and so help me if it takes jumping off the balcony of a burning building

anonymous asked:

Hi Cap, what do you think about writing something where Lena's hurt but Kara can't get to her or can't help and has conflict about that? Please?

She nearly paces a whole into her apartment floor with worry, and when the pacing isn’t enough, she takes off into the night sky.

Because what if she hadn’t been on the phone with Lena, the night she plummeted off of her balcony?

She shudders with her what ifs, and they keep her up at night.

But when the Daxamites take Lena captive – when she’s held against her will and she’s going to be forced to marry… no. No, Kara won’t think about that – she nearly loses it all.

Because she couldn’t help, and she couldn’t stop it. 

She swears to herself that it won’t happen again. That she won’t let it happen again.

But Alex keeps trying to remind her that she’s only one person, that – fast as she is – she can’t be everywhere at once.

And of course – though she is loathe to admit it – Alex is right. 

So of course, it happens again.

It happens again when she’s out dealing with Cadmus, with Jeremiah, and, quite frankly, with her sister.

Because Cadmus knows that there are four ways to get to her: target innocent people; target her sister; target her friends, her chosen family; target Lena Luthor.

And that day, Cadmus does all four.

She takes a bullet for James and thanks Rao that Maggie takes such good care of Alex in the field. She and J’onn make a spectacular team, and it turns out that he can hold the weight of crumbling buildings just as effectively as her cousin can. 

It’s Lena that she didn’t expect them to attack.

Because Lilian is awful, and Lilian is complicated.

But Lena comes away with a punctured lung and a broken femur, and Lena won’t scream in pain, but Kara hears enough screams in her head to more than make up for it.

It’s not her that gets Lena safely to the DEO. It’s Winn and it’s Alex and it’s James, and while she will never stop thanking them, she will never forgive herself.

Because she didn’t prevent this. She didn’t save her.

Well, technically, she didn’t have to – because DEO medics and surgeons did a spectacular job.

But she refuses treatment while pacing outside of the med bay, regardless.

Refuses treatment, that is, until Maggie – a deep gash on her own forehead – refuses treatment until Kara herself rests.

Alex looks like she’s never been more in love, and J’onn looks like he’s never been prouder of her newest daughter.

Kara relents. 

Maggie gets stitched up.

Kara helps Alex eat.

Alex helps Kara eat.

James and Winn keep her updated on every single thing happening in the med bay.

J’onn keeps watch over them all, and Alex – without letting him know it – keeps watch over him.

And Kara?

Kara waits in Alex’s arms, grateful for the Kryptonian anti-anxiety pills Alex came up with when she first started at the DEO.

Kara waits, trying desperately not to panic, not to lash out, not to burn her powers out just releasing all her fury.

At Cadmus, at her parents, at Jeremiah, at herself.

At herself, because Lena was hurt, and she wasn’t there.

Lena went into emergency surgery, and she wasn’t there.

“You’re here now,” Winn reminds her softly, and his words help a little, but the box full of energy bars he brings her helps even more.

“She’s gonna be just fine,” James reminds her gently, and his words help a little, but the weight of his calloused, soft hand on her thigh helps even more.

“She’s out of surgery,” Vasquez pokes her head in to announce, and Barry Allen himself couldn’t get there as fast as she does.

She cries when she sees her – so many tubes – but silently, silently, because she’s not quite awake yet, not quite aware yet.

Kara doesn’t notice when Lena wakes up; doesn’t see because her head is bowed on the bed next to the limp, IV-ed hand she’s holding.

“My hero.”

Lena’s voice – low and scratchy and broken from the surgery, from the injury, from a lack of water in the throat – makes Kara jump and dry her eyes and concentrate very hard on not breaking down again.

“Your… I didn’t save you, Lena, I didn’t even fly you back here, that was Alex and James and – “

“Kara,” Lena interrupts weakly, wincing slightly when she tries to sit up, squeezing Kara’s hand in both pain and a need for closeness.

“Kara,” she starts again, “you’re not my hero because you save my life. It’s not your job to do that. Supergirl’s, okay. But Supergirl was saving an entire building. And that’s why you work with a team. A wonderful team. It’s not all on you, Kara Danvers. You’re not my hero because you’re bulletproof.”

She stops and flinches and starts reaching for water. Kara practically trips over herself to bring it to Lena’s lips, which curl up into a slow smile.

“Thank you. Do you want to know why you’re my hero, Kara Danvers?”

Kara nods, throat too tight, too on fire, to speak.

“Because you’re here. You’re here for me, and I knew you would be. You always are.”

Kara nods through tears and swallows several times before she can speak.

“And I’m always gonna be, Lena. Always.”


synopsis: mingyu is a soft incredibly hot boyfriend who loves long walks on the beach and the reader (°◡°♡)

genre: fluff

word count: 1,911

“We should probably get up sometime soon,” You suggested into the soft skin of Mingyu’s side, despite being so comfortable you contemplated staying in that position forever. Mingyu simply hummed in response, as he was too focused flipping channels on the hotel television and mindlessly rubbing circles into your back. You both had slept well into the afternoon due to the previous night’s drive from Seoul to Gyeongpo Beach on the east coast. It was a vacation months in the making, as you waited for your boyfriend’s summer schedules to die down and your work schedule to comply, as well. The view from your balcony alone was breathtaking, but you wanted to run outside and experience the real thing. You sat up and swiped the remote away from Mingyu.

“Fine, fine,” he caved, a smirk playing on his face. “Is it wrong to want to lie here with my lovely girlfriend all day?”

You couldn’t help but blush. “Your lovely girlfriend wants her toes in the sand as soon as possible!”

He rolled his eyes but laughed anyway. “Let me get a shower, babe,” he groaned, jumping up from the mattress and heading toward the bathroom. “Don’t miss my shirtless self while I’m gone!”

You fell over laughing as you watched him flex both to you and himself in a nearby mirror. “I’ll try not to.”

Keep reading

Silver Lining (PART 2)

I intended this to be only two parts, but you know what? Fuck it. We’re going for three parts here and the last one will be smut and the big revelation. *wicked laughter* 


It had been about two weeks since he last spoke to you. He tried to call you, but you wouldn’t answer. He tried to visit you, but as soon as you saw him, you closed the window and pulled the curtain closed. He was at a loss. He wanted to see you, he needed to know you were alright. Did you still want him? Had he lost his beacon of hope, his chance of happiness, because he was too much for you? He would never blame you, but it was eating at him, exhausting him and occupying his mind every waking minute.

Keep reading

The Joker x Dead Reader (part 2)

You were gone in an instant and he never thought he would be so lost without you. Too bad the dead can never come back…

A lot of you guys asked for a Part 2 and it’s finally here. I hope you like it :)

Read Part 1 here

The Joker drove all night like a maniac, taking all the back roads he knew and avoiding to be seen at all costs. By morning, he is closer to the place, but still has to travel all day because it started down pouring like crazy; it slows him down and he hates it. He feels exhausted, drained and enraged at the thought this might not work, but what other choice does he have? He wants you back so badly it hurts. He rubs his eyes, trying to keep himself awake, he can’t afford to stop and sleep. He accelerates and cracks his neck in anticipation: he is now close to the spot. He can almost hear you besides him:

“Slow down, J, you’re gonna get us killed!” and then your giggle: “I’m joking, baby, step on it! Wooo-hoooo!” While he sped through the night, you always leaned your head on his shoulder, kissing it first. He missed your touch and the way you kept your hand on his the whole time.


