a serrated knife

Hand to Hand

A/N: Bucky is teaching you hand to hand combat when uh….things get interesting.

“Doll, keep your hands up. Parallel to each other like I’ve showed you.” I do as he commands and he gives a nod of approval. “Excellent, now I’m going to reach out and I want you to block my hit.”

“Okay.” I nod.

“On the count of three…one…”

His hand propels forward and I screamed out. “You said on the count of three not one.”

“Predict your opponent’s move.”

I reach out with a jab and he blocks it effortlessly, using that moment to tap me in my ribs. “You’re leaving your body unprotected.”

I sweep a hand in front of my stomach and he taps me on the neck. I grunt, propelling forward my punch landing on his rib, which was a mass of muscle. “Good girl.”

I smiled thinking of the only other time he calls me a good girl, which doesn’t involve clothing.

He taps me in the stomach again. “What the hell, that hurts.”

“Pay attention.”

“I am.” I say defensively as he blocked my punch. “Why do I need to do this?”

“You need to learn how to protect yourself.”

I rolled my eyes. “Why when I have a deadly assassin for a boyfriend.”

He exhales deeply. “I’m no longer an assassin.” He replies tersely. “What if you find yourself in a situation when I’m off on a mission? What will you do then?”

He doesn’t give me any warning before he lunges forward and I stumbled backwards.

“I won’t need to learn hand to hand combat if I had a gun or a knife.”

“Is that so?”

I nod.

He reaches from behind revealing a sleek black knife with a serrated edge and intricate symbols on the blade. “Where the hell did that come from?” I asked looking puzzled.

“Doll, I have five weapons on my person as we speak.“He states, slipping the sheath in his pants pocket.

"Right now?”


“Where?” I asked, My eyes darting to different parts of his body.

He ignores me. He holds the knife in his palm. “If you can grab this knife from my hand, not only will I give it to you, but I’ll teach you how to use it.”

I lunge forward, but his palm closes. “You’ll have to be faster than that.”

“You have an unfair advantage.”

We both look at his arm. “My arm? Are you serious?” I nod. “Fine.”

He puts his left arm behind his back then opens the palm of his right hand, dangling the knife skillfully in front of me. I take a step forward and the knife disappears out of sight. I used this moment to hit him in the chest.

“You’re leaving your body unprotected.” I teased.

The next actions happened so quickly, I don’t know if I should be impressed, frightened or turned on. He tosses the knife up in the air, sweeps my legs from beneath me in one swift movement, his left arm cradles my fall as we both hit the floor and in another split second he catches the knife without looking and stabs it into the space above my head.

“Your pupils are dilated.” He observes.

I wonder if he could hear my heart palpitations as my heart raced abnormally in my chest. The vibration of my pulse in my veins pounded loudly in my ears as I became aware of our bodies, mainly the throbbing pressed into my hip.

“Is that one of the five weapons you have on your person.” I say all breathy.

He bites his bottom lip and smirked, leaning his face next to my ear. “No, this weapon is not like the others.”

“How so?” I asked inhaling deeply, fully aware of the movements of my body and how with every inhalation his limbs sinks deeper into my own.

He paused, gazing intently at my parted lips sucking in air that was tinged with my lust and his sweat.

“This weapon is dangerous when provoked.” He threatens. His cerulean eyes becoming volcanic as I felt the explosion of heat radiating out of my apex and the noticeable growth and hardening of his throb.

“Bucky.” I breathed as his tongue grazed my bottom lip..

He pins my wrists above my hand that scrapes the serrated knife and presses his full weight on top of me as he spread my legs with his knee.

Sons of Lawrence #10

Summary:  Sons of Anarchy meets Supernatural. In this AU, the Winchesters run the most notorious biker gang in Lawrence. They traffic illegal drugs, weapons, and anything else that makes them money and keeps them on top.
Characters in this chapter: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, John Winchester, Gadreel, Crowley
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Word Count: 1,344
Warnings: Language, angst, casual drug use.
Author’s Note: This series isn’t going to be light and fluffy. It will include explicit language, explicit sexual content, casual use of illegal drugs, explicit canon typical violence.
Miss the beginning?

It was after Mary had fallen asleep that you decided to tell John and Sam about Gadreel. Dean still hadn’t returned, but you couldn’t keep it to yourself any longer.

