and the years steam down my face

You Are Mine

Request from @thedreamsofafangirl: Could you write an imagine where Draco gets sick but is allergic to the main ingredient in pepper up potion and y/n is a great potion maker and she nursed him back to health?

Sure thing :) thank you so much for your kind words!! it means a lot :D 

*I am so sorry this has been ages! It’s been in my drafts for like two months and I totally already thought i’d posted it 😬 thank you so much though!!*

Originally posted by hogwartsfansite

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Done. - Bucky Barnes

request:  prompt one 25 38 41 buckyyy @aweways

summary: One training session with Bucky turns nasty and soon your ready to hand in your resignation. But does Bucky really want to see you go so soon? 

word count: 2.4k

warnings: angst / fluff / asshole!Bucky / fluffy!bucky /

“I just don’t see the point, Bucky!” Letting out a frustrated growl as the Soldier rolled his eyes again, I tucked my head behind my knees, trying to regain my vision and a healthy heart beat again.

For some reason today, Bucky was not letting me go down without a fight. Maybe it was the fact that I was his first ‘Trainee’ and he felt the need to get it right, or the fact that Steve supervised the training process and if I didn’t get better, he’d be disappointed. No one likes it when the Captain is disappointed, it felt as if you punched a kitten when I caused disappointment to gather in his baby blue eyes.

“Get it, now. I’m not kidding Charlie, now get up and keep going.” Embarrassment at my ass being kicked in our gym filled with all of us Avengers, training for the next deathly task we had to take.

The way he’d been kicking my ass, I was 90% sure my ass had vanished.

I had no ass to be kicked anymore, it had fallen off when he did his last move of literally kicking me in the ass so I’d stumble to the ground. I felt red flames on my cheeks, and the stare’s that were starting made me freeze.

I’d rather be smothered to death with a couch pillow than exerting any more energy in this session. I muttered to Bucky with my face hidden, my head was on my knees in pure shame.

“I can’t…”

“I’m sorry, what was that? I don’t think I heard you correctly!”

“I said, I can’t anymore…” A crack at the end gave my eyes the feeling to leak with salty drops of ‘weakness’. I didn’t want to become more pathetic than I already was, and crying was as pathetic as this moment could get for me.

“We don’t use ‘I can’t’ here. If you want to be an Avenger, then act like one, dammit!”

“I’m trying!” I cried out, finally looking up at the chocolate hair and glaring blue eyes that stared down at me with such intensity. Maybe I wasn’t good enough, maybe it was for the best if I left…

What the hell is wrong with you? Dammit. Okay.. well, maybe it’s best if you throw in the damn towel now. Before you get yourself and the rest of us killed out on missions!”

Bucky’s words stung, but what stung more was that no one raised an objection. They just were in some silent agreement with Bucky.


“If that’s what you think is best, then by all means…” I turned around to see the twin doors open by FRIDAY listening to our conversation. What a cold hearted bitch, that AI was…

The gym was deadly silent now, Sam stopped punching the bag that Steve was effortlessly holding. Tony wasn’t spotting Clint anymore at the weights and so Barton laid there, with his head poking up to watch Bucky and I exchange our heated argument. Breathing in heavily like everyone else was. The gym air felt thick now, to me. It was thick with pity.

I was stumbling to my feet now, holding onto my knees as I got up on my feet. I felt like the wind just got knocked out of my chest, just from these small movements. It was painful enough to have the attention of everyone in the room, but to be this feeble and vulnerable…this felt like a whole new level of humiliation that I’ve unlocked in a very cruel video game.

I prayed for someone to at least look at me and see I needed some help! No one met my eyes that spun while I stood still, even with the room spinning, no movement was heard throughout the gym, nothing but Bucky’s invisible shoving at me to get the hell out of this gym.

I was on my own, just like before. I have always been on my own. Even after I had joined this group of misfits, I was the one looking in from the outside.

I somehow made it to the gym door, and grasped onto it, catching my dying breaths. I felt like I was going to be sick, and I wasn’t going to shame myself further by vomiting on my exit out of this gymnasium hell.

I gathered a steady balance and immediately set myself off to the bathroom down the hall. It was private so I could sob with no interruptions. Getting there was easy. Throwing up was easier. Coming to terms with the fact that I’d just unveiled my weakness in front of the people I called, ‘family’? A family that frowned on weakness, by the way. That was something by mind couldn’t conquer, or convey. How was I ever going to get off of this cold tile and make it to my room? What was going to happen next to me? Would I be kicked off? Or just sent into filing mission reports with the nerds in the basement who all had this weird look of fascination every time they saw me bring them the files that needed to be written up. It creeped me out, and I really didn’t want to leave Stark tower, too.

