The last day I spent with Addy started with a long novel of a text message at six am. His mom, Kathy, had an out of town family emergency. She was incredibly vague about what was actually happening, but insisted that it was urgent, and that I really needed to watch Addy for the day. Since I was on break, and I liked Addy slightly more than I disliked Kathy, I told her I was on my way. When I stepped in the door, she stepped out. She looked disheveled, to say the least.
“Thank you so much sweety, I’ll be home as soon as I can.” Without even waiting for a response she got into her car, and I closed the door.
Addy was on the ground surrounded by a sea of legos.
“Hey, what are you building buddy?” I got as close as I could without crushing anything and squatted down.
@shawarma-palace and I were bullshitting around the other day about an AU idea where Finn’s picture is being used to catfish someone in a Nigerian Prince scheme. He said I could write it, so here’s my exceedingly silly take.
“This is outrageous!” Poe stood and paced away from the computer angrily.
“Mijo, I think you’re getting a little-”
“A little what? Righteous on mi abuela’s behalf? What if she’d clicked on it?”
“Well, I mean, that’s why she called me, and I called you. She has good instincts.”
Poe still boiled with rage. “That’s not the point. What if it
had been Senora Hernandez? Or Fatima? These people are despicable.”
“Well, I won’t argue with you there,” Kes grumbled, feeling exasperated.
“I’m going to-” Poe’s fists clenched as he sat down again to try
and figure out how exactly to punish these assholes for coming after
his abuela. It was your typical Nigerian Prince ploy - “Oh, help me, I need a small deposit to unlock my amazing riches - and for credibility they’d even included a picture of the
supposed Nigerian Prince. Who was, Poe realized as he was momentarily
distracted, extremely good looking. Poe almost reached out his hand to run it over the line in the man’s fade,
but caught himself in time before he embarrassed himself in front of his
dad. He colored, though, and renewed his frown. “I wonder if this
asshole used his own picture.”
He ran the reverse image search while his dad wandered away, throwing up his hands with a “You do you, Poe.”
The guy popped on Facebook, surprisingly. Finn Garo. Same pic
for his profile, but his profile was unlocked, so Poe could click
through all of his pictures - for research, of course. Here was Finn at a
party with a red solo cup, Finn sitting with a group of other college
students, Finn graduating college with lots of fancy ropes hanging
around his neck, someone - his mom? Abuela? - kissing his cheek as he
bent over and beamed. Finn at Pride, and at the Women’s March, and at a
handful other marches or vigils or protests.
As Poe kept clicking through Finn’s profile, he forgot his
original intent and got sucked in full on cyberstalking this Finn guy.
He was gorgeous. He was into social justice. He had earned his
Bachelor’s in … in…Computer Science. Poe perked up in his chair again,
and he’d clicked on the Facebook message button and sent off the note
before he’d thought better of it.
Poe: Listen, buddy, what you’re doing is despicable. You pick on little old ladies? Why don’t you come pick on me instead?
Poe watched the three dots cycle through.
Finn: I’m sorry, I have no idea what you’re talking about?
Poe tapped the keys of the computer angrily as he sent a screenshot of Finn’s picture and the Nigerian Prince email.
Finn: Oh, shit. Wow.
Poe furrowed his brow.
Finn: Um. Yeah, that’s definitely me, but I didn’t write that email.
Finn: Not that you have to believe me, but. Um. Who would be stupid enough to use their own picture?
He had a point.
Poe: You have a point.
Poe burned bright red now.
Poe: Um. Yeah. I didn’t really think that through.
Poe: I saw you were a Computer Science major and I kind of saw red.
Finn: Should I be flattered? I think I should be flattered that they’re using my likeness for a *prince*
Poe: Idk, buddy. I guess?
Poe: Sorry to disturb you, your highness
Finn: I’m going to have my friends call me that.
Finn: but seriously, I feel bad
Poe: Well, I mean, you’re as much a victim as my abuela is
Finn: Did they scam her out of a lot of money?
Poe: No, she’s smarter than that. But it’s the principle of the thing.
Finn: Sure. Anyone comes for my grandma, I’d react the same way.
Finn: I’m sorry, man.
Poe: Thanks. And, um, sorry for wildly accusing you.
Finn: Water under the bridge.
Finn Garo has sent you a friend request.