He slams the breaks: finally here, no more roads. He takes a deep breath and gets out of the car. It’s so dark in the middle of the woods, but he knows the place. All he needs is the moonlight. He adjusts his purple coat and starts walking down the path to his left, feeling the gun in his pocket. He knows it’s not going to help him.

It must be almost midnight when at last, The Joker is where he wants to be. For the first time in his life he is not prepared for the encounter, but he has no choice. On top of everything, it’s starting to rain like crazy again. Exactly what was missing… It actually feels kind of reinvigorating though; it wakes him up a bit more. He takes a few deep breaths before he speaks:

“I know you’re here, show yourself!”

The lighting brightens everything for a few seconds and he turns his eyes towards the skies above, waiting for her.

“I know you can hear me!…Show yourself, Enchantress!”

She appears behind him, slowly digging her claws in his purple coat and scratching her way down, burning fabric and flesh alike. It hurts badly, but he bites the inside of his cheek and doesn’t move or wince.

“What are you doing here, mortal?” she hisses in his ear, the scorching heat of her body making him close his eyes really tight for a few seconds. “ Leavveeee…now!!!”

It seems like there are so many beings talking in the same time, but it’s only her, now in front of him, irradiating that insufferable, unwelcoming warmth. Her unworldly gaze makes his skin crawl.

“I’m not leaving. I’m here to ask for a favor.”

“A…favor?” she laughs and more ashes burn around her. “You have quite the nerve, human. Last warning: leeeeeave.”

“You owe me!” He sternly raises his voice, clenching his fists. He’s soaked, exhausted, out of options and at this point doesn’t really care for much anymore. “I helped you… we helped you,” he corrects himself, glaring at the sorceress. “And I can help you again. You know Gotham is mine. I can give you anything you want.”

She snarls, unhappy with his little speech.

“How dare you? I do not owe anything to anybody.” She moves closer and closer, until she’s right in front of him, blazing everything around. Her darkness is so strong that it takes everything he’s got not to back out. He can’t look weak, not in front of her.

“You do owe ME!” J defies her, staring in her glowing orbs. “I just want you to bring her back…can you?”

“Of course I can. And no… I am not bound to… do anything for… anybody.” She talks slowly, sniffing him, enjoying seeing him antagonized. “But I do need …” the Enchantress pauses, grinning her black, smoky teeth at him, smelling her own ashes on his pale skin. If it wasn’t for the rain to lessen her fire, he would probably be burning like a torch right now.

“…more souls. Always.” She lets out a weird chuckle, bringing her face only an inch apart from his.

Done! I can get you as many as you want,” he agrees without hesitation, feeling a glimmer of hope for the first time in months.

“Including…yours?” she breathes on his mouth, waiting for the answer.


“Do…do you even know what that means?” Her body twitches in anticipation.

“I don’t care, just bring her back.”

“Ahhhhh, human feelings, I’ll never understand. Why do you want her back? Is it because she always forgives you? Because she never thinks it’s your fault no matter what you do?”

Her screechy voice is starting to hurt his ears. His whole body is in pain, straining to maintain control. His bright green hair is now blackened from the ashes.

“What would you know about us, hmm?” he mutters through his clenched teeth, fully aware she could kill him on the spot and that would be the end of it. “Just bring her back and I will get you what you want!”

“You have some fight in you…I like that…”

She suddenly disappears and he just sits there, looking around and not seeing her.

The Joker lets out a loud cry when her arms hug him from behind, burning through his purple coat, steam coming out of their embrace.

You’ll find her waiting for you at your…place.” Her grip intensifies. “I don’t know if she’ll remember you or her life before she died, I can’t control that.”

He gasps in pain, not being able to restrain the agonizing sensation anymore.

“Just do it, I want her back…” he groans, feeling he’s going to lose consciousness soon.

“Have fun, mortal!” These are the last words he hears before he collapses.


He wakes up on the muddy soil, cold and confused. It feels like a truck just hit him. He tries to get up and can’t so he just lays there for a few more moments, watching the grey, morning sky. His body is covered in ashes, slit and sweat. Is she really going to bring you back? he thinks, and that gives him enough strength to finally lift himself up. The purple coat is a mess and he takes it off, tossing it on the ground. J stumbles and almost falls a few times before reaching his car. He wipes his face repeatedly, trying to clean himself up a bit, then takes out his cell from the glove compartment. Frost’s name shows up first as emergency contact. He touches the screen and waits, trying to relax in the driver’s sit. Not even the second ring and:

“Yes, boss.”

“Frosty, I need you to keep everyone away from the penthouse, got it? Total lockdown, nobody goes in, nobody gets out, do I make myself clear?”

“Of course, sir.”

J almost hangs up.

“Boss…are you OK?  You don’t sound…”

“I’m fine,” he grumbles, finishing the conversation and throwing the phone in the back. He readjusts himself in the seat, anxious, not really feeling the pain from the burns anymore and starts driving. The only stop he allows himself on the way back is at a hideout in a secluded area so he can clean himself up and change clothes.


The Joker storms inside the building, running for the elevator. Frost sees him and tries to follow, thinking he needs to report what happened in the last 4 days.

“Sir, you’re back! I didn’t let anyone up there, like you ordered. And…”

“Back out, Frost!!!!!!!!!!” he yells, panting like he run the marathon, pushing the button for the penthouse. The doors close right in the front of a very puzzled henchman.


J steps inside, cautious, trying to contain his nervousness. His breathing stops when he sees you by the balcony and he gasps, shocked. You are wearing the dress he buried you with and don’t seem to notice he’s there. You keep looking around, absent minded.  You see him and there is no reaction on your side. You take a few steps towards the window, ignoring him.

“Y/N…” he drops his car keys and watches you for a few more seconds, taking you in. His heavy steps make you turn towards him right before he hugs you.

“You’re here… you’re real…” he keeps on whispering but you don’t understand what he’s saying nor feel any desire to do anything. The Joker keeps on caressing your hair, still holding you tight. After a few minutes, he pulls back a little bit so he can see you better. He cups you face, kissing your lips repeatedly. You don’t kiss or hug him back; your eyes keep on wandering around, not being able to focus on anything in particular.

“Hey, hey…look at me Princess,” J asks, kissing you again, firmly holding your head, trying to get your attention. “Y/N, look at me.“ Your eyes lock for a few moments.

“Do you know who I am… hmmm?”

The blank, emotionless stare in your eyes answers him, even if you don’t make a sound.

He sighs, hugging you again.

“It’s OK, I don’t care…” he mutters, but the ache in his chest proves him wrong. He tries to ignore it, focusing on the fact that he has you back.


When the night comes, he helps you change into your favorite little nightgown he loves so much, his eyes widening when he notices the scars from all the bullet wounds that killed you.

“My pretty girl,” he sadly smiles, pulling you close to him in bed.  “Would you talk to me? I miss your voice…Say you love me, Y/N,” he kisses your forehead, hoping you’ll remember something. No reaction.

“Hmmmmmm…”, he growls, unhappy, taking your hand and placing it on his Jester tattoo. You slowly move it up to his bright green hair and start playing with it. He turns towards you, glad he got your attention.