“FUCK!” I yelled to the audience of the vacant bathroom. I hated this damn world right now, nothing could get worse. I was absolutely sure nothing would be worse than right now.

Today, though, the lord was mad at something I’d done in the past, I believe. Because after splashing my face with cold water, washing out my mouth and smoothing down my unpleasant post-gym hair-frizz, I walked out of the bathroom, ready to bolt to the elevators and get to my room as fast as possible.

However, I was blocked by a 200 lb mass of muscle that had been lingering outside the door, anxiously waiting for the lock to turn and for me to emerge.

I yelped and felt my tired knees buckle but before I smashed my body onto the tiling, I was caught by two strong hands. Two strong, strangely different in texture and temperature, hands.

“Woah, sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you.” Opening my eyes I was met with eyes that we’re the summer sky’s afternoon colored blue. The midnight’s bewitching sky was the color of straight hair that framed the face that those eyes belonged to.


“S-s-sorry,” I muttered, feeling a weird mix of anger, fear, and embarrassment inside my chest. I stood up as fast as I could and shook myself out of those, surprisingly comfortable, arms. “I came here to just say that what happened in the gym today was complete-”

“Save it. What you said in there was all true. So don’t apologize for shoving my face in a pie of reality…” I tried to push my way past the mass of man but Bucky put an arm up against the doorframe, blocking me once again.

Bucky’s face was drowning in confusion and frustration. He knew why I was so pissed and wanted to run, but he didn’t understand the words I let fall from my lips so freely.

“No! That not what I came to say-”

“What! More insults! Fine, then… bring it on. I’m dead inside already, you’re just trying to kill a corpse now, Barnes.”

Bucky felt devastated, did I really think that low of him? He sure made it easy to make it so I did, but he always believed I held onto a bit of light for him.

Apparently not.

“You think I came to insult you-”

“Why else would you speak to me!”

“Let me fucking finish a goddamn sentence and you’ll find out! Fuck! Why does everything turn into a fight with you!”

“Because you make it one, Bucky! I can never satisfy you in the gym. You never even glance at me anytime we pass each other. I don’t even remember a thank you after I saved you from that sniper you missed!”

“I didn’t miss him! I knew he was there, I was gonna knock his ass out!” I bellowed a fake laugh at Bucky’s attempt to gain himself some sort of manliness just because I let him live…men.

“Were you going to knock him on his ass before or after he released the trigger you wouldn’t even hear, letting a bullet hit you right in the pulmonary artery. I like to call that shot instant death… so when would it be, James!”

“Don’t talk to me like that and use my name as if we’re friends.”

Bucky sneered down at me. I had nothing left to lose. So, why not take a few verbal swings at the man who dashed my dreams of helping the world just one more time?

“What are you gonna do? Kill me? Hit me? Take me to Fury? Go ahead, do all three, I have nothing left, Bucky! In 24 hours I’m going to be homeless and you’ll be here, sleeping in night terrors that we all fuckin’ hear at night. So go ahead and hurt me. Hurt me like you did not even an hour ago in front of my used-to-be family…” I had tears running down my cheeks that were just two ripe tomatoes. I was breathless from my rant, making my chest rising up and down.

“I just wanted to fucking tell you that I’m sorry! I was a dick in there and I’ve been one since I met you. I wanted to clean our slate because you are an amazing fighter. One of the damn best, counting Romanoff and Barton. Look,”

Bucky absentmindedly tucked a tuft of hair that had fallen from my loosened braid, behind my ear. Leave his hand lingering near my cheek, wiping my tears away. This was no Bucky that I’d ever known, this was a new one, one that I thought I was going to meet two years ago, but I was met with passive aggressive Bucky. This… this was James Buchanan Barnes. Not Bucky, Barnes, Winter Soldier… just James B. Barnes.

“Then why tell me to leave? Why kick my ass in front of everyone, telling them I should leave?”

“Because! I- I was trying to save face… but like always, I went too far.”

“Wait, what?”

There was a pregnant pause before I heard a mutter come from Buck, “Punk read my diary…”

I couldn’t help the giggle that released from my tense chest, letting the steam that lingered in there, die down. I had no tears threatening to fall, and I had no shake in my voice. I felt… safe? No… I think I felt comfort, with Bucky right now. That was a first.

Bucky’s shoulders fell with no more tension tightening them. His face brightened, illuminating his usually flat, creamy, pale skin.

