that you were alive. But the cold was lifted from your neck. You opened your eyes to the agent who was staring at the blade in his hands. Though you weren’t worried, you saw Steve running behind the man in black, determination covering his face. All your energy was concentrated on trying to break free, though you were focused on Steve and how fast he was running. Steve was going to save you. You knew it.

Then, you felt it. The sharp metal being pushed into your abdomen. It was as if you could feel it yet you couldn’t feel anything. No pain was there as the Hydra agent pulled it away from your body. If it wasn’t for seeing the crimson liquid spilling out, then you would believe you hadn’t actually been stabbed. In the moment you didn’t really believe it. You just believed that Steve was coming to free you from the grips of the yellow toothed man that resembled a human sized rat.

And he did. He did get the man off of you. But he couldn’t save you from the gaping hole that was staining your clothes red.

“Y/N, stay with me, there’s someone coming to help you” Steve gasped. The most horrific look was etched onto his features and his eyes appeared to be clouding over.

You reached your hand up to his cheek. It was hot and damp from sweat, and now what seemed to be salty tears trickling down them. Swiping your thumb under his eyes, you collected a droplet on the pad of your thumb and smiled, “I totally had him on the ropes. I wore him out for you.”

Steve let out a pained laugh, his right hand applying as much pressure as he could to your wound. “Does it hurt?” He stupidly asked.

“Nah, I feel peachy.” You grinned, still wiping the small trail of tears. “And I also-“

Breathing was becoming harder no matter how deeply you were trying to breathe. You tried your damn hardest to keep your eyes open but fighting with the agent and also fighting to breathe, had worn you out completely. You heaved your chest in hope that it would stop the hot sensation in your stomach stop but nothing would make it disappear, not even the high amount of pressure Steve was applying.

“What is it?” Steve asked, his free hand was brushing the stray pieces of hair from your face.

The blue of his eyes seemed to be brighter than before, though you put it down to the lack of oxygen that was blurring your vision. “I’m not terrified of dying, Steve.”

Steve shook his head vigorously, “Don’t say things like that, Bruce and Tony are on their way with Dr. Cho.”

Smiling at him you reached up to twirl the blonde strands of his hair between your fingers, “But-“ Your eyes closed for a moment as you whispered, “I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.”

Steve shook you gently, your eyes flickered open to see him crying and grinning- if anyone saw him they’d think he was a madman. “So you’re terrified of loving me, but not of dying?”

“Without a doubt.”

He diverted his attention to your wound, the blood seemed to be pouring out of it, no matter how much pressure he was applying. His head whipped around in search of Bruce and Tony that said they’d be there straight away and that you’d be fine.

“They should be here a-“ Steve started, but as he turned around he noticed you’d closed your eyes again and he knew that no matter what you had to stay awake. ““You need to wake up because I can’t do this without you.” 

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily, Rogers.”

sgntsbarnes  asked:

hello!! (it's kurtwxgners btw) I just wanted to request "things we said in a hotel room" with Alex bc we all know how much I love that boy! ✨

Hi!!! Alex Summers is the Light of My Life™ and writing him is a joy

Alex Summers + things you said in a hotel room

A/N: yay roadtrip au!

The clear mid-morning sunlight streams through the window and across the hotel room floor. You deposit the coffee and donuts you had just purchased as breakfast on a table, crossing the room to flop down on the bed beside Alex, who is drowsily blinking awake, taking in his surroundings. You drape your folded arms over his torso, propping your chin up on your hands and looking up at him.

“Good morning.” You say, smiling affectionately.

“Morning, sweetheart.” He slings an arm loosely around your waist, tucking the other behind his head.

“I got breakfast,” You nod your head slightly towards the table where you left the food and he grins

“My thanks to the 7-11 across the road.” He remarks and you giggle.

“Providing breakfast to road trippers everywhere since 1927,” You quip, and he laughs. The sunlight catches the sharp angles of his jaw and you don’t even try to stop yourself from reaching up to trace it with your fingertips. He leans into your touch, letting out a low hum of appreciation. “Where do you wanna go today?” You ask absentmindedly, more than a little hypnotized by the blue of his eyes. Alex pauses, considering the question, removing his hand from behind his head to push a strand of hair out of your eyes.