“You like my hair?…” his eyes study your face for any trace of emotion. There’s none. “You always did…” He feels so drained. He didn’t really rest in so many months, he couldn’t without you in bed. He falls asleep watching you, holding tight to your waist.


He slept for 36 hours straight. He would have probably slept for longer if it wasn’t for Frost waking him up. You’re not there when he opens his eyes and he jumps, panicked.

“Where is she? Where is…?”

“In the living room, sir…” Frost replies, perplexed, seeing the Joker exhaling in relief.

“So she’s really here, you see her too?”

“Yes…” Frost hesitantly answers with a certain tone in his voice. “Sir…how is it possible that Y/N is in the living room?…”

“Why shouldn’t she be there?” J growls, getting out of bed.

“Boss, she’s…dead…”

“Was…” he grins his silver teeth, not very amused.

“Sir, what have you done?…” Frost knows this question might cost him dearly, but surprisingly, J tells him:

“What I had to. Are you done?” his voice changes, irritated.

“I’m sorry, but…Y/N didn’t recognize me, she seems…different.”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk…” the Joker cracks his fingers and Jonny knows he went too far.

“Are you being disrespectful to my girl?” J tils his head to the left side, annoyed, licking his lower lip.

“No…not at all, sir! I apologize,” Frost mumbles, flustered.

“Careful !” J threatens with his finger, ”If you weren’t so useful, Jonny-boy, you would be dead right now. Watch it!”

“Yes ,sir.”


“What about our business…”

Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!” the Joker’s insane laugh resonates in the penthouse. “Do you have a death wish today? I told you to leave, and take care of everything!!!!”

Without opening his mouth again, Frost snicks by J and heads towards the elevator. The last thing he sees is his boss lifting you up in his arms, trying to make you pay attention to him.

You’ve been like this for a month: you don’t talk, you don’t understand what is being said to you; you seem absent from your own life, you just…exist.

J left you alone for the first time and you spent your whole day sitting in the same spot on the loveseat. He’s finally back and he turns on the light in the living room to let you know someone is with you now.

“Goodness, doll, did you move at all?!” he sighs, exasperated. “Com’ere, I didn’t have a good day.” You don’t move, you just blankly stare at the ceiling.

“Really?” he grunts, coming to get you. He grabs your hand and you follow him until he stops to kiss you.

“Can you say something…anything?” he pleads, kissing your lips.

“Hmmm? Can you say my name…please?” his voice sounds really low, he’s not used to this word. “Princess, look at me, God dammit!!! What the hell do you keep on staring at??!!” He’s losing his patience and the fact that he almost got killed today doesn’t help.

He kisses you one more time before he slowly lets you go with a suspicious twinkle in his blue eyes.

“You’re not her, are you?…”

He feels the rage building inside of him when you don’t react at all.

The Joker gives you a strong push and you back out a few steps, almost falling. You regain your equilibrium and stop moving.

“Hey, what did you do with my girl? Are you deaf? Why won’t you answer?” he yells, stomping towards you and pushes you so hard that you lose your balance and fall, violently hitting your right side of your body on the marble coffee table. The impact is so strong that it knocks the breath out of you for a few seconds. You pick yourself up, holding your painful spot with both hands, tears starting to form in your eyes, but you still don’t make a sound.

“Finally, a reaction!” he waves his hands around, irritated.

For some reason you run towards the bathroom and lock yourself in. His mouth opens in amazement.

“That’s a first,” he talks to himself, starting to pound at the door.

“Open up, whoever you are, don’t piss me off !”  He charges at the door again and again, until he breaks it.

At this point he is mad as hell and wants to hurt you, convinced you are not Y/N. You are sitting down in the bathtub, your cheeks resting on your knees and tears streaming down, but there is this oblivious expression on your face he cannot stand. He forcefully pulls you out of your so called hiding place and slams you on the floor.

LOOK AT ME!!!!!!” the Joker shouts so loud your eyes finally search for the source of the commotion. Pinned to the floor, you grunt under his weight, not understanding what he wants.

“Did I get your attention?” he slaps you, holding his knee on your chest. You don’t struggle or try to escape. “Give me back my girl, do you hear me?!” He slaps you again and it’s harder than last time. Your ears start ringing and there’s a small blood stream coming out from the corner of your mouth. His hand is mid air, trying to hit you one more time, when your lips move and you stutter:

“S-stop…please…s-stop…” you whisper, before looking away again, like you usually do.

He slowly gets up, stunned. That was your voice for sure.

“Jesus, Y/N, are you in there?” he whimpers, pulling his hair, frustrated. His eyes narrow, analyzing the situation, not really knowing what to do.

He helps you up, wrapping his arms around you, visibly distressed.

“Are you…are you really in there?…” No reaction, no answer from you.

J gets an idea. He places you on the edge of the bathtub and turns on the water. He helps you in and then he gets inside with the clothes on too. The warm water feels good on your body and you don’t show any kind of objection when he pulls you in his lap and places your hands around his neck. He feels your muscles being tense at his touch and he starts feeling guilty, a pretty unfamiliar emotion to him.

His arms squeeze you really tight until his chin rests on your shoulder, close to your ear and he starts rambling about a thousand things, everything that happened in the last months when you weren’t with him. He goes on and on in a low, husky voice, knowing how much you loved to hear it before. He finally senses your body relaxing and he kisses you neck, continuing to talk with a small smile that you can’t see. After a while, he starts purring and his heart stops when you shudder and your skin gets goosebumps all over. In the past, that was always your reaction when he purred.

“It is you…” he sighs, relieved. He’s holding you even tighter, caressing your wet hair. You let out a small moan, letting him know your side hurts when he does that.

“I’m so sorry, Princess, I didn’t mean to do that…” he apologizes, looking in your eyes and this time you actually look back at him also, without him trying to get your attention. He wipes your bloody lip with his thumb, realizing it’s going to look pretty bad in the morning.

“I didn’t mean it…I’m so sorry I hurt you…” His blue eyes look so sad, so defeated.

The Joker wants to start talking again when the movement of your arms pulling his head towards your lips leaves him speechless. You kiss him softly, then bury your face in his neck and close your eyes. He is afraid to even breathe, hoping he didn’t just hallucinate. It’s the first time you showed any affection towards him since he got you back.


The next night he takes you with him to one of your clubs, he has a business meeting with possible new partners. As always in the past, you sit on his knees, tracing his tattoos from under his unbuttoned shirt and playing with his gold necklaces. You won’t know, but it makes him so happy seeing you do all this, at least you seem more alert.

The new guys talk about how to break into the new Gotham bank and the Joker is brushing his fingers on your exposed skin from the backless red dress you’re wearing. Out of the blue, one of the men brings up the obvious, thinking it’s funny:

“Say, Mister J, she didn’t behave, ha?” Kane winks, referring to the bruises on your face and busted lip. “Sometimes you just have to let them know who the boss is, right?”

The Joker doesn’t find it funny, far from it. You don’t care because you don’t understand what’s going on.

“What did you just say?” he hisses and the expression on his face makes the smile freeze on the men’s face.

“Uhhh, I didn’t mean it like that,” Kane tries to correct himself but it’s too late, of course.

“You didn’t mean it like that?! What did you mean like then, hmmmm?” J clenches his jaw, panting, with murder in his crazed blue eyes. The guy looks left and right for help from his partners but they don’t say anything. He’s on his own.