”I’m so sorry I hurt you. Verbally and physically… that the last thing I’d ever want to do to you… all I want is to protect you, give you a happy life. I don’t know where my head has been these last two years but seeing you walk out those doors… made me finally accept that I can’t be without you. You’re a chatterbox, an amazing midnight sandwich chef, a terrible dancer, a loving, kind person…”

Our bodies we’re moving closer to each word Bucky spoke, his metal hand now slithered it’s way to the small of my back, bringing me finally nose to nose with the man who kicked my ass an hour ago. Now confessing his feelings for me…

Bucky Barnes was not one to be subtle, I guess.

“What are you asking me, James?” I was dipping my foot into the pool again, testing my waters with him. This time, though, when I said his real name, a broad smile appeared, and the hold on me just got tighter, and stronger with a sense of desire awaiting in his grasp.

“I’m asking you, to forgive my horrible, facade, and accept me telling you that I’m crazy about you doll…” I let out a breathless laugh, almost astounded to hear such words come from his lips.

“What can I do to make it up to you? I’ll do anything, Even if it’s going to China and back for a chocolate bar… what can I give you? Do for you?” A smile on my face brought a laugh, I brought my hand to cup his worried face, stroking it to calm the pounding in his heart. “Just… kiss me where it hurts,” 

Bucky’s tentative eyes almost frantically started looking me up and down, trying to find a spot of pain. “Where does it hurt, doll?” 

“Right here…” I whispered. With a dip of my head and nudge of my nose on his cheek, I kissed him. Feeling no longer like I was being held in his embrace, I was now, just floating in thin air. His arm didn’t weigh me down it lifted me up. His lips didn’t hurt my heart, they made it pump in a thrilling manner. His eyes didn’t frantically search the room around us whenever they made a connection with mine, now they just stayed staring at me. Never leaving my big and bright, loving eyes that looked into his with desire.

I no longer felt lost, like I had no family. Like I was on my own. With Bucky, now, I had a home. And that home traveled with me when I left those blue eyes. My home only felt more secure when I was finally laying in these arms, talking about my day, the things that happened. The good and the bad.

I guess I had been looking for a home for so long I’d forgotten what home felt like…

My home was never a place, but a feeling. One that only your soulmate could ever give you. I’ve realized, now, that your soulmate can be that one person you’d thought hated with a passion.

I guess soulmates have a good way of hiding behind smoke and mirrors until the time is right, though.

a/n: Let me know your thoughts! I hope this one is a bit different then the normal asshole bucky suddenly becomes sweet!Bucky. I always love hearing from you guys! Never be afraid to hit me up!! 

Here’s what’s up next: Last part to @giftofdreams and I’s collaboration three part: A Hidden Hero: 1 & 2 

my last imagine: Keep Holding On


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Unknown Identities

request: john laurens x reader, soulmate AU

notes: made it a female reader because it wasn’t specified :) [F/N] is your first name, [L/N] is your last name, and [F/L/N] is the first initial of your name.

warnings: none

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Prompt: Clash of social classes in which Luhan is poor

Genre: ??? I actually have no idea how to categorize this. Mild angst? Idek

Word Count: 1987

The first time you saw him, you had to do a double take.

Yeah, he had some dirt and grime smudged into his skin, clothes that had seen better days, and his hair looked like it hadn’t been washed in a while, but he was still cute. In fact, you didn’t look back at him because of his clothing status, or hair; there were plenty of other people on the streets like that. You looked back because he was handsome, and it wasn’t until you took the second glance that you noticed his ragged appearance. And putting both observations together caused confusion, or was it intrigue?

Whatever it was, it made you slow down because you began to stare.

He noticed.

You quickly looked forward again and began walking to the subway entrance a little bit faster, failing to see him duck his head to stare back at the ground as soon as your eyes met.

Every day, when you walked to the subway to go home, he was there, sitting against an old building, sometimes singing, and always a tin can for charity change which sat in front of him. Beside him, there lay an old, yet reliable backpack with rationed food, water bottles, a blanket, a jacket, and the money he received from yesterday.

Every day you’d pass by him, and every day the two of you would make fleeting eye contact.

It wasn’t until one day, a month later, that you got off work early and stopped to listen to him sing. He had his eyes closed, and he was leaning back with his hand folded over his chest. If he wasn’t singing, you’d think he was sleeping.

His voice was sweet and captivating and when he held out his last note, you found yourself wishing the song didn’t end.

He opened his eyes and looked up at you.

You startled back a step, blinking a few times, before clearing your throat and pulling out the first bill in your bag that your fingers felt to drop it into the can.