Finn: Eh, I’ve made friends in weirder circumstances. You should hear the story of how my friend Rey and I met.
AN: At the bottom with be pics to help you visualize!!
The helicopter landed on the island and you and Steve got out. As soon as you two hit the tarmac Steve grabbed the bags from your hand. “Steve, it’s your birthday, I should be carrying all our bags.”
“Technically it’s not my birthday until next week. And my birthday doesn’t cancel out the fact that I have to be good to my girl.” You grinned as you walked down to where your rental car, a red Audi, was waiting. “Look at this,” Steve said admiring the car. “You going to let me drive?”
You laughed, “It’s not your birthday yet Stevie.” You slide into the driver’s seat and took off towards your beach house with Steve looking out the window and taking in the new scenery. You cruised down road and slowed down when you approached the sudden off the course path. After minutes of driving down the path you saw the brown and white house coming up quick. “This is it,” you said pulling up the main driveway and into the garage.
“This is great,” Steve got out and stretched, taking in the house that was right on the beach. You beat him to the punch and grabbed half the bags.
“Come on, I’ll give you the tour,” you smiled and led him inside your Bermuda home. “This is the living room, the kitchen, and in here,” you pulled open the double doors that lead into the master. “This is our room.” Steve walked into the large white bedroom and looked around before walking to the doors that opened out to the beach. You sat the bags on the floor and walked up behind Steve, wrapping your arms around him. “Want to see the rest of the house?”
He turned around with a smile, “I can think of something else I like to do first,” he lifted you up and walked away from the windows and towards the four post bed.
You woke up to the crashing and the breeze of the waves coming through the open doors in your room. You sat up and clenched the white sheets against your chest and looked around for Steve. You got up, grabbed his discarded shirt, and threw it on before tip toeing out into the main area. “Steve? Stevie?” You walked around and shivered as another breeze hit your skin. You walked up the stairs and saw the upper deck doors open. “Hey, I was wondering where you were,” you went up to Steve and sat down, nuzzling into his side, watching the sunset.
“I didn’t want to wake you so I explored your house a little bit. Nice shirt by the way,” he chuckled.
“Thanks,” you laughed. “Did you get to see the whole place?”
“I did, it’s great. I love it here.”
“Let’s just stay here and never go back,” you pleaded.
“That sounds like a great plan,” he said and kissed your forehead. “How do you feel. Was everything…,” he blushed awkwardly, “ok?”
“I feel great and you were great. I’m glad we waited.”
*One Week Later*
You carried the tray of breakfast into your room and started singing. “Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday dead Steve. Happy birthday to you,” you sang him awake and he sat up with a smile, rubbing his eyes. “Happy birthday, Babe,” you kissed him and sat the tray on his lap.
“Breakfast in bed. I could get used to this special treatment,” he joked and dug in. “This is delicious.”
“Good, I’m glad. And when you’re done with that your birthday present is upstairs on the overlook.” So once Steve was done you stood up on your tip toes and covered his eyes as he crossed the upstairs hallway. “Ready.” He nodded and you uncovered his eyes.
“Wow. Y/N, this is great. This is too much,” he walked forwards and looked at the large spread of art supplies that sat overlooking the ocean. A large essile sat with one of the canvases on it. A stack of boxes with oil paints, acrylic paints, colored pencils, pencils, and another sketch book. “Thank you so much!”
“You are more than welcome. I figured you’d want to sketch out the ocean while we were here or mess around with your new paints.”
“You’re too good to me.” A smirk came across his face and he moved the essile towards one of the chairs. “Take a seat for me right over there,” he pointed.
“Because it’s my birthday. Go on.” You took a seat and got comfortable. “Ok, don’t move a muscle.” He sat down with his new sketchbook, grabbed a pencil, and looked between you and the book. After an hour Steve finally flipped the book closed. “I’ll have to color this and add it to my collection.”
“What do you think I draw all the time.”
“I don’t know, the America flag,” you blushed! “You mean you draw me?”
“You’re my muse. What else would I draw?”
You spent the rest of the day swimming in the ocean and lounging in the sand and when dinner time approached you demanded Steve to shower, get dressed, and relax in the room while you prepared his birthday dinner. “Why can’t I st in here while you make it?”
“Because it’s a surprise! Start coloring in that picture you drew today, that’ll give you something to do.”