You were pulling a deep drag from your second cocaine-laced cigarette and your leg was bouncing nervously under the intense gaze from two very intimidating men.

“This man,” John started, voice rough with barely keeping his emotions under control. “You saw him?”

“Today,” you said tremulously. “He delivered a bouquet of flowers; lilies. They were my favorite, until…” your voice trailed off as you stood and showed them your scar-adorned stomach.

While both men had their share of scars, they hissed and winced as if they themselves felt the pain. Then, there eyebrows drew together and dark rage rolled into their eyes. Sam, who was sitting next to you, reached out and ran his thumb over the scar. You did your best not to wince -it still hurt every now and then- or pull away from his inquisitive touch.

“Serrated butcher knife,” you muttered, answering his unasked question. “Pushed it in to the hilt, and then pulled.” Using Sam’s finger, you demonstrated what happened.

Originally posted by out-in-the-open

“Son of a bitch,” John snarled. “Until Gad is dealt with, you’re staying here, Y/N.”

Sam was nodding almost violently in agreement. “We won’t let you outta our sight.”

Your hands were shaking as you pulled your shirt down. “I don’t want to intrude. I mean…” you waved a hand in the direction of where Mary was sleeping.

Originally posted by negandarylsatisfaction

John stood, rounded the small table, and grabbed your shoulders. “You’re not intruding. Besides, you saved Mary. The least I could do is offer you a safe haven.” He pulled you into him and wrapped his arms around you, hugging you tightly, only to release you a moment later when the three of you heard Mary call out.

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½ cup unsalted butter softened
1 cup granulated sugar
2 eggs at room temperature
½ teaspoon vanilla
1 ¾ cup sifted cake-and-pastry flour
1 ½ teaspoon baking powder
1 pinch salt
½ cup milk
icing sugar

Filling :
2/3 cups whipping cream
½ cup strawberry jam

Grease and flour 8- or 9-inch (1.2 or 1.5 L) round metal cake pan; line bottom with parchment paper. Set aside.

In large bowl, beat butter until light and pale, about 2 minutes. Beat in sugar, 3 tbsp (45 mL) at a time, beating for 30 seconds after each addition, about 2 minutes. Beat in eggs, 1 at a time, beating well after each. Beat in vanilla.

In separate bowl, whisk together flour, baking powder and salt; sift into butter mixture alternately with milk, making 3 additions of dry ingredients and 2 of milk. Scrape into prepared pan.

Bake in 350 F (180 C) oven until cake tester inserted in centre comes out clean, 30 to 35 minutes. Let cool in pan on rack for 10 minutes. Turn out onto rack; peel off paper. Let cool.

Filling: In bowl, whip cream. Invert cake onto platter. Using long serrated knife, cut in half horizontally. Spread with jam; top with cream. Replace top of cake. Sift icing sugar over top.

Recipe: Earl Grey Cake w/Chocolate Lavender Buttercream

Because what’s better than sipping Earl Grey tea in your jammies while toppling regimes? Eating tea flavored cake for breakfast with your cuppa while toppling regimes. 

The recipes I’ve posted so far are familiar enough, but this one was new for me. I’ll include my reactions at the end. Image heavy as usual. (I’m sorry.) 

Tagging for @alexandre00q re:Slack chat (I hope that’s right – I was a little turnt in the kitchen last night)

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The Signs As Kitchen Appliances

Aries: butane torch

Taurus: slow-cooker

Gemini: shoot I don’t know a wisk they’re fast

Cancer: wooden spoon

Leo: a big blue mixing bowl

Virgo: those temperature gauges u stab into turkey

Libra: a spatula (to clean up everyone’s messes)

Scorpio: can-opener (to get to the knitty-gritty)

Sagittarius: a skillet

Capricorn: a serrated knife

Aquarius: microwave

Pisces: blenders.. to dissolve everything into a big soup

Intertwined-Chapter 2

Pairings: Bucky x Reader, Steve x Reader

Warnings: ANGST. Depression, Violence, Smut, Mutant Reader (ALWAYS) powers include immortality, healing and telekinesis. Currently can’t think of anything else.