“You have a really nice voice,” you said with a friendly smile.

“Thanks. That took a while to say hello, though, not gonna lie.” He grinned back.

“Well…yeah, yeah it was. What’s your name?”

“Luhan. Yours?”

“Can I treat you to some coffee?”

It had been a couple weeks since you made acquaintances with Luhan, and every day on your way home, you would greet each other and whatever spare change you had was dropped into his can with soft, metallic clanking. Now you wanted to treat him to some coffee, spend a little free time together. He was cool.

“I don’t want to bother you with-”

“Nah, don’t worry about it, Luhan. I wanna hang out with you. Tell me a story or something.”

“Well…I guess, yeah. Sure. Thanks.”

“So where did you go yesterday?” You asked as he sipped his cup. “I didn’t see you at your spot.”

“I was at a hotel.”

“A hotel? Why?”

“To wash up. Once I save enough money, I can get a proper bed, a warm shower, TV, room service, though I rarely order it. I only get it if I really have enough.”

“So you only get to shower once every week or so?”

He took a long draw from the steaming cup before answering. “Warm shower,” he corrected. “I wash up whenever I can, and I take the little shampoo things from the rooms. But I go if I have enough. That’s after making sure I have enough to feed myself and get water and other essentials. Sometimes it’s choosing between a blanket or a bed. Winter can get pretty harsh, but people tend to be more generous around Christmas time. Sometimes I get enough to stay at a hotel for two days. Summer is the worst though. It’s hot and you’re all sweaty and gross and that just adds more negative appeal to your appearance.” He took another gulp.

You sat there, watching the steam rise and curl from your coffee, letting his words sink in.

“So you really are homeless?”

He chuckled. “Believe me. If I had a place to settle down, I would.”

“How long have you lived like this?”

“Hmmm…a couple years? I moved from my old spot because some of the guys there were getting troublesome and I like my face.”

“It’s a good face.”

“You know it,” he replied with a smirk. “But just so you don’t get the wrong idea,” his face grew serious again, “I don’t sit against that wall all day begging for money. It’s humiliating, honestly. Anyone who begs has to stuff down and even destroy whatever pride they have in themselves to ask strangers for money, and all we can be is thankful because without their charity…well, too bad the world revolves around wealth.”

“Would it…would it be too much to ask what happened?”

He shook his head. “Nah…not really. A lot of people actually have the same or similar stories.” He downed the last of his coffee and took a bite of the pastry you bought him. “Basically what happened was I made a bad investment at the worst time. I loaned my friend a good bit of money to help support him in his business that he wanted to start, and it had a good future if it wasn’t for the city’s economic downturn four years ago. His business was crushed, he couldn’t pay me back, a bunch of people like myself got laid off, I couldn’t pay for my bills or my home, and eventually I had to move out to the streets.”

“I’m so sorry that happened.”

“Yeah, I am too, but right now, the best I can do is just get by and save money as best as I can.” He took another bite and chewed slowly, staring at a spot on the table. “It’s funny,” he said after he swallowed, “most people who are homeless don’t actually live on the streets. Even I don’t stay out here for too long. I usually crash at a friend’s house, like most, but I felt bad for mooching all the time so I’m just…enjoying the fresh air…I actually know quite a few kids who are homeless too.”


“Mhmm. If parents lose their jobs, their homes, so do their kids. The sad thing is, since most places require a solid bank account and address and stuff, it’s really hard to get back on your feet once it’s gone. Believe me, not all of us are junkies or alcoholics. A lot of us are trying to get a home, a job, our lives back. Even people who work can be homeless too. I’m working, but housing can get really expensive in the cities so I’m saving as much as I can for a small apartment at least…sorry, I’m rambling.” He took another bite.

“No, it’s fine. It's…a bit of a perception change.”


“So what do you do.”

“Ambitiously washing dishes. My shift ends about half an hour before you pass by and then I sing a little sometimes, it helps.”

You finished your coffee. Here was this pleasant, friendly person with a nice sense of humor and a good heart, working as best as he could and still barely scraping by each day. A world revolving around money instead of character. And here you were working a solid job with great pay, with a huge inheritance from your family, and living in the penthouse suite of the chain of apartments your family also owned.

“Hey, Luhan?”


“I uh…my family actually owns quite a few apartment complexes, condos and such. I can see if we can give you an address to keep, I’m sure we can, and you can pay it off when you can and I can help you if you want. Please let me help you.”

He stared at you, wide-eyed and still processing. It took a few moments to for him to clear his throat to reply. His eyes hardened with cautious defense.