“Ok, fine fine,” he gave up with smile and walked into the bathroom to get cleaned and ready. You closed the bedroom doors and got to work in the kitchen, grabbing the fresh fish you had gotten delivered today. You sautéed the veggies, cooked the rice, and pulled out the bottle of wine before you ran on the beach and got your table for the night done.
“Stevie,” you called and waited for him to come out of the room. “You look very handsome. Are you ready for dinner?”
“I’m starving,” you wrapped your arm through his and took a step out onto the deck and followed the lights to the table that sat by the ocean. “You did all this?” You nodded. “This looks delicious.”
You poured the wine and raised your glass. “Happy birthday, Steve.”
“I love you,” he tapped your glass with his and took a sip. After you two finished dinner Steve stood up and held a hand out to you. “Come on. Let’s take a walk.” You took his hand and got up, starting your walk down the beach.
The sun was halfway hidden on the horizon when Steve stopped suddenly and bent down. “What are you doing,” you laughed.
“I saw the coolest shell that I thought you’d love but I can’t see where it went.” He moved around looking for the shell. “Here it is.” He stay kneeled but face you and opened his hand out to you. Except it wasn’t a shell in his hand; it was a diamond ring. “Y/N, the last nearly 2 years have been the greatest of my life. Every day that I get to wake up beside you is automatically an amazing day and I can’t imagine spending a day without wake up next to you. Please, do me the honor and give me the greatest birthday gift, and become my wife.”
“Are you kidding,” you laughed. “This is your birthday, I’m suppose to surprise you!”
“Is that a yes,” he grinned nervously.
“Of course it’s a yes,” you yelled and jumped down into his arms. You backed up just enough to let him slide the 3 stone ring on your finger. “It’s beautiful.”
“I wanted it classic enough that it would remind of us of the old days,” he smiled. “And the band is vibranium so if you ever find yourself in a fight you can still left hook,” he joked.
You wiped the tears from your eyes and planted a large kiss on Steve, “I love it. And I love you.”
A return to color! Yes!! My B02 ran out of ink some months ago, and I FINALLY ordered a replacement a little over a week ago. So now we’re back to doing Grace in full color, and it feels gooood.
This picture is probably one of the best summaries of her character. Who she is on the outside is a toned down version of the inside. I draw her in some pretty uncharacteristic poses sometimes, but she’s really not very social.
swearwords, arguing and a little bit of angst
Hello Sweetie 😊 I try and request also something. One with Steve
where you constantly fight but secretly you have a crush on each other. One time
Steve finds you sitting at the Roof of the Stark-Tower, crying. He immediately
joins you and hugs you, holding you close while you tell him how useless you
feel and that you disappoint all the People around you. He then tells you how
much you mean to everyone, especially to him and you finally confess your
feelings? :) Thx –Anonymous
sorry it took me so long to write your request doll, I absolutely love it! ♥
You ran your
fingers above the hard disk drives; numbers, pictures and words running to your
mind as a tornado of colors and shapes, filling it with the most protected
secrets of Hydra. Anything they had ever created, anything they had ever
planned or researched –everything now saved on your mind, locked in the safe
boxes of your brain.
A strict call for
your name caused you to flinch and the flood of information to crackle as you
shook your head, trying to push the voice out of it.
Well, Poppy loved almost everything–but rain was one of her favorites. So when she had awoken to the pitter-patter of water hitting her roof, she was thrilled. She spent most of the day cozy in her house, watching the drops hit the leaves of the trees around her while she worked on one of the many scrapbooks she had lying around. Her friends managed to drag her out for about an hour to enjoy an impromptu ‘singing-in-the-rain’ party, but she was quick to retreat home as soon as the cold started to seep in.
Summary: Reader and Bucky want to make new traditions for their first Christmas together with unexpected results.
Warnings: Fluff mostly, implied smut? Maybe? I dunno. :D
Word Count: 1654
A/N: This was written for @themercurialmadhatter (previously murialweathers I hope? That’s the name I received originally) or do you prefer @buckysplumfondler ? I’ll just tag both. :) I’m your Secret Santa!! I know you requested Bucky fluff/smut but I’m not a smut writer. This does have a little bit of heat in it, though! I really hope you like this.