“Dunno. I think there are some cool things on the way to Route 12 through Utah, which is supposed to be really pretty, but I don’t really mind. We could go anywhere.” The idea is enticing. You’ve been on the road for a while, but for some reason, today, in this hotel room, an intoxicating sense of possibility overtakes you, illuminating every potential path with hidden adventure.

“Anywhere?” you say, and the idea of an open road makes your head spin, filling you with a warm sense of happiness and making you a little giddy. Alex’s arm tightens around your waist, flipping the two of you over till he’s hovering above you, and the brilliant smile that stretches across his face as he looks down at you makes your heart swell.

“Anywhere.”

2

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Little Spoon (Drabble)

Character: Dean Winchester

Warning: None

Word Count: 280

Fic:

    You have known Dean long enough to know he isn’t sleeping. What he’s doing is pretending to be asleep, trying to convince you that his mind is at ease enough to to catch some shut eye, that this hunt you just finished hasn’t taken a toll mentally as well as physically. Even from here in the doorway you can see a dark bruise marring his left shoulder and bicep, the only reward he got for tackling a mother changeling. With a sigh, you quietly move to crawl into bed behind him, settling under the blankets and propping yourself up on one elbow.

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writing prompt: “I’m afraid- so terrified I can hardly stand it. But what am I supposed to do? I’ve got to keep trying”   ( credit )

pairing: Bucky x avenger!Reader 

(reader can read and control people’s bad emotions and memories - either ease or worse them)

words: 1.4k

fluff/angst (??)

hope you like it! Please let me know what you think! :)


Bucky inhaled deeply as his eyes opened and adjusted to the darkness of the room. He slowly propped himself on his left arm and looked around the room, realising he wasn’t feeling your body beside him. He had another nightmare that started like every other one, memories playing in his head, but since your accident with you beside him they always became less and less scary, changing to him escaping Hydra all safe and sound and then calmly waking up. 

He didn’t knew much about your powers since you never shared any details with anyone in the team besides Tony and Bruce, of course. They needed to know in order to try and help you in some ways. He knew that you could read people’s negative emotions or memories and then control them, either helping them or making them feel even worse, but he hasn’t pushed you into telling him everything. You never told him you were using your powers on him because whenever he woke up you were asleep, actually pretending to be asleep but he knew you weren’t. Even before your accident you helped him with his nightames, always comforting him and spending the night awake to watch him, but this, this was something different. He always made sure to give your nose a quick kiss before pulling you closer into his arms, as a silent thank you.

This time, strangely, you weren’t in the bed and the sheets on your side of the bed were already cold, meaning you had left a good amount of time ago. He run his hand through his hair before putting his legs over the edge of the bed and then getting up. Grabbing a shirt from the chair on his way, he headed towards the door. He twisted the knob and quickly put the shirt on, exiting the room. He was so sleepy and slightly cold, his body missing the warmth of his bed. It was about 2am as he was quietly making his way through the floor, his bare foot making no sound. Were could you be?

He firstly checked your bedroom, thinking that maybe you went to sleep in your own bed, for whatever reason. His brows furrowed, concern showing on his face. The room was empty, your things in their place, clothes neatly folded, bed perfectly made, the sheets untouched. He closed the door behind him and made his way to the kitchen, going past the common room where he also didn’t find you. Bucky wished the two of you were living in a small flat, it would be way easier to find you there. He took a break in the kitchen, where he also didn’t find you, to drink a glass of water and think about any other possible places.

“Uh, hey FRIDAY?” He spoke up unsure, still not used to all the technology surrounding him.

“Yes, Mr Barnes?” The voice responded politely to him.

“Do you maybe know where Y/N is?” He was kind of looking around, like he was trying to find some sort of camera he was supposed to be talking to.

“It seems that Miss Y/N is at the balcony on the floor below, Sir.” 