“Look, don’t take this the wrong way but homeless people can disappear easily and pretty much no one would notice. How do I know you aren’t gonna, I dunno, sell me or something. I don’t even know who you really are.

This startled you. “O-oh. Well, I…damn, I-I’m sorry. I didn’t think of how weird it might be for you but I, uh…”

You pulled out your phone and typed your family name into the search engine. You started laughing, unable to believe you were actually looking yourself up.

“Here. I know this is super weird and stuff but this is really me. I just, I just really want to help a friend out.”

He stared.

“What the fuck? You're…you’re rich? Like rich, rich! How-what?”

“I really-”

“No. Hold up. You’re super rich like, really fucking rich?”

“My family is. I still work.”

“But you-what are you, some billionaire philanthropist? What are you doing just talking with me over a cup of coffee? Shouldn’t you be living in some CEO penthouse suite for the rest of your life? Why do you use the subway? The fuck?!”

“My parents raised me to earn my money. My family is rich but I’m not so different from regular people either, and I guess I just got used to taking the subway. Seriously though, I…I wanna help you out.”

He chewed on his lip, turning the whole situation over in his mind.

“But I-I don’t have enough…well, enough anything to pay you back. Why would you-”

“Please. Don’t worry about it. Think of it like…like I’m making an investment. As long as you work hard.”

“You’re serious?”


“This isn’t some sort of joke, you’re actually gonna help?”

“Yes, I am. It’s just not fair for you, for anyone.”

He looked down. “The world isn’t fair, but damn.” He looked you in the eyes, his emotions swimming and you could tell he was forcing himself not to cry. “Thank you. Thank you so much. It’s been so hard when almost everyone passes by you without looking, and when they do it’s with pity or contempt or disgust. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I really don’t know how to thank-” His voice broke and he began sobbing, biting back the sounds that wanted to escape from his throat. He just hid his face in his hands, as his shoulders shook with the weight of life being lifted off, even if it was just a little.

You had invited him to your penthouse suite for a warm dinner and a nice shower and the spare bed while everything got sorted out.

You changed into something more comfortable and when you left your bedroom, you found him standing close to the window wall. He looked down, watching the night lights of the city, the moving life so far beneath him.

“It’s beautiful,” he said quietly.

“Yeah,” you stood next to him and looked down. “Yeah, it is.” Seeing the city from so far up in his point of view, his view that was always on the stained concrete, it really was very beautiful.

“Maybe that’s why so many people in this position are ruthless, thinking they’re better than the rest of us,” he whispered mostly to himself. “They’re just so used to looking down on everyone. And everyone seems to have to look down on someone else to feel better about themselves…isn’t it sad?”

You could only nod and you stared at the breathing lights below.

“Thank you for not being that kind of person, and don’t let the fleeting image of money or power cloud your kindness. Because anyone. Anyone can become homeless. Who are we to put our security in bits of paper and the intangible concept of ownership. All our stuff will go to someone else sooner or later, so why should it matter so much?”


REQUESTED:  ‘Can you write an imagine about calfreezy and (y/n) finally dating after a few years of being really close friends. But can it be that harry like her too and they start to get close and this is when cal realizes he needs to lock it down with her. sorry if this is a weird request haha’

I knocked on the door, putting my phone back into my back pocket. As it opened I was instantly pulled into his chest, his arms wrapping around my small frame. 

“Y/N! I missed you!”

“I missed you too Cal.”

“Can I get you a drink? How was your Christmas?”

We exchanged small talk as I sat down on his sofa, watching him move around the kitchen. He told me about his Christmas, his family, what gifts he received this year and I told him about the same sort of thing. Eventually he glided over, sitting down next to me on the sofa. He placed the mug in my hands and I smiled as I felt the steam rise up against my face.

“So Y/n, enough small talk. What’s going on in your life?”

“What makes you think anything is going on?”

He took a sip of the hot chocolate, looking at me. “Oh come on. You always have something going on!”

I smiled, placing my cup down on the table in front of me and pulling my knees into my chest. 

“Okay, I guess there’s one thing.”

“ooooh okay, spill!”


His face appeared to drop. “Harry?”


“Um, what about Harry?”

“Well..I don’t know. He’s been texting me a lot lately.” I played with my fingers, avoiding Cal’s eyes. I don’t know why I felt so uncomfortable talking to him on this topic. Cal was my best friend, and I could speak to him about everything from sex to periods to insecurities. In the many years of our friendship I had thrown up on Cal, cried on Cal, let him see me in my underwear and even shared a flat with him for a year. But right now, talking to him about his best friend, I couldn’t feel more uncomfortable. The look on his face as he followed up with questions suggested he felt the same way.