“Do you think you can talk about my Queen like that? Or about ME?”

“Mister J, he’s new, he doesn’t…” one of them starts.

“Jax, did I ask you anything?” the Joker scoffs, annoyed.

Kane is reaching for his gun on the table, not trying anything brave, but just wanting to see if he’s fast enough to make an escape.

The bullet pierces his skull, blood splattering all over the table and he falls on the golden floor with a laud thud. The others guys gulp, afraid to make another move.

J watched you amazed as you grabbed his gun from his holster so fast it happened in an instant. You got up, positioned in front of him and pulled the trigger.

He starts laughing, finally laughing with all his heart.

“Baby doll, you thought I was in danger?” He pulls you back in his lap, taking your gun away. He feels a warm breeze washing all over him. Even if you are the way you are, your instinct is still to protect him. You placed yourself in front of him, just like that time when…

You are definitely Y/N, definitely the real one in his arms.

“Gentlemen, this meeting is over, out!” he commands, not breaking eye contact with you. He’s surprised to see you smile and still looking at him.

The men leave quietly, happy they are not the ones lying on the floor.

J whistles, then yells:

“Frosty! Tell the boys to clean this mess up! I’m taking Y/N to the VIP lounge.”

Frost nods in agreement and goes to inform the others on what needs to be done.

The Joker carries you in his arms upstairs to the VIP room. He purrs all the way up, enjoying seeing your skin getting goosebumps. It turns him on ever more. Once behind the silver beads, he places you on the velvet couch and takes your dress off, then your high hills and your lacy bikinis. You watch him undress and smile again when he crawls on top of you.

“Am I hurting you, Princess?” he asks, stopping his movement when he notices you look kind of uncomfortable.

“Hey, look at me.” This time you listen and look at him right away.

“Am I hurting you?” he gently kisses your jaw line, waiting for an answer that he knows won’t come.

The confused gaze you give him makes him realize something: it’s not maybe that he’s hurting you, but you don’t really understand what’s happening to you.

“I’m sorry, baby doll, but I can’t stop, I’ve missed you too much,” he exhales, starting to kiss you roughly and move on top of you again. You dig your nails in his back and he can’t ignore the small cry slipping your lips.

“What? What is it?”

You slowly take his hand away from your bruise on the right side of your body and move it higher.

“Oh, dammit, I forgot about you bruise, is this what was hurting you? I’m sorry, baby doll; you know I’m a dumbass.”

You actually chuckle for the first time and he’s delighted.

“You remember what dumbass means?” J smiles, biting your lower lip.

You moan in response and he begins to thrusts faster. It feels so good to have you again; it just drives him insane, but in a good way.

All of the sudden, you tighten your legs around his waist even more and sigh:


The Joker’s heart is about to explode with ecstasy when he hears his name coming from your mouth. If he wasn’t sure he had a heart before, now he’s certain it’s right where is supposed to be.


People are disappearing; it is all over the news. Nobody knows what was going on, it seems like an ever-growing epidemic.

There are so many rumors going around Gotham’s underworld about you. The word was there you died many months ago and now you were starting to be seen with the Joker again. A hoax? A prank? Knowing you two, probably you planned the whole thing together because you were bored. Who’d be demented enough to play around like this if not The Joker and his Queen?

The craziest rumor out there is that the Joker has no shadow. Completely bunkers. But then again, who could get close enough to him to see and live to tell?

Also read - MASTERLIST :

Week Two

So here’s the 2nd Chapter in my Daddy!Maxwell series.  Here’s the link to Chapter One.  It’s more slow-burn fluff ridiculousness in manner of Hallmark Christmas movies, but it’s nice to write something a little fluffy while distracting myself from the drama that’s going to go down in TRR this week.

Thanks to @mariathechoices and @pbophelia for their positive comments that gave me the encouragement to keep this going.  It’s been a crazy day and even though this isn’t what I wanted it to be, I hope I did the story justice.  

WC: 2600

Rating: PG?  There’s terrible flirting, but I don’t think that warrants a Parental Advisory sticker.

Standing behind the desk in her classroom, Marianne looked at the desk calendar and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.  It was Wednesday: one week since she’d started teaching again, one week since she’d met Maxwell Beaumont, and one week since she hadn’t been able to get him, or his smile, out of her mind.  

               She grinned a little, but forced herself to look away from the calendar as she sipped at her morning coffee.  Maxwell Beaumont or no, she couldn’t have asked for a better job. All the students were exceptionally good, even for first graders.  With no lesson plans left behind and no one to tell her what to do, she’d seized the opportunity to do what she’d always wanted: inspire children and help them love coming to school.  She’d stayed up past midnight every night since to prepare lesson plans and ready materials, scrounging what she could from other staff members and what was left in class.

               Over the weekend, she’d finally forced herself to read the rest of the terrible daily journal the teacher had left, even though it made her sick to her stomach.  As she read it, she made mental notes and once Monday came around, she sought out the children that the teacher had criticized.  She made it a point to find something positive about it them and let them know that she recognized it.  It wasn’t hard, so long as you were willing to take the time and look for the goodness inside them.

               Sighing, Marianne walked to the window and looked out at the long line of fancy cars with tinted windows that lined the drive.  Almost all the students at the school were dropped off by chauffeurs or other staff, but she’d noticed that Adriana wasn’t among them.  Maxwell walked her to school every day, pausing at the gate as he crouched down and whispered something to her.  She would nod, they’d kiss cheeks, and he’d wait on the sidewalk until she disappeared inside before he turned and walked away.

               As she watched, she saw them come around the corner, hand in hand. Marianne’s heart suddenly beat a little faster, but she determinedly ignored it as she saw them walk up the steps together and disappear into the building and out of her view.  

               “Stop this,” she muttered to herself, walking back to her desk.

               She’d just sat down when they came in.  Adriana bounded over to the desk, offering her a brown paper bag with a smile.  

               “Good morning!” Marianne said as she took the bag.  “Is this for me?”

               Adriana nodded and walked over to her desk.  Maxwell leaned against the door and smiled, shrugging helplessly. “It was her idea and I wasn’t up to arguing with her first thing in the morning.”

               “Thank you,” she said, opening the bag.  Inside was a pastry the size of her first, covered with cinnamon and honey that made her stomach rumble.

               “It’s a gefstilkos,” he said, “a traditional Cordonian pastry.  They’re delicious, but the problem is that they always go straight to your ass.”

               Marianne looked up at him, certain that she hadn’t just heard what she thought she had.  From her desk, Adriana looked up at him too, head cocked to the side in confusion.

               But when Maxwell turned bright red, she realized that she had heard him correctly.  He stood up from the door, nervously gesturing towards her.  “I didn’t mean your ass, of course.  I mean, yours is great and I’m sure one pastry…” he trailed off and reached up to run a hand over the back of his neck as he muttered something in a language she didn’t understand.  “I meant, the pastry isn’t the healthiest and it just— “he gestured around his hips and stomach.  “You know… stays here… in the… ass area.”

               Marianne bit her lip to keep from smiling.  Was he… was he flirting with her?  

Don’t be stupid, she told herself inwardly, no man that handsome can be that terrible at flirting.

               He cleared his throat.  “Are you ready for today’s field trip?”