Summary: 5 years after the events of CACW, you are the live-in therapist for the newly reconciled Avengers, Steve’s Fiancé. The first words your soulmate speaks appears on your body, but only after your first conversation has taken place, making it impossible to know who your soulmate is, what will happen when Steve brings Bucky too live at the compound?  

Originally posted by busygina

Steve is staring at you with pure disbelief “Bucky is your soulmate” he states. Looking between you and his best friend. “You can’t be serious” he says. Guilt is gnawing at your brain. You’re being irrational, but you can’t help but feel responsible for your current predicament. Bucky is sitting to your left looking like he would rather be anywhere but here, Steve’s eyes are darting between you and Bucky, waiting for someone to respond to his question “I… Punk I don’ know what ta say” Bucky ventures “It aint like I walked inta her office wantin to find my soulmate” He adds dryly. “Buck, can you leave me and (y/n) alone please?” Steve grits out through clenched teeth. Bucky casts a worried glance in your direction, it passes over his face so quickly your mind barely processes it. Steve Sits quietly, leveling you with the most destroyed look you have ever seen on someones face “I cannot lose you” he whispers “Because if I ever did I’d have lost my best friend, my smile, my laugh my everything” his bottom lip is caught between his teeth, biting down so hard you can see little drop of blood forming.  “Please don’t leave me baby doll” he whispers. You rise from your chair, tears streaming down your face “Stevie, baby I’m so sorry. I’m not going to leave, I love you. Please believe me” you reassure “He was literally made for ya doll, I know what that feels like, I know how strong the pull is, you can’t promise ya won’t leave, I know because I wouldn’t be able ta promise that.” You suck in a breath “It’s you Stevie. Its always been you” you plead “Don’t push me away Cap” you grab his chin  forcing him to look at you. “I love you, I hardly know Bucky, I’ll marry you right now if that’s what it takes to make you believe me.” he stands and grabs your waist “I believe ya darlin’.” Oh thank god. Your body relaxes as he draws small circles on your hip bone “Ya gonna have ta spend time with him though” Wait, no what “hear me out (y/n), Bucky needs normal. To feel like he has someone besides me, ya know? I’ll talk ta him, we can’t avoid this Doll” Fucking Captain America making fucking sense. Motherfucker. “Alright Steven, we do this your way” resignation thick in your tone. “Thank ya darlin” He pulls you in for a kiss, your hands slipping up his arms “You’re mine, an’ you’re gonna stay that way” he murmurs against your lips. 

 Bucky’s Pov: 

His hands are shaking, breath coming out in short, sharp pants. You’re so beautiful it causes him physical pain. He can’t bear to look you in the eye, you were supposed to be his, his destiny, his love, but he can see the love you hold for Steve and it feels like a hot serrated knife is scorching its way through his chest and he can’t breathe. He needs air, because it’s obviously being sucked from his very lungs the longer he watches you with Steve. Oh yes he heard the entire conversation and every word you uttered felt like a punch straight to the solar plexus. He can’t explain the violent reaction he’s having, he wants to pull Steve apart piece by piece for touching, holding, kissing what’s his, he should be the one reassuring you, holding you close to him and he can’t fucking take it. He growls as he pushes off the wall, running his hands through his hair in frustration. You could never want him, he knows what he’s done, who he is. He’s broken, fractured, and he knows there’s no fixing what’s wrong with him. He needs space, from you, from Steve, you’re too fucking close and he can’t think. He barks out a humorless laugh as he strolls down the hallway, he chuckles at the irony of the situation; Steve never got the girls back in the 40’s, Bucky did. Oh and how the tables have turned, the one woman he truly wants can never be his because she’s already with his best friend. He knows nothing about you, but he wants to, he doesn’t know what you’re feeling or thinking but god does he want to. This burning inside his chest is screaming at him to go back, to make you his, to demand Steve to take his damn hands off you and drag you out of there. He flings himself backwards onto his bed and rubs at his eyes. Fuck he thinks, it hurts having someone in your heart, but never having them in your arms. And with that thought Bucky Barnes, infamous Winter Soldier, deadly assassin, cries for the first time in 70 years. 