“Texting you?” he asked, his face lacking the smile it held only a minute ago. “Saying what?”

“I don’t know, just like..asking me to go out for a drink and stuff. It’s probably nothing-”

“It’s never nothing with Harry. You know that Y/N.”

The conversation once again fell silent, and I avoided the eye that I could feel burning into me. However Cal wasn’t satisfied with my answer. 

“Are you gonna go through with it?” I looked up at him. “ you want him?”

“Cal it’s just texting-”

“That’s not what I asked.” His voice was blank and harsh, like he felt no affection towards me. Like I was nothing. This hurt me.

“Why are you so mad about this?” I sat up suddenly, not happy with the anger in his voice. Cal has seen my heart get broken by so many boys in the past, and now the one chance I have at maybe being happy, and he doesn’t wanna hear it. “What you don’t wanna see me happy?”

“Y/N of course I wanna see you happy!”

“Then what’s the fucking problem?”


The room was silent. Tension filled the dark winter air. 

“I love you alright! Is that good enough? What’s bothering me is that I love you, and you will never love me back. And I have coped with that for so long because having you as a friend was better than not having you at all. But having to sit back and watch one of my best friends have you when I’ve wanted you for so long? I can’t do that Y/n.”

Speechless I looked up at the boy, his face pale and vulnerable under the lights shining through the window. 

“Yeah, see. My point exactly.”

He stood up to walk away but I grabbed his arm, telling him to wait. He turned around to face me and I placed a hand on his face.

“I think I love you too.”

He instantly picked me up, holding me around his waist and pressing his lips onto mine. I buried my face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his cologne. 

“Yep. I really do love you.” 

Way Down We Go


Hello wonderful Plums, I’m really sorry for being so…off recently, but I really want to thank you all so fricking much for your support because it means so much to me and I know I say that a lot but it’s the wholehearted truth. On another note, this is an idea I’ve had for a while and wanted to get it out there to all of you, I’m such a big fan of GerardXPatrick but can hardly find anything on these two amazing people so I thought I’d change that - so this is one of my (many) personal one-shot projects. The title was inspired by ‘Way Down We Go’ by Kaleo which (I felt) summed up the feel of the plot pretty well - and basically listened to it while writing this entire thing, so I definitely say that you should give it a listen! All that said, I really hope you enjoy this!

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Of Dogs and Boys

Yesterday sucked. 

I decided to steam clean the rug, which frightened off the pupper.

Originally posted by bloodrails-blog-blog

So Calder (said pupper) went to hide underneath my daughter’s bed. Several minutes later, I hear my 5 year old son crying. I go upstairs to his bedroom and he’s grasping his face. I come over to him, and removes his hand, to reveal blood all over his nose and cheek. I believe I actually said, “Eeyah!

I pick him up and take him to the bathroom to wash off his face. He’s got scratches down his face with a few gouges. It looks something like this:

(Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating.)

So once the blood is washed off and I can see the extent of the wound, it’s obvious my adorable, sweet playful pupper has attacked my sweet, brave, strong, affectionate son.

I hold him close and ask what happened. 

“Calder bit me.”


I bring him downstairs to my husband, and we decide he doesn’t need stiches, but he is going to need a broader array of bandaids (we only have the one size) and neosporin (since we don’t know what box its packed in).

Originally posted by lovable-oaf

While my husband runs to CVS, I ask my son what happened. Am I going to have to return my cuddly puppy to the rescue? Because as much as I love dogs, as much as I have come to use Calder as my own unofficial therapy pup, my son will always be more important. 

There are people for whom their pets are equals to their children; I am simply not one of them.

“Did she growl at you?” Because we’ve had the discussion that if a dog growls it means ‘Stay Away!’


“What were you doing?”

“Trying to play with her.”

“Where was she?”

“Under the bed.”

“So she was under the bed, you wanted to play with her, you tried to grab her, and she growled.”

He nods. “Then what?”

“I kept trying to get her out to play.”

Originally posted by tiptoesims

So yes, Calder bit him, but it was totally and utterly provoked. And the only reason it was his face was because they were both under the bed.

But still, I was stressed out. For context, my 5 year old was bitten, unprovoked, by my sister-in-law’s dog last October, to the point of puncturing his lip and requiring stitches. 