               “Yes,” she said, putting the bag and the pastry down on her desk.  “I’ve been in Cordonia for months, but I haven’t been to the parliament building yet.

               “Government Day is a bit of a ridiculous holiday, but we like our traditions here,” he said.  “The King’s going to give a speech, we all clap, the kids try and throw things off the balcony.”

               “I’ll be on the look out,” she said, looking towards the door as the students began to stream into the room.

               They swarmed around Maxwell, who pretended to be as excited as they were about going to see the King’s speech.  Marianne gathered her bag, made sure everyone had their bags and packed lunches, and then helped lead the class to the bus parked outside.  She jumped on first, counting heads as they entered the bus and made sure that they were all buckled in.  Satisfied everyone was as they should be, she sat in the very front, half turned around so she could watch everyone for mischief.  

               Adriana was the last student to climb on, followed by her father and the driver.  Marianne expected Adriana to climb into the empty seat across from her, but to her surprise, the girl sat down next to her instead.  Maxwell’s eyebrows shot up, but he said nothing as he sat down across the aisle from them.

               Children all cheered as the bus took off and the driver grumbled, sticking earplugs in.  Before Marianne could wonder why, Maxwell knelt on the seat and turned around, facing the children.

               “Okay!” he shouted.  “Today’s color is… green!  Who can tell me something that’s green?  No repeating the word or you’re out!”

               He started pointing at the different students, going down every seat as the children shouted out their answers.





               She watched as he made his way around the entire bus until he suddenly looked to her, holding his hand out in invitation.  “Come on, don’t leave us hanging.”

               Startled, she looked at Adriana, who simply shrugged her shoulders.  She looked back up to Maxwell, suddenly aware of the other pairs of eyes on her waiting to see if she would be the first one to be “out.”

               She opened her mouth, and God help her, said the first thing that came to mind.  “Boogers.”

Instantly, all the students burst into hysterical laughter, cheering and snorting into their hands.  Even Adriana snickered softly, covering her mouth with her hands as she looked down at her shoes. Marianne covered her face with her hands as she turned beet red, but Maxwell leaned across the aisle, a wide grin on his face.

“I didn’t know if you had it in you.”

               She uncovered her face, even though she could still feel her cheeks burning. “Hey, I teach first grade.  I know all about boogers.”

               The bus turned a corner and then pulled into a large parking lot, stopping close to an imposing looking building.  As the doors opened, Maxwell hopped off first and she began to call out students, pairing them up with one another.  Satisfied that everyone was with their partner, she hopped off the bus and slipped her bag over her shoulder.  A tour guide was already waiting for them, encouraging the students to walk side by side as they walked into the building.

               “Stay with your partner!” Marianne called out as she followed them inside.          

               Maxwell looked over at her.  “So, you’re mine, huh?”

               As she turned to look at him, his eyes widened and he looked away, shoving his hands into his pockets.  “I mean, for today… you know…” he cleared his throat.  “Let’s go.”

As they followed the tour guide through the grand hall and up the main staircase, Marianne saw Adriana trip on the thick carpet, falling forward before she caught herself.  

               “You okay?” Marianne asked, helping her up.

               Adriana nodded, giving her a thumbs-up.  Marianne returned the gesture, watching as the girl hurried to catch up with her partner.  

               “She does talk you know.”

               She turned to Maxwell, who was watching his daughter.  He glanced nervously towards Marianne, shrugging his shoulders.  “I mean, at home.”

Marianne smiled.  “She’s not my first shy student.”

               Maxwell walked with her as they made their way down the long hallway. “She’s not shy… she has dysarthria. She knows what she wants to say, but she has problems moving her tongue and lips to make the words come out.  She didn’t really talk at all until she was almost three.  She’d point to pictures and things, but she just wouldn’t talk.  I finally took her to see a specialist who did all these tests and explained what was going on.

               “She’ll probably always have some difficulty talking, but she’s getting better.  We do lots of practice at home, exercises and things that are supposed to help strengthen her muscles and get them to do what she wants.  I wish she’d do it more at school too, but it’s hard.  I thought we’d turned a corner last year.  She was doing so great… but once this school year started, she stopped again.”

               Marianne’s stomach twisted as she remembered what the teacher had written in her journal about punishing Adriana for her “refusal” to talk.

               “Lord Beaumont, you should know—“

               The tour guide held up her hands.  “We’re entering the parliament hall now… please be silent.”

               Marianne watched as all the students slowly filed into the parliament hall, walking down the narrow rows in the viewing balcony to take their seats. Marianne sat at the opposite end of the row from the tour guide, giving all the students a stern look to remind them that she was watching their behavior as Maxwell sat next to her.

               A moment later, the herald announced the King and the doors opened. The young King walked down the aisle as everyone stood and clapped politely, stopping at the podium in front. He nodded at all the parliamentarians on the floor and then looked up at the balcony, waving to children who squealed in delight and clapped even louder.

               As they sat again, Marianne was suddenly aware of Maxwell’s subtle cologne and for a moment, she swore she could feel his gaze on her back.  But determinedly, she watched the students and the speech below, almost afraid to look over and see if she was right.

               When they arrived back at the school a few hours later after completing the tour of the building and having a picnic lunch on the lawn outside parliament, it was almost time to go home.  Marianne helped the students collect their things and stood in the doorway, watching as they hurried down the hallway towards the front door.

               “You were going to say something?”

               She looked up at Maxwell curiously.  “I’m sorry?”

               “Earlier, on the trip… before we went in to see the speech.  You seemed like you were about to tell me something.”

               “Oh,” she said softly, looking down at her feet.

Marianne paused.  She wanted to tell him what she’d read, but she suddenly realized that if she did and he would confront the headmistress about it.  And, if that happened, it was possible that headmistress might fire her for “interfering” or some such nonsense. The idea of losing this job was terrifying.  It wasn’t the money, she could always go back to waitressing like she’d done in graduate school.  But the idea of not being there to help Adriana, of not seeing Maxwell each week, of not knowing who was going to come in and what they’d do to that poor girl… that was enough to make her stop.  She’d just have to do what she could with the time she had left, and then, at the end, reveal what she’d learned.

“I don’t even remember,” she said with a smile she hoped looked genuine.  “Thank you for coming today.  I appreciated having extra help.”

               “Thanks for tolerating me.”

               “What do you mean?”

               He shrugged helplessly at her.  “Well, you’ve seen me.  Most teachers aren’t happy to have me around.  I’ve never been great at being an adult.”

               She frowned a little.  “Well, I don’t know about that… but I do know you’re a great dad.”

               To her surprise, his cheekbones turned a little red as he looked down towards his shoes.  “Thanks.”

               He looked up almost immediately, his cocked his head to the side.  “Hey, isn’t there an American holiday soon? The one where you sacrifice a turkey?”

               She nodded.  “Thanksgiving is next week.”

               “Are you flying home?”

               “No,” she said, shaking her head.  “No family to fly home to.”

               His lips parted and he frowned.  “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” she said with a sad smile. “It’s not a big deal.”

               Adriana pulled on her father’s hand impatiently.  “Yes, I know what you want.”

He looked back up at her.  “Goodbye, Miss Crawford.”

“Have a good night, Lord Beaumont.”