 Your Pov:

 Empty, Numb. That’s how you feel after Steve leaves you alone in the lounge, the events of the last 3 hours replaying like a bad movie over in your head. You can’t begin to process what just happened, but you have the nagging suspicion that you are truly and whole heartedly fucked. You already miss Bucky’s presence and you haven’t spent more than an hour with him. You know spending more time with him isn’t going to do you any favors, the bond is only going to intensify the more time you spend with him. The fear you felt at the prospect of losing Steve is already fading and you’re completely horrified that it went away so quickly. The words Steve spoke earlier rise unbidden into your mind. “He was literally made for ya doll, I know what that feels like. I know how strong the pull is.” The realization that Bucky is already working his way underneath your skin has you chocking back sobs. I want Steve you remind yourself he’s not just another person, he’s the love of my life you’re trying to convince yourself that soulmate or not, you will not fall for Bucky Barnes. Nope. Never gonna happen. 

  How completely and spectacularly wrong you were. 

Tags:Guys i honestly do not know why you’re still reading. Like why are you guys so good too me? Also im having some issues with a couple of tags. 

@beckyyyyyx3 @smile-sugar @buckybear97 @i-had-a-life-once @minxyvixen @tilltheendwilliwrite @crownedloki @whyisbuckyso @redroomproperty @imgettingmarriedtobuckybarnes @griseldaevn @marvelous-fvcks @denialanderror @gingerbatchwife @chipilerendi @an-unholy-confession @wheresthekillswitch @buckysinthesinbin @melconnor2007 @marshmellowgems11 @38leticia @awinterloveuniverse @iamwarrenspeace @krissyxkitten @akiiiiiiiiiii @justreadingfics @adellyhatter-blog @christynjay @jessi909 @buckyappreciationsociety @youreaninjaturtle-blog @geekyambz0938 @aquabrie @gypsycat111 @avenravenforever

@stanby-reality @erinvanlyssel @gatorgal94 @capt-coldy @soldierspetangel @glitterbras @genlovesdcb @kt-the-destroyer @chameerah @opaque-daydream @darkhinata15 @bolontiku 

Beauty is pain.

I’m sure every young girl thinks this at some time or other, but my mother is really hard on me. I seem to disappoint her at every turn: with my behavior, my grades, my eating habits- anything you can name, really.

The biggest disappointment to her, however, are my looks; so far removed from her own blond, slender beauty. Though she doesn’t say it, I think she blames me for taking more after father. My unattractive looks are a constant reminder of his abandonment.

She has been talking about plastic surgery for me lately, but without much optimism. I’m far too young, for starters, but it’s more than that. I can read behind the lines of her weary shrug; how much could they really do, considering the subject? The knowledge stings, but it would be foolish to deny the truth of it.

Sometimes, when I’m feeling brave, I try to suggest that maybe I’m just meant to look the way I do. Her scolding lecture is always the same. “Beauty may be pain, darling, but it’s not as painful as the world’s punishment when you lack it!”

Her knock on my door wakes me from my musings, and I brace myself for the start of our morning ritual.

First come the contacts that sting my eyes terribly. Then the curling iron, forcing my coarse hair into submission. Makeup, applied lavishly. Nails, clipped and polished. Teeth brushed and filed.

Now comes the worst part. I grit my teeth in preparation for the familiar touch of the sharp, serrated knife on my back.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, it’s over. I’m breathless and dizzy from the pain, and barely feel her slipping the dress- carefully padded- over my shoulders and ruthlessly tightening the sash.

She steps back to examine the finished product, and I try to blink back the tears and smile, hoping this time she’ll like what she sees.

The tips of my sharp fangs have broken off and filed smooth. The crimson of my eyes is well concealed by the colored contacts, and of course, the leathery wings push that their way through my shoulder blades every night have been sawed down to bloody stumps.

“Good girl” she whispers in a moment of rare approval, carefully placing the pretty pink hair band over the horns that have been soldered down, but still manage to protrude through my elaborate hairdo.

She smiles encouragingly as she speaks the familiar words.

“Just remember: don’t be yourself today, and everyone will love you.”