So as I’m holding him, all I can think is that if my son is permanently (and understandably) terrified of dogs, we are going to have to return Calder to the rescue. And that how could I, my son’s parent, let him be hurt twice in the same year by dogs. How I should have never gotten a dog; I should have know my son might get hurt. 

I cried, my son in my arms.

Originally posted by anony-moose-panda

My son fell asleep in my arms, face covered in bandaids. I fell asleep later, with the aid of anti-anxiety meds. 


Regina gets a visitor during a storm.


The storm had started in the middle of the night, and as morning broke it did not let up. The wind howled outside and rain hammered against the window.

Regina had slept restlessly. The lightning kept jerking her out of her sleep. It was eight am, but felt much earlier with how dark it still was. She slipped on her robe and wrapped it tightly around herself - the weather unusually chilly for June, even in a summer storm.

She made her way to the kitchen and started fixing herself a brew of coffee. It was apparent she would be going no where today. And no one would be coming to her.

Thank goodness.

It was getting tiresome. The frequent checkup’s on her ‘wellbeing’. They were poorly disguised.

Just made a whole lot of extra casserole and thought I’d share it around.’

'Neal is driving me crazy and I needed a break while David took a go a taking care of him.’

'Emma said she would have my head if I didn’t come by and make sure you hadn’t gone all 'evil queen’ on our asses again.’

At least Hook had been honest with her.

And to be honest she was… ok.

She was living and breathing, she still had Henry (though last night he had been at Emma’s, and who knew if the storm was going to let up enough for him to safely come around tonight). She was… ok.

Or at the very least… she wasn’t about to force Emma to flee because she put a warrant out for her head on a silver platter.

Regina was looking forward to a day of peace and quiet. Of having a valid excuse to be locked indoors, lie in bed and… just not care about anything. She didn’t need to do her hair… hell, she didn’t even need to shower if she chose not to.

Then the doorbell rang.

She didn’t bother to suppress the groan. Of course they found a way to bother her still. The raging storm was happening outside and they still came around unwelcomed.

Regina quickly prepared her speech, telling them to go away, to go back to their warm home (although she could almost hear Snow, or Tinkerbell pulling out a 'oh no, it looks like it’s getting much worse, I should stay here a couple of hours’). She opened the door and was greeted with… no one…

Until she looked down.

Regina gasped at the little boy, soaked to his very core shivering before her.

'Roland!’ She exclaimed. She ushered him inside without a moment’s hesitation, using her magic to summon a blanket from the living room and wrap around his shaking form. 'Roland what on earth…’


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Tylenol Midnight 3atre: Hot Potato

Title: Hot Potato
Rating: G
Summary: Potato Rescue is the hottest new food truck nobody knows about. Steve is determined to make Sam Wilson king of all potatoes.  
Warnings: None. 
Notes: This takes place in the Foodiverse, where everyone’s a chef, because of reasons. (Also thanks to post-and-out for Sam’s twitter handle.)

“Eat this,” Bucky said, and shoved a foil package the size of a tennis ball in Steve’s face.

“No,” Steve said, but he took the foil package and began prying it open.

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Part 1: {if you haven’t read part 1 ^^^}