               Marianne looked down, shocked.  The voice was so soft she almost thought she’d imagined it. Adriana smiled shyly at her, her cheeks turning a little red.  Her mouth open in surprise, Marianne looked at Maxwell, whose mouth had dropped open as well.  But before he could say anything, Adriana had pulled him towards the door and they disappeared out into the hallway.  

               Marianne turned and walked back to the desk, pulling the pastry he’d brought her that morning out of the bag.  She slowly tore off a piece, sighing as the deliciousness melted in her mouth.  She frowned, looking at the calendar again as she made an X across the day’s date and flipped the page, staring at the end-date for her assignment.  There were four weeks left.  A lot could happen in four weeks.  She could make some real changes… for both Adriana and Maxwell.  Her only worry was, would it be enough?


               In the foyer of their townhouse, Maxwell stared at his daughter as she dropped her backpack right by the front door and danced down the hallway towards the kitchen, her pigtails swinging.  It had been ages since he’d seen her come home happy from school, let alone dance down the hallway.  But it didn’t surprise him, not now that he knew who was causing it.

He bit his lip as he thought of her smile and how she laughed at his jokes instead of laughing at him.  Every part of her, from her smile and laugh to the skill and passion she had for teaching, impressed him.  It had been a long time since he’d met anyone like that… hell… it had been a long time since he’d felt this way.  

               “Stop it,” he muttered to himself as he frowned and walked into the kitchen.  What sort of sick bastard tried to hit on his child’s teacher?  That was just asking for trouble, and he didn’t need to complicate matters for Adriana any more than he already had.

               In the kitchen, Adriana was already in the freezer, getting out a tub of ice cream.  She looked at her father questioningly, who responded by reaching up onto the top shelf for the sprinkles.  Grinning, she put the ice cream on the counter and grabbed two bowls.

               Maxwell leaned against the fridge, raising his eyebrows. “You spoke to her.”

               Adriana nodded.  “Yeth.”


               As she often did when she was thinking hard and trying to force her mouth to make the sounds she wanted, Adriana scrunched her nose and narrowed her eyes.  “Becuth,” she said, “thee lithens.”

Smoke and Mirrors (3/?)

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 -

Being the girlfriend of Captain America had always been a little demanding, but now with the Accords dividing the team, Bucky apparently going AWOL and the threat of another woman eyeing up your man, will the relationship survive?

Or is everything you know about to come crashing down around you?

You’d always wanted to go to London.

Attending the funeral of the love of your boyfriend’s life was not the circumstances you expected to finally visit the city under.

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anonymous asked:

fire flames or excessive heat from that prompt list??

(cw: fire, burns, discussion of phobias)

It’s not the smell that wakes them.  It’s the screaming.

Neil is moving before his eyes open.  For a moment he thinks, Andrew.  Then his higher functioning kicks in as he actually wakes up.

They’re in a hotel room.  Andrew is upright on the other side of the bed, fumbling for the light switch, a dark silhouette against the window. 

The screaming is the fire alarm, because the room is full of smoke.  

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anonymous asked:

Love your blog! Your posts/writing never ceases to amaze me. I was wondering if you could write Itachi imagine where- much to his father's dismay- Itachi continues to visit y/n because he is so infatuated with her? Thank you!

Hey guys, it’s been awhile! Thank you for hanging in there, and I’ll be back as soon as I can.

I’ve been looking at this one for a long time, Anon, hope you’re still hanging in there! Thank you for waiting! I wanted this to have a hopeful ending, so I tried :D


The Uchiha compound sat serenely under the full moon as night marched on. Alleys darkening while the streets lit with moonlight, the stillness of the place went uninterrupted as a lone shinobi wove through the shadows.

He knew he didn’t have to hide himself; the shinobi knew the streets as he grew up on them. Everything was familiar, even in the dark of the night, yet it was the circumstance which made Uchiha Itachi seamlessly blended into the night that prompted such movements. For it was unlike Itachi to blatantly break rules…sure, he was doing top secret missions in the Black Ops that sometimes conflicted with the “rules”, particularly the mission of spying on his own clan for the sake of the village. But all those actions were hidden, under the protection of a higher force.

Tonight, however, Itachi had no such protection other than his own guile.

Perhaps he risked his standing with Fugaku because [Name] offered Itachi meaningful distraction from the turmoil within the Uchiha Clan. She provided an escape for him that even Sasuke couldn’t offer, and it was this exact feeling - the feeling of refuge - that kept drawing Itachi back to her, despite his father’s protests.

“Son, only an Uchiha can keep up with another Uchiha. There are also women from the Hyuga and even Nara Clan who can provide for you well.”

His father’s words pinged around in Itachi’s mind as he continued toward the edge of the compound.

“I want you to stop seeing her, Itachi. This…[Name], is an outsider, and with how the Village and Uchiha are right now, she may get in the way.”

As these remarks surfaced, the young man grimaced.

“I learned that [Name] is not a shinobi. Is that what you want? An unskilled partner who, left unprotected, is more vulnerable to death?”

Shaking his head, Itachi dislodged his father’s voice from his mind as he exited the Uchiha compound. The moon was now an hour past its zenith, and at this the young shinobi knew that he did not have much time. His father had been staying up later lately - due in part to keep an eye on his son, but also with the troubles of the clan besetting him, it was hard to fall asleep. Therefore Itachi had waited longer than he anticipated to leave the house, waiting for his father to sleep as to remain undetected. Because of that decision, it meant cutting some time spent with [Name], a regret Itachi felt burn in his chest.

He positioned his ANBU mask. Then, with a aspiring breath, he launched himself into the deepening shadows of the village beyond the compound. Silently darting from roof to roof, Itachi made haste towards the other end of the village where [Name] resided, hoping that he had not held her up too long and that she was still awake - waiting for him.

Reaching his destination - a small apartment complex in an older part of the village - Itachi searched for the one balcony with the trail of moon flowers cascading from it. On nights when [Name] and Itachi met, she would typically wait for him at the window where she could spot him and vice versa. She had also taken care to make sure her flowers were conspicuous for Itachi to identify which balcony to arrive on, even though he had the floor and location memorized. Tilting his head before jumping to the floor, Itachi scanned the window for any signs of [Name], but saw none.

This side of the building is now in shadow…I need to get closer. Without moonlight, he deduced, it might be harder for both of them to see each other. Alighting on the rail of the balcony, Itachi saw that a thin curtain was drawn over the windows, signaling resignation and sleep.

His disappointment was fleeting, however, as he saw beyond the veil the figure of a sleeping woman gracing a couch. It looked as if she had been waiting there a long time before drifting off into slumber, and at the sight Itachi decided he could not leave. Seeing that only the screen door was drawn, he quietly slid it aside as he stepped into the dim room, illuminated only by the moonlight reflected from outside.

Itachi took a moment to sit down on the floor next to [Name] on the couch. She breathed serenely as she slept, and at this Itachi felt slightly guilty for wanting to wake her, but eventually he began to hum her favorite tune to try and rouse her from her slumber. He increased his volume, and as he did, [Name] began to stir.

He pulled aside his mask as not to frighten [Name], and began to whisper, “[Name]…[Name], wake up, just for a little bit.” The anticipation in his voice held real need: to see her tired doe eyes, hear her hushed voice against the dark, and the touch of her hand against his cheek. These simple gestures are what compelled Itachi to forsake his father’s judgement as they curbed the heaviness in his life, regardless of what Fugaku thought.