Simple Black Forest Cake


  • 210g flour, sifted
  • 200g sugar
  • 200g margarine
  • 4 eggs
  • 1 tsp baking powder, sifted
  • 3 tbsp cocoa powder, sifted
  • 5 tbsp hot milk
  • 500g pitted black cherries in syrup
  • 1 heaped tbsp cornflour
  • 250ml double cream
  • 75g icing sugar
  • 1 tsp vanilla bean paste
  • 125g cream cheese
  • chocolate shavings, to decorate


Preheat the oven to 170°C. Butter the sides and line the bottom of a 20cm springform. Using a stand mixer, combine flour, sugar, margarine, eggs and a pinch of salt in a large mixing bowl until smooth, then toss in baking powder and give it a stir. In a small cup combine cocoa powder and hot milk to create a paste. Add to the batter and mix until combined. When ready, turn the mixture into the prepared tin and bake for 30-40 mins or until the skewer inserted into the middle of the cake comes out clean. Remove from the oven and cool for 5 minutes before turning out on to a wire rack. Take off the lining paper and leave the cake to cool.

Drain the cherries reserving the juice. In a small saucepan, mix cornflour with a small amount of juice until well combined, then add remaining juice. Place over a medium heat and bring slowly to the boil, stirring once in a while, until thickened. Taste and add some sugar if needed. Remove from the heat, add cherries (you can reserved a few to decorate top of the cake) and leave to cool.

Combine double cream, icing sugar and vanilla bean paste in a mixing bowl. Whip using a mixer until light and thick, then add cream cheese and mix until well combined.

When the cake is cold, cut it in half using a sharp serrated knife.
Place one half on a plate and spread it with a 2/3 of the cream filling. Top with a cherry mixture. Place the other half of the cake on top, then spread remaining cream filling over it. Decorate the cake with chocolate shavings and a few cherries.

Bon Appétit!


Coda to 12x12, Stuck In The Middle (With You). Destiel. 

I love you

Dean’s head is still spinning from the look in Cas’ eyes as he gasped it, black veins snaking up his entire body, claiming him. Consuming him whole.

Cas is family. He has been for quite some time now. But maybe he hasn’t got enough Winchester in him; maybe he’s really fallen too far. Winchesters don’t say I love you

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First of all, thank you thank you thank you to everyone who’s commented/liked/reblogged on my posts! This is long overdue and honsstly I’m blown away by the reaction you giys have had to my writing, I’m really grayeful for all of you xx

This is just a little thing I wrote at eleven o’clock at night. I didn’t have time to edit but the idea just came to me and I wanted it all out and published. Sorry for any mistakes that might be in here but I hope you guys like this. There’s not really a category for it, but I suppose it’s generally hurt/comfort. 

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: mentions of panic attack symptoms, blood, knives, hostage situation. It’s not incredibly graphic, but it’s definitely there and not totally brief. 

The wave of sickness hit you like a tsunami the moment it happened. While carnage grew around you with collapsing buildings and fires and burst water pipes, you shrank into a curled foetal position in the back of an ambulance. 

You were one of the last civilians to have been evacuated. 

You remember tearing a door open and ushering the men and women who worked in the office into the designated safe zone where they were to be taken out of a twenty mile radius to safety. 

You remember seeing flashes of Iron Man skirting between buildings, the crash of a patriotic shield, arrows cutting through the sky to meet their targets. 

When you later thought about it, you were glad that there were no children being held hostage like you were - if you were hanging by your fingertips almost ready to fall into the pit of insanity, then how could a child handle that? 

Your first guess was Hydra. After the intel had been released, along with all from an organisation called SHIELD which had been strictly formed in the first place to destroy the former, it seemed to make sense. You were held for more than twelve hours, having been kidnapped from your workspace along with thirty of your colleagues. You remember the agents releasing some kind of gas from canisters they rolled out across the office space. 

Apparently, if there was one collective weakness the Avengers had, it was innocent civilians. You think that’s what you liked most about them. 

When Sergeant Barnes had burst open the doors and taken the guards out single-handedly, you took the task of ushering everyone else out where several other agents were evacuating the area and taking you back to the city. 

Unfortunately, that’s when things went wrong. From the hands of an agent that had just been taken down, a serrated knife skidded across the concrete floor and stopped only inches away from you. Simultaneously, the second Hydra agent the soldier had been fighting was knocked to the ground, almost flying into the corner, his head smacking against the blackening drywall, his body going limp. You could see a bloody wound form near the crown of his head, his eyes glazing, but he wasn’t unconscious. 

When Barnes slid the gun back in his holster, scanning the area, looking to the side opposite to where you were first, the agent’s fingers fumbled with the gun lying close to his hand. You watched them slowly and clumsily curl around the handle, index finger edging towards the trigger.