He was quiet for a moment, analyzing what the voice has just said to him, wanting to ask if Y/N was okay before realising it was only some sort of robot, so he mumbled a thank you.

The now empty glass was put into the dishwasher and Bucky made his way to the balcony on the floor below using the elevator in the building. There was no music once he was inside, his mind making up small questions about your state. He still hasn’t figured out what had happened to you and he was hoping you would tell him instead of shutting him out. 

The floor was also dark and quiet, he couldn’t be bothered to turn on the lights, not really wanting to drawn any attention of his friends and simply too tired to care about the light. He saw the the glass door that lead to the balcony were slightly open, your small form visible sitting outside, on the left side of them.

“Hey, doll. What are you doing here at that hour, huh?” He said gently, not wanting to scare her, and sat beside her. She didn’t look at him, her eyes fixed on something far ahead. “Is everything okay? Did you have a nightmare?” His eyes were on her face, noticing how her cheeks were glistening with tears under the moonlight and city lights and how she swallowed thickly. She was sitting with her knees pressed to her chest, her arms around them. She finally shook her head lightly, “no,” before adding, “and yes.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” He didn’t want to push her, but he wished she would share it with him so he could try and help her, like she helped him every day.

“Do you know what I can do? My powers, I mean,” she didn’t even give him enough time to answer her question, “I can read and control other’s bad emotions. I can see their bad memories. And although I love the idea that I can help them, that I can ease their pain, uh- the thing is, if I do that then the pain stays in me. Their worst memories that I have helped them with, stay in my head and haunt me at night, you know.”

And then it hit him. During his nightmares he felt so calm because all of the images and emotions his mind was creating were just leaving his body to haunt hers. He felt like his heart was breaking at the thought of his girl hurting so much, and him not even realizing. She was basically fighting his demons for him, and probably other people’s too at the same time. She was never showing it, didn’t want to bother anyone as she was always so smiley and polite to everyone. She would rather suffer herself then watch her loved ones do it.

She sniffled, “I’m afraid- so terrified I can hardly stand it. But what am I supposed to do? I’ve got to keep trying. Maybe one day it will become a little bit easier, to like, exist?” She used the back of her hand to wipe her nose and closed her eyes tightly. Bucky put his strong arm around her small frame and pulled her closer to his body. She could sense how sad she made him feel, how torn in half his heart seemed to be and she broke down in his arms. He used his other hand to pull her onto his lap and kept her in his arms, gently whispering words of comfort.

“You’re so brave. You’re so goddamn brave, baby. I knew you were doing something to keep my nightmares at ease but I didn’t know how much it affected you,” he pressed his lips to the top of her head, inhaling her delicate scent. “I’m so sorry for never realizing or even asking, I’m so, so sorry.”

“It’s alright, I understand. I kind of like it that way. I’ve seen you suffering too many times and I just couldn’t lay next to you knowing I can actually take the pain away, Buck.” Her body was shaking, quiet sobs leaving her mouth and tears running down her cheeks. It pained him to see her like that. 

“I’m really not sure what to say now, love. The things you’ve done for me… I promise I will help you as much as I can, I’m sure Tony and Banner will find something to help you, too. You’re not going to be alone wth this, I promise. Just please, don’t push me away, doll.” He felt her nod her against his neck and they stayed like that for the whole night, with her sleeping safe in his arms.

Theater au

@audiaphilios I hope this is the fic you meant?  And that you don’t mind me putting it here instead of my main!

Enjoy! :-) xxxx

*****

Dex sighed.  He was going to be busy today.  He needed to repair the lights – again, build a new set, fix some props, and somehow the new actor, Nurse, had broken the door to his dressing room.  Dex got out his tools, and headed towards the dressing rooms to fix it while the actors were doing a dress rehearsal.  Hopefully he’d be done before Nurse got back, and he wouldn’t have to deal with his questions about his day.

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A little boy did not plot a coup

Maxson was like fucking 11 when she died are you guys serious. Maxson is only 20 rn.

He’s not the big asshole you guys paint him to be he’s this leader boy that barely got to mature forced into this massive war torn environment and propped up to be worshipped.