“…Itachi…” a weak voice spoke from beneath the covers. Then drearily, [Name]’s eyes flitted open, meeting her lover’s gaze in a hazy, dreamlike state.

“I am here, [Name]. Apologies for making you wait.” Itachi reached out to stroke [Name]’s hair, her bright eyes beginning to come alive as she registered his face. He could tell that she was smiling softly as his hand met her head, his expression becoming more tender and warm. [Name] reached out to his hand and clasped it close to her face, seeming to try and soak up warmth.

“…Mhmmm. Itachi-kun…your hands…”

“Cold, I know,” Itachi said, scooting closer as he leaned his face into hers. “Do you want me to shut the window?”

She shook her head. “No…no, leave it open. I tried to stay awake, Itachi, I promise. But the night…it’s just so peaceful.”

“Shhh.” Itachi kissed her forehead lightly, breathing in her scent. “[Name], I do not have much time. Just stay still.”

[Name] stopped talking, instead moving closer to Itachi and nuzzling into his neck. He lay his head on hers as they exchanged each other’s warmth; in his mind Itachi wondered if Fugaku would change his mind upon meeting [Name].

“…Do you think your father will ever accept me?” As if reading his mind, [Name] mumbled the fateful question.

The young Uchiha sat there for a moment, processing several scenarios of his father, mother, [Name], and himself. It did not take him long to come to a conclusion.

“…I am working on helping my father overcome his close-mindedness, [Name]. I am sure when he meets you, he will be impressed by your charm and wit.”

While no verbal response was given, the physical response was enough for Itachi revel in. [Name] lifted her head out of the sheets and next to his cheek, where she gave a slight, clumsy peck. Pulling back to see his face, Itachi gazed into her still glazed eyes for a moment before leaning in to close the gap between their lips.

“You have been gone in the Old District a lot lately, Itachi.” Mikoto sat next to her son as they fed the koi in their pond out back. “Your father seems concerned.”

Itachi had not yet told his mother about his relationship with [Name], thinking that his father would make her aware of it. It seemed he guessed right.

“Itachi, I understand how you feel - and it’s perfectly natural. However I would ask you to give your father’s advice more consideration.”

Itachi merely sat there, mulling over his thoughts.

“Mother…do you think…he will ever be open to it?”

A phlegmatic pause hung in the air between mother and son, their reflections mingling more spritely in the water below. Itachi looked at his mom in the water as the colors of the fish distorted her pale skin and dark hair. He waited patiently, curious as to how his mother would answer.

“I think you should speak more to your father, my dear.” She placed a comforting hand on Itachi’s back. “Be sure to listen to him throughout. That’s how you get the best answer from him.”

Later that evening, when just Itachi and Fugaku were present, the son breached the precarious subject again with the father.

Much to Itachi’s dismay, the response was as expected.

“She has no rank, according to the Konoha records. And is not a shinobi, but a simple artist and gardener. Don’t you aspire to someone more…more accomplished?”

Itachi remembered his mother’s words, and thought to reply simply: “What do you mean by accomplished, father?”

Fugaku frowned. He sat himself next to Itachi, again gazing at the now golden glow on the fish pond, before inhaling a breath to speak.

“Itachi, even among the Uchiha you are certainly a different breed. Talent like yours is only rivaled by your friend Shisui, and previously by Uchiha Kagami and a few others. You must choose your partner carefully if you are to make a lasting, fulfilling match. You have a strong mind, sharp as a blade, and whoever lives alongside it must be able to keep up with it. Along with the prestige of the clan to uphold, entering the Uchiha clan from the outside is not easy - especially for someone without a shinobi background or clan rank.”

As he listened, Itachi sought to correct his father and argue his outdated ideas. But the warmth of his mother’s voice insisted he keep quiet, having his father finish in full.

“All I am saying, son, is that this girl you so like may not be able to handle the Uchiha. Not just you, but the clan as a whole. Without the experience of clan community, she will likely face not only backlash but also culture shock. Do you want this for her? This suffering?”

“…Suffering?” Itachi was genuinely amused at his father’s choice of words. Confident that he had finished his speech entirely, the young son now presented his mind on the matter.

“Perhaps she may suffer. Perhaps she may have a hard time fitting in, being accepted, and learning the customs of our clan. But she is of a strong will, inherited by being part of the village - like a clan, you can say. If she can survive and thrive in the village, I am confident she can overcome whatever hardships she may face with the Uchiha or me personally. It will make her stronger and sharper…like a blade. Like me.”

Looking into Fugaku’s face, Itachi saw only his usual stoic look. He didn’t expect much from his father expression wise or even a change in opinion, but now that he had said it Itachi was no longer afraid of what his father thought of [Name].

Fugaku sighed, getting up to exit the room. Before closing the door, he stopped, not turning to face Itachi and said,

“While I am still unsure if she is qualified, I look forward to meeting her soon, Itachi.”

And then the room became silent, save for the sanguine sigh of the son.

- Admin Rhia

Originally posted by yugen-ai

Once Upon A Dream - Part 6

Characters - Bucky x Stark!Reader, Steve, Sam, T’Challa, Rhodey

Word Count - 2027

Warnings - CA:CW spoilers, Language, Violence, Angst, Mentions of blood

A/N - THis part and the next part are basically going to be ca:cw, slightly altered and with the reader written in. If that’s not your thing then that’s fine and you can rejoin us for part 8. I’m sorry but the story just simply can’t progress without these parts. The last part will be similar. I would definitely advise against reading this series if you haven’t seen Civil War.

OUAD Masterlist

After sliding down Bucky’s body to your feet, the two of you quietly stepped out of the bathroom to where Steve stood. His back faced you as he picked through the carnage of last night’s fight.

“Copy.” Steve spoke to whoever was in his ear and you couldn’t help but to assume that it was his right hand man, Sam.

As if he felt your presence, Steve slowly turned around. Bucky stiffened next to you when he made eye contact with his old friend, the familiar whirring of his arm made your heart rate pick up. You knew the stories, Steve and Bucky had known each other since they were kids but you weren’t sure what that seventy years apart had done to their relationship. Well, after Bucky’s handy work two years ago, you had a feeling that not even they knew where they stood.

“Oh my God,” Steve exhaled the words as his wide eyes settled on you, “Y/N? You’re alive?”

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Paws Fur Coffee (Coffee Shop AU) [5/6]

Now we’re in the home stretch! Di Streste is my other akumasona, and Indecision belongs to @miraculous-mask (thanks for letting me borrow her, sorry I didn’t do more with the fight orz)

Suggestion: please have this song in the background when you read the last section (you’ll know it when you see it).

[Ao3] [1] [2] [3] [4]

Wednesday morning that week, once he got out of class, Adrien got a text from an unknown number.

  [Hey Adrien! It’s Alya. Marinette hasn’t been home in three days, do you mind checking up on her for me? I’m a little trapped in the newspaper office myself right now.]

He instantly mashed the call option on his screen.

“What do you mean she hasn’t been home in three days?!”

The girl just snorted over the line, realizing his panic. “You didn’t know that art and design students have their final projects due a week before finals? The girl holed herself up in the A&D building to finish everything early for once.”