You found yourself rolling to your side, sliding the knife in your grasp, and skidding to where he was lying, knocking the gun from his weak grasp, taking the knife and then -

You heaved and then gasped for breath, pushing the shock blanket off your shoulders desperately and placing your head in your hands, fingers reaching up into your hair. The cold air fanned over your neck and your hands and seeped through your clothes but it was more comfortable than you could hope for. 

Hot tears formed in your eyes and your throat tightened; you were just about breathing. Just about hanging by your fingertips. 

You remember being escorted out of the warehouse and being ushered into the ambulance, the blood-stained knife tight in your grip being pried away while you stayed silent in shock. 

You choked on your breath as you failed to keep your tears at bay. 


The voice was a little edged but still gentle. Kind of like the fuzzy blanket the paramedics had given you. 

You lifted your head slightly so that your eyes peeked over the protective cage of your hands. 

‘Are you alright?’ he asked, his tone the same. 

You bit your lip and, to your frustration, more tears formed in your eyes. 

It was one person. One really bad person. Someone you assumed had volunteered to be bad. You read about Hydra. You knew what they had done, specifically what they had done to the man whom you had - technically - saved from a bullet, the man who was crouched in front of you now. 

So why did it feel like this? Why did it feel like throwing up and feeling empty at the same time? Or like you were caught in a flood and standing completely famished in a desolate world? 

‘I killed someone,’ you murmured. Your voice was quiet and almost swallowed by the gentle breeze but gritted and grounding, rooting your words, anchoring them around you. 

Barnes nodded softly. ‘I know. That saved me, what you did. I should thank you.’

Your eyebrows creased into a slightly pained expression. ‘That doesn’t help,’ you said, your tone almost apologetic. Maybe he was trying to help but you weren’t sure what kind of ladder you needed to climb out of the ditch you had stepped in. 

Bucky frowned but not because he was hurt by your response. He stood up and sat down next to you in the entrance of the ambulance, keeping a respectable distance from you. 

‘I’m sorry I put you in that position,’ he said. ‘It’s my job to keep you safe.’ 

You shook your head, the motion so subtle it was almost as if you hadn’t done anything. But because you had been so still before, the movement was noticeable. 

‘Don’t apologise,’ you murmured, trying to sound consoling. You clasped your hands together, elbows tucked in as you clamped your hands between your knees, curving your body into a smaller shape. ‘Does this ever go away?’ 

Bucky hesitated. ‘This type? I hope it will. That guy wasn’t innocent in any form of the word.’ He paused. ‘I knew him.’

So you killed someone who deserved to die? The image of the knife piercing - … of it being used by you. It wasn’t the person, it was your actions. You did it. You didn’t feel the same way you did before. 

‘But I killed him,’ you whispered.

Slowly, giving you time to make him stop or to move away, Bucky put his hand on your knee. The touch was light, with a feather-like fragility something with his stature shouldn’t possess but somehow did. 

‘I-I understand,’ he started. ‘I don’t wanna tell you how to feel but, I’ve done this before.’

Your mind was skeptical. Barnes never intended to commit those murders done by the Winter Soldier. 

‘When I was in the war,’ he said softly, ‘it’s like that.’ 

It was quiet for a while after that while your mind replayed the scenes from before, while your heartbeat steadied one moment and then raced another, keeping an uneven pace. Slowly, your head was starting to feel less and less as though it were filled with brick dust. 

It had sounded like he didn’t want to elaborate and part of you guessed that it was because he didn’t want to haul his own pain onto someone who was going through their own. He didn’t want to draw attention away from you when you were objectively less able to deal with it. 

But you couldn’t deal with having attention right now. 

‘Tell me more?’ you asked weakly. 

Barnes looked at you as though asking for confirmation and then let a tiny self-deprecating smile appear briefly on his features, his eyes hardening with regret. 

‘They made it sound amazing,’ he said softly, eyes on the ground in front of him. ‘Fighting for your country, doing what was right, not only because everyone who wasn’t fighting on our side was a Nazi but because it was just un-American not to.’ His eyebrows creased, expression hardening. ‘But you get out on the front line and suddenly not every opposition is a Nazi who’s out to tear your heart from your chest. We were all kids fighting a war that wasn’t ours.’ He clenched his jaw and then released the tension. ‘I killed guys by my own accord who didn’t deserve one bullet.’