He’s full of flaws but he would not kill the Lyons; they were his only fucking family.

anonymous asked:

I guess I don't understand still having faith that Bellarke will ever happen when all we've seen for the past 6 months is the writers trying to downplay it, ignore Bellamy's character, and Eliza telling us straight-out she doesn't think it's happening. I saw it on screen in S3 too. I agree it was the plan. I just think it's changed. When the last bit of screenwriting we know they did was to attempt to prop up CL even MORE, I take it as a sign for S4.

I don’t know what show you’re watching.

They didn’t prop up CL. They killed it. L was a tragic hero who died because of her mistakes. Everything she hoped for, including love, failed. Yes, they had sex, but Clarke left. She was leaving. She explicitly chose NOT L. Polis was actually about getting Clarke back to her people, and the struggles that got in her way.

You want them to ONLY focus on bellarke, that’s not going to happen. It’s not just about Bellarke. It’s not even mostly about bellarke. 3A focused on Bellamy and Clarke separately. Because they are the two most important characters to the show, and I’m pretty sure they wanted both characters to be independent and strong as individuals not codependent.

The writers did not down play Bellarke. All of 3b is full on Bellarke. 

I don’t understand how you watch the show, see Bellarke in the show. Watch the show with Bellarke canonically together setting up to save the world, as a pair. 

And then say the writers have changed their minds? 

How do you know? 

There’s no show yet. 

Are you taking Eliza’s con panel’s as your proof? That’s not proof of anything but what Eliza thinks and wants to tell people.

Even the official things about s4 have been about finding hope and working together to stop the end of the world and looking for something to live for. They’ve set up S4 to be centered around Bellarke.

How is this changing their minds about what the show is about?

And I really don’t understand your statement about them ignoring Bellamy’s character. About 50% of season 3 was about Bellamy, his struggles, his failures, his morality, becoming a hero, becoming a leader, committing to doing what is right, not just this whole, awful, xenophobic premise of “I do what is right for my people.” Which, in case you missed it, is the same damned philosophy we’ve seen on The Ark, in Mount Weather, from Lxa with her constant wars and betrayal, and from Pike. Even Luna, who refused to help, because she wanted her comfortable oasis of peace, damn the rest of the world burning.

This is the way all the survivors have been living, and this the kind of society that keeps leading to discord and war and destruction.

So Bellamy changing, from “my sister, my responsibility” to sacrificing his people, even Clarke,  in order to save the world and all those people he doesn’t even know? This is called character development. And basically the whole Arkadia story line was the battle over Bellamy’s soul. Bellamy becomes the hero in season 3. Not the rebel. Not the knight. Not the follower. Not the student or the lieutenant or even the dad. The hero.

But okay, if you think that means they aren’t paying attention to Bellamy’s character, I don’t know what to tell you.

Supervision || Wade Wilson x Reader

A\N: Writer’s block is a bitch. Finally got the motivation to finish this. I am seriously very sorry for the long wait. Enjoy you guys.

Prompt No.20: “It’s all about skill, precision and- oh fuck just hit it!”

Request: “Okay, this is gonna be hilarious. Deadpool with prompt 20, please and thank you! ^w^”


“You know it’s surprising that they actually left us here unsupervised,” you said as you propped your feet up on the work table. Wade and you were here to assist the Avengers on one of their missions. Or at least that was the intention with which you two came to the Tower. Steve and Natasha were not so hot with the idea of you two accompanying them but Tony and Rhodey agreed that you two were needed. So as the Avengers were discussing the situation in the living area of the tower, you and Wade were left alone in Tony’s lab, the sacred area.

“Are you fucking kidding? I am supervision! I’m a fucking responsible adult!” he swivled around knocking tool box to the ground, making you raise your eyebrows at him. “That was already on the ground before I got here.”

“Yeah sure it was,” you rolled your eyes at him getting up from your spot and walking around to him. “The last time you were here Wade; you blew up the microwave because you forgot to take out the spoon from the bowl you were heating.”

He bent over in fake pain. “OW. Hitting me right where it hurts!”