Jack Gilinsky Break-Up Imagine

Part 2 -

You slammed the door shut and walked out. You heard Jack shout your name but you carried on walking. You couldn’t control the tears, they just kept coming and coming. You were unable to control your sobbing. You opened Jack’s front door. “Are you alright Y/N?” You heard Jacks mum say, you shouted yes and shut the front door behind you. Jacks mum had always treated you as one of her own, always been like a second mother to you. You could tell her anything and everything. You drive and drive, tears steaming down your face. Your house is only around the corner so it didn’t take you long to get home. Your mum and dad are on there anniversary holiday, like every year and your glad because if they saw you in this mess they’d wonder why. They’ve never really liked jack, he’s always been the “bad boy”. Jack ones swore in front of my mum and she was horrified. She stopped me from seeing him for a month but every night jack would throw a stone at my window and climb up a ladder in to my room. I didn’t sleep very well through that month as it was always around 2am he did that.
After falling asleep on your bed for about 3 hours you decided to get up. It was 8pm. You checked your phone to see if you had any messages from him. But nothing… You walked down the stairs and in to the lounge you flicked on the tv, you watched my sisters keeper and cried a lot. Just as the credits came on there was a knock at your door. You walked up, trying to look like you hadn’t just been crying. You opened the door and standing there was Jack. “Before you slam the door in my face please just can we talk?” He said. “No we can fucking not Jack, you broke my heart!” You said, angrily. You tried to close the door but he kept his foot in the way. “Woah, woah, woah. Hold your shitty horses! You broke up with me!” He laughed sarcastically. “I did what I had to do because of the way you were treating me. What did you expect me to do?” You said angry. “Just let me come in and can we talk.. Please?” You opened the door and he walked in and shut it behind him. You both sat down on the sofa. “So..” Jack said. “Go on then, say what you need to say and then get the fuck out.” You said. He raised his eyebrow at you and then made himself comfortable. ” I just feel like I can’t be assed to try. I’ve been so busy lately and there’s things that have to come first, I mean after all it is my job.” He said. You felt a tear escape. “More important things. Okay. Well I see where I stand then..” Your voice was quiet and weak. “No babe. I didn’t mean it like that.” “Well that’s exactly what you just said Jack. Do you wanna know how I feel?” He nodded. “Useless, I feel useless. Exactly as you just told me. I’m coming last which shouldn’t happen when your in a relationship. We’ve been going out for a year now and everything was fine before this vine app but now ‘us’ is slowly fading away.” He reached up and cupped your face in his hands with his thumb he wiped your tear away. You just stared straight in to each other’s eyes. “But I still love you. I always have and I always will.” He said, you looked down at the ground, sad. “I knew that one day you would stop loving me. So, here we are. I was right. I win. You don’t have to say you love me anymore because I know the truth. You’ve never been the type of guy to hold a relationship Jack. You’ve never been able to fully commit. ” You said, I need to get out of here I’m sorry.” You stood up, you felt dizzy and unstable as if you were going to faint. “Just make your own way out.” And with that you left, you collapses on your front lawn when you got out of the door. You were sobbing and crying so hard that it felt like you could cry a river. All this time, and it was over. It’s what you wanted you told yourself, you couldn’t put yourself through that pain any longer. But jack was your first and only love and that’s a hard thing to my want and to get over.

This was highly requested so I made sure to do it. Sorry it took me a whole to post, I wrote it once and didn’t like it so I rewrote it all. If there is anything you would like to request, just leave a question in my ask box and I’ll be sure to see it :)

I really hope you enjoy these imagines, feedback would be appreciated 💙

Baking 101

TITLE: Baking 101


AUTHOR : tomcuddlesfic


GENRE: fluff / romance /

FIC SUMMARY: OC learns to bake from the old batty woman next door. 


AUTHORS NOTES/WARNINGS: A little bit late for the challenge I put myself up for but here it is. I’ve recently gotten myself into baking so why not write one on baking? 

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Pairing: Dean x Reader

Words: 1,064

Song: Delicate-Damien Rice 

Summary: Set in season four, about six months after Dean gets out of hell. One-shot, basically just some good ole, slightly angsty FLUFF! 

A/N: Here you go deanandsammywinchesterboys​ here is your fluff, I hope you like it :) Sorry it took way longer than expected, todays been kind of hectic. Hope you feel better!!

Your name: submit What is this?

No sooner than you had arrived at the motel room had Sam crashed abruptly onto one of the queen sized beds. Dean ran to the bathroom, starting the shower before you could object. Great. You stripped down to your bra, now caked with dirt from the recent run-in with one particularly vengeful spirit. As you checked yourself for wounds you found a large bruise on your ribs, nothing too serious. Steam rolled out of the restroom as Dean ambled out, towel wrapped around his waist. You did your best not to gawk at his taut muscles and broad shoulders, still a few drops of water running down his toned abdomen. After accompanying the Winchesters on numerous hunts over the years, you had seen the older brother half-naked on several occasions. However, the effect it had on your furiously beating heart never lessened.

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you’re a king (and I’m a lionheart)

Rated: T; some language, lots of feels

Words: ~2300

Spoilers for 5A and 5B.  

Based off of recent filming and bts spoilers concerning the Jones family.  Includes a touch of captain swan.  Title from the lyrics of this song.

Notes: Okay, so it’s been said in a tweet by Adam Croasdell, I believe, that daddy Jones’ name is not Davy.  But in the absence of an alternative, that is what I am going to use.  Also, each time I’d just about finish with this, new spoilers would be released, I’d need a bit of time to flail, I’d change some things, rinse and repeat.  But the feels are too much, please take this while I go cry.

Also on ao3 and

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Dear makeup artists,

   This is where I started, and this is where I am now. I often felt like I was never going to get any better and that there was no point in trying. But I fought through that. I practiced, and practiced, and practiced again. Several times with this design. It has changed in these last two years yes, but the original concept still exists. So if you ever feel still discouraged or down or depressed, know that you can always grow and get better. And don’t let anyone tell you different. :)