You wiped the dried tears from under your eyes and your cheeks, drawing your sleeve over your fingers, lip trembling. 

‘I’m not trained,’ you whispered brokenly. And not in the sense of using weaponry but in the way that taught you how to stay in the mindset of the job. You were literally mentally unequipped to handle this. ‘What - what do I do next?’ 

Barnes looked at you apologetically. ‘I don’t know,’ he admitted. ‘But I have a lot of good days lately. It’s the worst answer, but give it time.’

You nodded numbly and sniffed, clearing your throat and looking around you. You were one of the few civilians left here, everyone else having been escorted back to their homes or hospitals or wherever they wanted to go. 

‘Where are you going back to?’ Barnes asked. ‘You gonna be alone?’

You didn’t want to go anywhere that had people who didn’t know what you were going through. So going home alone seemed like the only viable option.

‘I’ll be fine.’

You didn’t know how to deal with this. But you told yourself that you just had to figure it out because what choice did you have?

Barnes looked a little doubtful, uneasy and unenthusiastic to let you go by yourself. 

‘I don’t want you to be alone,’ he said. ‘If you wanna talk to me or if you just don’t wanna be by yourself …’

You looked at him, studying his sincere blue-grey eyes. This man was worried about you. You and your modest, self-deprecating self. You felt so emotionally drained that you couldn’t fight it. You were willing to admit that maybe, just this once, you deserved someone’s attention, someone’s help. 

So you nodded. ‘I don’t want to be alone right now.’ 

A Cornucopia of Conundrums

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8. Part 9. Part 10. Part 11. Part 12. Part 13. Part 14. Part 15. Part 16.

Summary: “So what you’re saying is; you had a one-night stand with some yakuza lordling and now you’re pregnant with his baby?” SasuSaku. AU.


Hate has caused a lot of problems, but has not solved one yet. ~ Maya Angelou


Yamanaka Ino was a small woman with a formidable personality. Her eyes were as sharp as a serrated knife as she gave him an angry once over. Sasuke knew it was pure, unadulterated spunk that made her take a step closer and glare him in the eyes with a hawkish severity. He was almost amused.

“Don’t laugh at me,” she told him darkly.

“I’m not,” he assured her.

“I can see it in your eyes. You’re laughing at me.”

Maybe he had been. But that wasn’t why he was here. Her undignified appraisal aside, he was there to lay the foundation of a bridge – one he hoped Sakura would help him build. He didn’t know what the endgame was, but he desperately wanted to start the beginning. He stood at the threshold of her home; he could tell she would never willingly let him in again. He didn’t want to force her. In fact, he wanted her to be on his side, but that path was so twisted and turned that he didn’t know how to take the first step.

“Why are you here?” she asked.

Where’s Sakura, he heard in those words.

And that was all he needed to hear.


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Ah, thank you! Here, I’ll give ya a lil diagram.

I got these stiff insulation foam boards from Home Depot. They’re about $5 a pop.

I then drew up my design and cut out the pieces. The foam wasn’t as long as I wanted my sword, so I cut parts out of them and fit them together like puzzle pieces. 

I used a serrated knife- otherwise known as a bread knife- which funny enough ended up being a big reference for my sword, since Pyramid Head’s weapon is called the Great Knife.

Next I glued it all together. I used hot glue however that didn’t work well for the sanding process so I suggest using another glue.

After I got it to the shape I wanted using different grades of sanding paper (finest grade last to smooth it all out) I painted the bugger. I used all acrylic paint (black, grey, brown, white, copper, and gold) I covered it messily with a brush and sponge and got the final result.