You shook your head and stepped to where a strange contraption was placed. “Man, Stark does work on very weird stuff.”

However, Wade wasn’t listening to you. He was looking around the room, narrowing his eyes. “Hey [Y\N]? Does Rob- I mean Tony have any cameras installed here?”

“Uh, I don’t know. Why do you ask?”

“I’m getting a strange feeling like I’m being watched. And not by cameras. By real people. With eyes. Who are hanging on to each….and…..every…single…word I say.”

You looked at him weirdly. “Yes Wade. People have eyes. Look at this weird thing though. What do you reckon it does?”

Wade sauntered over to you and put his hands on his hips. “I don’t fucking know. That Downe- STARK, fucking shit I gotta stop doing that, sure does come up with weird stuff.”

You spotted a red coloured button and smirked. “I’m gonna press it.”

“Yeah sure go ahead. So that if we get kicked out, it’s all your fault.”

You took a step forward and pressed the button. The device started to whir and click and smoke started to come out of it. You panicked and started to press the button repeatedly in hopes of shutting the machine down. It only seemed to make it worse.

“You could lend a hand, avocado face!”

He pushed you aside and raised a knowingly finger at you. “It’s all about skill, precision and- oh fuck just hit it!”

And with that he brought down his fists of fury on the machine. It spewed out some more smoke and made more clicking noises before shuddering and stopping altogether.

“I think we’re officially banned for life,” you said horrified.

“I hate to say this, unicorn, but you’re damn right.”

Send us a Prompt

~Charlie

@marvelfanfichq
Motivation

Character: Sam Winchester

Warning: None

Word Count: 536

Fic:

    “You look bored,” Sam states.

    “Just enjoying the view,” you reply. Slippers on, slouching back against the couch, feet propped up on the coffee table, you have a front row seat to Sam’s daily morning workout; it’s a show worth watching.

    Sam rolls his eyes but smiles as he starts in on a set of lunges. Despite the AC pumping into the room, there’s a sheen of sweat that makes his hair cling to his face, and by this point the shirt he’s got on is stained with sweat in the front and back. His breath comes in measured inhales and exhales. He’s positively marvelous like this, though perhaps fewer clothes would make the experience more pleasurable.

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Skin update:
*ignore my lil double chin*
So I had said i’d update you guys or whoever is interested in my skin care journey ever since I got the aztec clay mask. (Ill include the link at the end)
So in the first picture is a few weeks after I started using the clay mask my skin got so horrible I had small break outs but this was just bad I don’t know if it was the clay mask bringing out all the bad shit that was under the skin but I honestly feel like it was my foundation I was using the infallible by loreal because even to this day if I wear it immediately after taking it off my skin looks like crap.
Second picture is a month in a half in, I started using the clay mask in april btw. My skin was still pretty shitty and I was using the mask once or sometimes even twice a week. I also started toning with witch hazel and changed my foundation and moisturizer and face wash. I now use the born this way by too faced great coverage by the way the shade range is crap tho, i use a hemp moisturizer and the pink grapefruit acne wash. I refuse to sleep w/ my make up on and only wear it when im going out (literally twice a week) and moisturize all the time.
Last picture is today my skin is so much better its still pretty shitty but compared to the first picture which is in late April my skin has come a long way, I still have acne but its not as bad as before I have mostly acne scaring so if anyone knows how to get rid of those hmu. As for the clay I still use it twice a week. I feel like that and my simple skin care routine has definitely helped, the clay really does open up your pores and draw everything out my mom even noticed immediately after I started using the mask. The only thing is I used a thick consistency and that shit would itch so fucking much so if you have sensitive skin I don’t recommend it also it leaves your face super red. Hmu if you got questions.
Heres the link http://www.vitaminlife.com/index/page/product/product_id/16624/product_name/Indian+Healing+Clay?gclid=CP65uJ_g580CFQWUfgodeMUNKQ , if your a mutual and live in the socal area and want some clay hmu I got the two pound tub and theres plenty to go around.