Well, at least he got the relief she wasn’t actually missing. Even though this was a normal thing for anyone in those majors to the point that the campus installed showers in the bathrooms there, Alya explained, Marinette gets a little too focused sometimes and forgets that she’s a human with basic human needs.

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My hero

words: 1,253
Barry Allen x reader
The Flash

I sat in my car looking at the building, staring, waiting for something to happen. Nothing did. i took a deep breath and stepped out of my car, grabbing my bag and the tray of coffees. I  walk quickly hoping i’m not late, into the cortex of S.T.A.R.labs. I look around and see nobody. I breathe out in annoyance, I must be late. I jump when I hear a loud voice behind me, knocking the coffees into the air as i do. 

I look at the person startled and I’m immediately nervous when i see there are four people staring at me, but i ease up when i see them trying to contain their laughs. The only girl there walks up to me holding her hand out for me to shake. I take it lightly.

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Breaking Curfew

Your eyes kept flitting to your watch. Fuck. The towns curfew was closing in-you had to be back home or else you would get a ticket and they weren’t fucking cheap either. 

It was your first two weeks in the new town that you moved to. You take the next turn and you realised it was the wrong one and now you were: 1) terribly and utterly lost and 2) you were in the bad part of town. 

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“Building Harley” [ Joker - One shot ].

Inspired byImagine: The Joker paying you a visit and asking you to join him in his madness; he turns you into his Harley Quinn.

Written by: A.Wölf.

Notes: Wrote this right after the Suicide Squad trailer came out. So it is based on it and the original Joker + Harley story. 


She’s in her night gown sitting in front of the mirror in her bedroom looking at herself with a nostalgic expression, waiting.

Tonight’s the night. She thought.

The window to her balcony’s slightly open, the wind softly moving the curtains; only the rustle of silk can be heard in the room.

The full moon and the small lamp on her nightstand are the only things lighting it up.

Silence. Deafening silence. Not even the wind can be heard anymore.

She feels a chill running down her spine as she slowly picks up the card on her boudoir’s table with her right hand.

She can feel a presence lurking in the shadows; her heartbeat stutters but she tries to remain calm and always avoiding the mirror before her.

-I was expecting you. It’s true what they say, huh? One gets this …one is visited by the man himself. –She says in a thick New York accent while looking at the joker playing card in her hand.

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Burning Bright (3 /4)

Summary: After selling his soul in exchange for immortality, Jeremy’s been alone for decades. When he hears about a gang of criminals who are like him, he leaps at the chance to join them.

But integrating into the Fake AH Crew is harder than he expects. Faced with tangled relationships, ongoing tensions, and a group chat filled with a ridiculous amount of drama, things only get even more complicated when a fight between Michael and Gavin goes too far and Jeremy finds himself caught in the middle of a feud with far too much history behind it.

Part 1  Part 2  AO3

Gavin’s floating face-down in the swimming pool. From this angle, it almost looks like he’s drowned, but Jeremy knows he’s resting on a paddleboard.

There’s something so tranquil about this place. The isolated island, lined by stretches of thick jungle and empty beaches - the big cabin house that Jack built. The noise and bustle of the city long behind them - just the gentle lap of ocean waves and the trill of cicadas lingering in the warm tropical air.

Gavin’s alone down there. From up on one of the cabin balconies, Jeremy can’t see his face. Just the bare, tan skin of his back against the bright turquoise water of the pool, the sun glinting off his skin and his hair - bottle blond again now - and his sparkly, gold bathing trunks.

His gaze lingers. He remembers what it felt like to kiss warm skin, to let his hand trail over the sharp ridges of Gavin’s spine, and swallows hard.

“Gav loves swimming,” a voice behind him says, and Jeremy jumps a mile before spinning guiltily around. Great, now he feels creepy.

Jack’s standing behind him, smiling softly. He’s holding a frozen orange, and passes half to Jeremy, who accepts it gratefully. It’s stupidly humid out here - summer’s set in and everywhere outdoors is just constantly warm.

“I remember him telling me about all the ‘swimmy bevs’ we’d do in the summer,” Jeremy says, and Jack laughs.

“We will,” he assures him. “Don’t worry, this will pass.”

“Doesn’t feel like it,” Jeremy mutters.

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Trial by Fire #29

Chapter 29: Fire Devil

  • A small, burning cyclone that results when heated gases from a fire rise and cooler air rushes into the resulting areas of low pressure; usually occurs during forest and brush fires but also in free-burning structural fires.

summary: When a series of fires unsettles the city of Magnolia, Detective Lucy Heartfilia unwittingly reignites a war between old rivals. But when she finds herself drawn to one of her suspects, the lines between right and wrong begin to blur.

A/N: ….ahem. So, watching you all scream was basically the best part of my day. snogfairy let it slip there will be a sequel. All three of us will be writing it soon. Hahahaha

Rating: M No NSFW in this chapter

read: part I | part II | part III | part IV | part V | part VI | part VII | part VIII | part IX | part X | part XI | part XII | part XIII | part XIV | part XV | part XVI | part XVII | part XVIII | part XVIIII | part XX | part XXI | part XXII | part XXIII | part XXIIII | part XXV | part XXVI | part XXVII | part XXVIII | on | all parts


It was like a lead weight was buried in his chest, choking all the air from his lungs.  Nausea unrelated to Gray’s frantic driving rolled around in his gut and tugged at his nerves. How could he be so stupid?  

Jackal had known about Lucy.  He had known about her connection to Natsu and he had practically given him a detailed explanation on how he felt about her. If something happened to her…

If she was hurt in any way.

Natsu would never be able to forgive himself.

“Come on, Lucy,” Gray growled into the phone glued to his ear, twisting the wheel of the car through the blaring of the sirens, “Pick up the damn phone!”

Natsu had his ear pressed against the receiver of his terrible phone, grateful he had plugged Lucy’s number into the directory the moment he realize she was going to be sticking around. His hand was tight around his archaic phone, the hard plastic biting into his palm and shaking against his white knuckled grip.

Lucy picked up and his heart almost soared in relief.

“Hello?” Her voice buzzed through the ancient speakers.

Natsu laughed, his voice shaky and trembling at the sound of her okay. Oblivious. But fine.

“Thank god,” Gray’s knuckles were white around his steering wheel, “Tell her to get out of there! Now.”

Natsu nodded, his mouth opening to do just that, when a sudden thought flashed in his head.

“Natsu?” Lucy asked, “What’s the matter?”

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blinkwithyoureyes  asked:

36 for Supercat =)

(Also on ao3 here, because this one is super long and I know I’d probably prefer to read it on there!!)

36. “I wish I could hate you.”

The first time it happens, the fault lies wholly and completely with Cat, and she thinks that she’ll curse herself for it for as long as she lives.

It’s another late night in her office, the lights dimmed to spare her eyes which have been staring at bright computer screens all day. She’s more than a little tipsy, because it’s almost eleven p.m. and she’s missed her son’s bedtime, and the few employees that she’d managed to corral to stay behind a few extra hours had left long ago.

Cat shoots a baleful glance at the desk that sits outside her office, because her assistant had disappeared several hours ago and hasn’t been seen since. Cat knows that there are distinct disadvantages to having your assistant be a superhero, and the only reason Cat hasn’t hired a second assistant is equal parts because of the disaster that had occurred with the last one, and because she doesn’t want to make Kara feel like she’s not good enough at her job.

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