“Let’s see,” you recalled, counting on your fingers as you spoke, “Tree lighting ceremony? Check. Ice skating at Rockefeller Center? Check. Window shopping at Macy’s? Check. Walk through Central Park as the snow falls? Now we can check that one off!”
“Yeah, but was it worth it, doll?” asked your favorite Super Soldier, settling down next to you on the couch in the common room.
You sniffled, snuggled up in a blanket as your attentive boyfriend handed you a mug of hot chocolate to warm you. The park, while beautiful and romantic as you strolled arm in arm with Bucky, it had also been absurdly freezing and now you could not get warm enough.
“Yes, it was!!” you assured him, curling into his side to steal his heat as well.
He let you pick the movie and slowly your body temperature rose to normal, empty mug of cocoa resting on the coffee table. Halfway through the movie, Clint came waltzing in to the room with something in his hands.
Pairing : Winchesters x Sister!reader Word count : 979 Author : Mel Request : Anonymous- I don’t know if this is a funny idea but I feel like a body swap fic is always good?
Body swap curses. Man did you hate body swap curses. Especially when you woke up in a room that wasn’t yours. “Shit..” You mumbled. “Why am I in Dean’s room?” You looked around. “Dean!?” You started to sit up, but your head was pounding. “What the hell.” Swinging your legs out of bed, everything felt wrong. Looking down, you were in just black boxer briefs. You slowly pulled out the waist band and looked in. “No..” Getting up, you looked in the mirror. “Aw crap.”
Waking up, Dean groaned, and stretched. He opened his eyes and winced. “Why does it look like a fucking my little pony exploded in here…” He ground the sleep out of his eyes and looked around. Bright colors, fluffy pillows, pictures, but also guns and knives?
Just in case you’d worried I ran out of storm pano’s here are three of my favourites since I started doing the more complex panoramas. last year when i started shooting storms I could only dream of making these pictures. first of seeing these beautiful monsters, second of showing their power and beauty. a lot of dreams.
Arriving sooner than anticipated, the group of heroes turned to the one in charge–Winston. The humble giant was quick to notice all eyes on fall on him and ushered out a reassuring laugh as the ragtag team of iconic faces beheld his soft gaze.
“I figured we could all use a break. We’ve been at this ‘world-saving’ business for a few good months straight. Your eyes are dulling and I can see that this fight is taking its toll on all of you. So,” he opened up his arms, welcoming the world around them in, “I lied. We’ve no mission here. I wanted to treat you all for serving Overwatch. Your relentless actions, courageous strength, and kind hearts have earned you a few days off.”
Tracer, the first to jump with excitement, zipped over to the big guy and gave him a hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Twirling around, she flashed away before reappearing beside DVa, Mercy, and Pharah. “Girls,” her head swiveled to the other females of the group, “it’s time we get that much needed R&R day.”
“I presume you’ve something in mind?” Pharah crossed her arms over her armored chest.
The brunette’s lips curled up into a cute smirk. All at once, the women yelled out, “SPA DAY!”
I grew up in a small town in New Jersey and attended the local public high school. It was senior year, and my friend Jack was in charge of setting up chairs for an assembly later that day. I got roped into helping him, but it wasn’t too bad because I got to skip my fifth-period math class.
We eventually ran out of chairs, and one of the janitors gave us a big ring of keys and told us to get the rest out of the basement. Ever since I was a kid, I marveled at those rings with dozens of keys jangling together. They could take you anywhere. Jack made the mistake of letting me carry the keys down to the basement. While I was walking over to a stack of chairs, my foot hooked around the leg of a folding table, and I fell flat on my stomach onto the hard concrete, knocking the wind out of me. The keys skirted across the room and disappeared into the behind the row of metal folding chairs.
“Shit!” I groaned, bringing myself to my knees and hoping I would be able to breathe correctly again soon.
“You better find the keys,” Jack warned from behind an armful of folding chairs. “I’m going to take these upstairs. I’ll be back in a minute.”
Turning on the flashlight on my phone, I crawled around on my hands and knees on the dirty floor. Nothing. With a heavy sigh, I began to move some of the chairs out of the way to search along the edge of the wall. The keys were nowhere to be found. Just when I was about to give up, I saw a hole in the floor about the size of two fists behind where a group of chairs had been.