You know what, major props to Cesaro for voicing what he did. Because he was completely honest there and spoke up about how he really felt about being drafted to RAW. It also isn’t all that often he does speak up about how he really feels and, you know, hopefully he gets good things on RAW because he deserves it.

iused-topaint-incolour  asked:

Natasha x Reader(fem) if thats okay? Number 3 "Please, dont leave"

3. “Please, don’t leave.”


You’ve known from the very beginning the hard bumps you’d hit getting into a relationship with an Avenger. She has always been a puzzle; never letting much of a conversation revolve around herself, yet always sure to make you happy. Of course, that made for a good listener, but these days you’ve just felt selfish.

“What are you thinking about?” you would question as you both lay in the couch, her fingers twirling a strand of you hair as she props herself up to stare at you.

She’d smile down at you and reply, “How beautiful you are.”

That’s how it all begins. You notice how little you really know about her — your girlfriend. It all falls into pieces eventually. She tells you she has got nothing to say. She bitterly says that she wouldn’t expect you to understand. You beg her, “Then help me to.”

There are tears in her eyes when she shakes her head. She storms out your apartment, and you become overcome with the fear that she wouldn’t come back. 

Hours later, she does.

Before you can apologize, she presses a kiss to your lips and sits you down in the bedroom. With a deep, shaky breath, she tells you everything.

You are perhaps very clearly taken aback at her story. You are unaware that you are crying until she pulls you into her arms and lets out a half-hearted laugh. “Don’t cry,” she murmurs into your hair.

“I’m sorry, Nat.”

“Don’t be.”

“I’m so, so sorry…”

She takes your chin in her forefinger and thumb and tilts your head up to look at her. “Hey,” she says, smiling softly. “Everything that happened, every horror, and I would have never expected to be where I am now. Happy, and with the woman I love.”

Suddenly it becomes your turn to pull her into your arms. She stiffens at first, but gives in, and after a few seconds do you feel the tears staining your shirt. “I don’t deserve you,” she whispers into your shoulder.

You shake your head. “You deserve the world, Natasha.”

“N-No… I’m not…”

You shush her, tightening your arms around her middle. The moment lasts for a while. 

Yet, everything feels so incredibly and unfairly cut short when she doesn’t return after that night. The fear returns; that she would never come back. You do see her on TV following the events of the wreck in D.C. before a Senate committee. At the sight of her turning her back at the end, you can’t help but ponder where she would go.

Hours later, she appears at your door once again. 

You can’t help but feel that this would be the last time she would do this. Your suspicions become immense worry that night, when you lay in bed and tangled in sheets. The three words leave your mouth and linger unanswered: “Please, don’t leave.”

She lets out a sigh. “Y/N, you know I have to.”

“Then I’ll come with you.”

She shakes her head. “It’s not safe.”

You do eventually give up. She leaves in the morning, just before you stir awake. This time, you don’t dwell. You don’t shed a tear. Instead, you turn to bury all the time you’ve spent with Natasha Romanoff in your memory, leaving it all untouched until you hear a series of knocks on your door two years later.

You open it. You are stunned at the sight of her. Her hair is longer. Her eyes still look like they’ve seen much more than you know. But in light of recent events, you aren’t unaware of the Avengers’ split. It’s clear that she has nowhere else to go.

She doesn’t greet you with “Hey.” 

She greets you with “I’m sorry.”

You muster up a small, sad smile. “I know.”

With that, you take a tentative step to the side, allowing her to enter once more.

notsowickedwitchofthewest  asked:

Hey! So a fellow student and myself just finished cleaning and organizing the prop room at our university and we are trying to come up with ways to catalog everything. I was wondering if you or anyone else on techblr has any ideas or suggestions? We need it to be able to include pictures, be easily searchable, and sharable. Thanks!

*whistles* hey Propblr! @backstageleft @propitlikeithot @propsistops etc.

my instinct would be shelves and bins and photos of what’s in the bins and map it out in some fashion but literally all the prop storage I’ve seen at the companies I’ve worked with has been different. But make it so that if you got hit by a bus and the company needed some random obscure prop, they could find it without you.