I’m still in the process of adding wood finish to it to seal it all in, but it should be done soon. I hope this helps for anyone interested in making any kind of cosplay sword :3 


Zombie Brain Cake

Yields one cake

The things you’ll need

Red Velvet Cake
  • 4 ounces butter, unsalted
  • 2 cups granulated sugar
  • 3 eggs
  • 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
  • 2 cups all purpose flour
  • ¼ cup Cocoa powder
  • ½ teaspoon baking soda
  • ½ teaspoon salt
  • 1 cups sour cream
  • ½ cup whole milk
  • 1 teaspoon red gel color
  • Pan spray
  • 1 tub buttercream frosting
Marshmallow Fondant
  • 10 oz. mini marshmallows
  • 3 tablespoons water
  • 6 cups powdered sugar
  • ¼ cup shortening, for greasing your hands
Raspberry Blood
  • 1 ¼ cup seedless raspberry jam
  • 2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
  • ¼ cup Water
  • 1 tsp. Red gel coloring
  • Hand mixer
  • Rubber spatula
  • 1½-quart ovenproof glass bowl (Pyrex)
  • Large mixing bowl
  • Medium mixing bowl
  • Small mixing bowl
  • Small hand strainer
  • Small pot
  • Small whisk
  • Small pastry brush
  • Long serrated cake knife
  • Sheet tray
  • Cake stand
  • Paring knife
  • Small offset spatula

Let’s get started!

Red Velvet Cake:
  1. Preheat oven to 300ºF. Grease a 1½-quart ovenproof glass bowl.
  2. In a medium bowl, whisk together flour, cocoa powder, baking soda, and salt.
  3. In a large bowl, with an electric mixer, beat butter until creamy. Add sugar and beat until light and fluffy, 3 to 5 minutes.
  4. In a small bowl, whisk together eggs and vanilla. In another small bowl, whisk together sour cream and milk. Pour egg mixture into butter-sugar mixture and beat on medium speed for 2 minutes.
  5. On a low speed, alternate adding flour mixture and sour cream mixture to butter-egg mixture, beginning and ending with flour and adding the food coloring with the first addition of liquid.
  6. Pour the batter into the greased glass bowl until it is two-thirds full. You will have a little leftover batter.
  7. Slow-bake until a cake tester inserted in the center comes out clean, about 1 hour and 30 minutes.
  8. Let the cake cool and then remove it from the bowl. Level the top with a large knife and place the cake, flat side down, on a cake plate.
  9. Use an offset spatula to frost the cake with a very thin layer of cream cheese frosting.
Raspberry Blood:
  1. 1. In a small sauce pan, whisk all the ingredients except the gel color and bring to a boil over medium heat.
  2. Whisk in the gel color until well combined and cool to use.
Marshmallow Fondant:
  1. Pour marshmallows into a microwave-safe bowl and then stir in water to evenly coat the marshmallows.
  2. Microwave for 30 seconds and then stir. Repeat this process two more times, or until the mixture is smooth.
  3. Sift 3 cups of powdered sugar into a large bowl and make a hole in the center. Pour the melted marshmallow mixture onto the powdered sugar. Sift the rest of the powdered sugar on top of the marshmallows.
  4. Oil your hands to prevent the marshmallows from sticking to you. Knead in the sugar until you have the consistency of soft taffy and the fondant no longer sticks to your hands.

Time to decorate!

  1. Roll out the fondant into ½-inch thick ropes and arrange them on the cake to look like a brain.
  2. Use a paintbrush to brush the raspberry blood over the fondant.
  3. TaDa! This brain cake will make the perfect creepy treat for your Halloween get-together!
    Not Alone

    Reader X Yoongi (Smut, Apocalypse)

    Originally posted by taeguk

    Summary: Sure the zombies scared me, but they were the constant to the newly created world. Being alone though…that was something that scared me more. So what happens when I’m not alone anymore? And what happens if i start finding feelings for that person? Will we make it? Or will this new world infect me like the loneliness?

    **A/N: The photos used in this story are not mine; credit to owners

    Warning: This part includes near rape and may cause triggers. To skip over the scene, please scroll down to the large, bold words. There is also blood and cutting.**

    ~Part 6~

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    Neil Josten is Fine.

    Neil placed the key fob over the sensor. There was a beep and a little flash of light. Neil turned the lock and opened the door and quickly shut it behind him in time for King to run into his legs in his attempt to escape. The evening sun streaming through the living room windows glinted off Sir’s eyes from his perch on the entryway table. Neil set his keys in the decorative bowl Renee gifted them as a house warming present and gave Sir a scratch behind the ears before continuing into the apartment. A little thump and a soft meow signaled the cats following. With little thought, Neil’s duffle bag slid from his shoulder to land in front of the laundry closet on his way through the short hallway leading to the living room. He veered left to enter the open kitchen. 

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