Not wanting to stick my hand into a filthy, strange hole in my school’s basement, I set my phone on top of it and took a picture. The angle was awful, but in the corner of the frame I could make out part of the keyring, which had caught on something jutting out from one side of the hole. Begrudgingly, I stuck my hand inside and fumbled around for a little bit until my fingers wrapped around the keys. As I was bringing my hand back up, I felt a stinging pain on the side of my thumb. I quickly pulled the keys up and wiped my hand off on my jeans. Coating the keys and my hand was a thick gray mucus. I gagged and made a mental note to have Jack return the keys. I discovered that the pain I felt was from a thin, inch-long scratch running up the length of my thumb.
I went to delete the picture on my phone when I noticed a blurry object resting at the edge of the photo. It seemed to be a tiny, hand-like structure with a small palm branching off into three bony fingers capped with razor-sharp claws.
I figured I would take one more picture to prove that my eyes were playing tricks on me, but when I saw the image, it took everything I had to refrain from sprinting upstairs and going home for the day.
My phone screen displayed an image of the hole leading into a small tunnel which soon opened into a good sized room below the basement. There were no doors or windows that I could see, and as far as I could guess, the only way in or out of that room was through the hole in the floor. Hundreds of what appeared to be needles poked out from the walls and ceiling. A few reached up into the hole, which is how I must have cut my hand.
Just as I was trying to think of a place I could go to get about six tetanus shots, I noticed that the large mass on the floor covered with that gray slime was actually composed of hundreds, maybe thousands, of tiny creatures. They were the same color as the gray mucus and had two stubby arms and three spindly legs that looked more like tendrils. Each one had a wide mouth full of rows of teeth that bore an unsettling resemblance to the needles coming out of the walls.
I showed Jack when he came back down, and we grabbed more chairs than was safe to carry up a flight of stairs and hauled ass out of that basement. We showed our friends the picture, which was then circulated throughout most of the school, and rumors about the room beneath the basement ran wild in the halls.
For weeks, I was plagued with recurring nightmares about the hole in the floor. It was always the same: I would find myself in that room of the basement, having lost the keys. It played out almost exactly the same as it did in real life, except, when I reached into the hole for the keyring, my hand was yanked inside. I was laying on the concrete, shoulder-deep into the room beneath the basement, screaming as millions of needle teeth gnashed the flesh on my arm, ripping muscle and skin roughly from the bone. The nightmare was horrifying, but on the nights when it seemed the most real, I often awoke to find small needle marks on my body.
I had this dream for months, and it was really starting to get to me. I began to see more holes in various places in the school. The needles in these reached almost to the mouth of the opening, and I didn’t need to look inside to know that I would find another sea of those writhing monsters within.
Graduation couldn’t come fast enough. While I was packing for college, I found one of those holes in the wall of my closet. I covered it with a whole roll of duct tape and nailed a piece of plywood over it for good measure.
I went to college in St. Louis, and moving halfway across the country helped a lot to put my mind at ease. When I visited home during Christmas break my freshman year, the hole in my closet had been plastered shut and painted over, leading me to believe it was just a normal hole my frightened mind had convinced me was something more.
I live in St. Louis now and have been adjusting to life in the “real world” pretty well. I just got a job I really enjoy and seem to be succeeding at, and I’m planning on proposing to my girlfriend soon.
I had chalked up the holes to stress and paranoia. I’ve had several new phones since then, and I haven’t been able to find that picture again. Maybe my mind had exaggerated the whole thing. I was comfortable believing that the whole ordeal could be explained by nightmares and anxiety, but when I was walking downtown today, I passed through an alley on my way home from a restaurant. There was something peeking out from behind a dumpster.
It was a hole leaking gray mucus, big enough for me to crawl into. The hole, on the side of an abandoned building in the older part of the city, went down into the ground. Long, shiny needles peeked out from inside and shone in the moonlight.
I sprinted all the way home. Leaning on the wall to catch my breath, I felt something sharp poke into my back. To my horror, I found a small hole beginning to form on the wall of my kitchen.
So I found your blog quite some time ago and I just love Flammy!
He’s so cute!
So I drew this picture of him, I know it may sick but there’s so only so much you can do with crayons
But here ya go! I hope you like it!
(Had to buy a new pack of crayons cause halfway through coloring the background I ran out of black crayon :P)