And leave room to grow, but not too much room?

Good luck!

Alphabet - Chen fluff

No one requested this, but it was inspired by my friend who sung the alphabet backwards when I was fangirling to hard about her bias <3


You felt absolutely fine. It’s not like it was finals week and you just happened to be taking the hardest class load of your academic career. And you ran out of coffee yesterday and hadn’t had time to get more. Your dog got sick a few days ago. There was a ketchup stain on a less-than-desirable place on your pants and WHO THE HECK CARES ABOUT POSITION VECTOR VALUE FUNCTIONS?!

So that’s how you found yourself criss-cross on your living room floor with papers scattered everywhere, rainbow-colored from your diligent highlighting work. You had two days to go until your first test: dreaded calculus. Just the mere thought of your reptilian, heartless professor made you dizzy and your head fell into your waiting hands as your elbows propped themselves up on your knees. 

Desperately rubbing your temples in an attempt to calm your nerves, you started to sing the alphabet backwards. You knew it was a rather weird nervous habit, but doing it made you feel at least a little bit in control. It had worked for you since the first semester biology final during junior year of high school. 

In the middle of your second repeat of the familiar tune, you heard a loud snort coming from the kitchen. Tilting up your head to look, you found your boyfriend’s face peeking out from kitchen. A smug smile on his face, he teased, “Jagiyah, what are you doing?”

On normal days, your heart would have melted at the way the corners of his mouth were perpetually turned upwards and how his eyes were smiling at you. But today was not a normal day. 

“IT CALMS ME DOWN, OKAY?!”

His eyes widened at your little outburst and he pouted at you… classic Jongdae. 

You felt your eyes start to get damp as you felt guilty, the stress sinking in even deeper. 

His eyes softened as he walked towards you. “Let me help.”

You felt him sit down behind you with his legs stretched out on both side of your body. Automatically leaning into his warmth, your head rested against the crook of his neck and shoulder. 

His larger hands replaced your own as he gently massaged your head. His fingers rubbed soothing circles into your scalp and he felt your body relax more against his. 

He was surprised when he heard a sniffle come from you, and the tell-tale slight shoulder shrug as tears started to fall. “Yah, why are you crying?” he whines. You smiled because you could practically hear the small frown on his face. 

“You’re just being really sweet and I’m being a total butt…. and I’m so so-”

One of his hands quickly moved to squish your cheeks together and you squeaked in surprise. You looked up in confusion and slight annoyance. 

Jongdae laughed at your ridiculous face, causing you to furrow your eyebrows. “You aren’t allowed to cry or apologize right now. Sing it again!!!”

Rolling your eyes at his antics, you cleared your throat much too dramatically as he released his grip on your face. 

You belted out, “Z-Y-X-W-V-U-”

Jongdae began to harmonize with you, his clear-as-day voice ringing out with your own. A beautiful, cacophony filled your apartment as the song was broken up by giggles and Jongdae’s notoriously loud screams. No more tears fell that night. 


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anonymous asked:

Laying on Harry while he plays with your hair for ages 😍

Did you mean: my dream?

Just laying on his stomach or shoulder, maybe both of us reading our own books and he’s got his propped open with one hand while he’s just rubbing your strands between his fingertips, maybe flicking the ends a bit with his hand, and sometimes rubbing your scalp cause he likes it when you do that so he figures he’ll return the favor. Sometimes he just grabs a fistful for a moment, but it’s different than if he pulls it while he’s making love to you – it’s tender, like he’s holding onto the moment, not just the strands. 

puns - vmin

request: “you must be an electron because I’m a halogen and you make me positively charged, in other words I got my ion you” basically just chemistry puns

// drabble game // 

“You must be an electron-”

Not again. 

“Because I’m a halogen, and you make me positively charged.”

Jimin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose while giving Taehyung a long glare. He must have been getting a mighty fine kick out of these dumb ass jokes, because he really wasn’t giving up. “What the fuck does that mean . . ?” he grumbled.

The taller smiled brightly, flipping his book shut and propping his head up on the table and winking. “It means I’ve got my ion you.”

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