Jealous tropes are MY JAM. I know it’s supposed to be an unattractive trait but damn, it’s awesome. I love me some jealousy.
Even before you and Jesse had started dating you knew he was the jealous type. But his jealousy was as humorous as it was sweet; he didn’t get violent or even vocal about it–he only pouted like a child. Sometimes handsy as well, but loving. The first time you noticed he was jealous was when you were at the shooting range and Jack had made a correction in your posture, placing his arm around you to show you a better shooting technique. Jesse had been watching you from afar after you banished him for turning a serious shooting session into playtime, but you could still see his shoulders stiffen when Jack stepped closer. He didn’t relax after Jack left, and instead leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, and mouth downturned despite the cigar that hung from it.
So it was no surprise to you when you were chatting with a new recruit in the records office when you felt two hands come around your waist and pull you close.
“Hello, darlin’,” Jesse said, placing a kiss on your neck. The recruit you’d been talking to wasn’t perturbed by Jesse’s sudden appearance, and when you pretended as if Jesse wasn’t there they only furrowed their brow. You shot the recruit a glare, silently telling him to ignore you boyfriend exactly as you were doing.
“Darlin?” Jesse asked when you didn’t respond. You continued your conversation, discussing local dining options for the recruit to take his boyfriend. You felt Jesse’s grip tighten around your waist, trying to get your attention. His chin rested on your shoulder, his rim of his hat brushing against the top of your head. His fingers drummed along your sides, playing with the hem of your shirt in an attempt to irk you enough to talk to him.
Still, you had far too much fun making him miserable. He let out a long sigh, his breath making your neck and cheek hot. With another heavy huff he stuck out his right hand to the recruit and said, “Afternoon, the name’s McCree.”
Before the recruit could accept the handshake you swatted Jesse’s wrist, making him pull back with a hiss. Even the recruit had to raise their eyebrows at that. Just as you were about to part ways you felt a thumb and index finger pinch hard on your bum, eliciting a squeak from your throat. You tried to jump forward but Jesse’s other arm kept you in place, his hand now flat on your ass.
“Jesse!” you shouted. As you twisted your neck to face him the recruit dashed off, already seeing how red your face had gotten; they probably didn’t want to stay to find out if it was anger or embarrassment.
“Well you weren’t paying me any attention, sugar,” Jesse said. You struggled to get out of his grip but all you could do was face him, allowing him to keep you flush against his chest.
“Well are you happy now?” you questioned. “I’m gonna kill you, is that enough attention?”
Leaning close, his nose bumped yours, his lips still in a grin. He purred, “Do I look like an unhappy man?”
For someone so quiet and reserved, nobody expected Hanzo to be as possessive of you as he was. It wasn’t obvious to some, but Genji saw the way his brother stared daggers at anyone that came into your vicinity. It was so subtle, in fact, that you didn’t notice until McCree had placed his hand just a little too low on your back for Hanzo’s liking. He was lucky it was his robotic arm, because you were certain Hanzo’s grip was crushing as he carefully removed it from your lower back.
Of course, you’d given him hell for doing it. In front of McCree no less. To a certain degree it was sweet that Hanzo was protective of you but he couldn’t go around hurting people when they touched you, especially if it was your friend and a member of the team. He gave little resistance, and you could see in his eyes that he knew what he was doing was wrong. After that it didn’t help that McCree would sometimes go out of his way to wrap his arms around you, all the while sending a smirk to the archer. Once you kneed him in the crotch for getting a little too happy at Hanzo’s discomfort he stopped, and Hanzo gave a rare grin.
One evening though, as you sat on your balcony with small cups of tea, you saw a small twitch in Hanzo’s lips as you told him about a bad pickup line from a cashier. You questioned, “Why do you get so jealous?”
He must not have been expecting the question because you saw his adam’s apple bob as he gulped. His face wasn’t as hard to read as most thought, and you saw as he went through the initial panic from your question to worry with a creased brow, to accepting it with a sigh. “Do you not get jealous?”
You thought a moment, wondering if you did. Hanzo didn’t exactly get hit on in public, but you saw the looks some would give him as he walked by. He was an attractive man, you accepted that he turned heads. You replied, “Don’t change the subject. I don’t go around trying to break arms if you shake hands with someone.”
A small grunt came from Hanzo’s throat as he sipped his tea.
You prodded, “Well?”
“I have not broken any bones,” he finally admitted.
“You nearly took McCree’s arm off and started hitting him with it,” you stated with a grin.
Seeing your smile made the tension in Hanzo’s shoulders relax, his teacup clinking as it touched against the glass table. “That American is too handsy.”
“He only does it to get a rise out of you.”
Another grunt with pursed lips. His eyes fell on his cup as he twisted it back and forth between his middle finger and thumb. You waited, a little impatient, for his answer while he thought. Finally, he told you, “You are important to me, I do not want to lose you.”
Your chair screeched against the stone balcony as you dragged it next to Hanzo. You pressed the arm right against his chair and linked your elbow with his. With a sigh you rested your head on his shoulder. He continued to twirl his cup.
“Why would you lose me?” you asked.
“I have done many things in my life,” he replied, “things that make me question if I am worthy of you.”
You flinched up, facing him. He refused to look at you, and kept his eyes on his teacup. “You don’t think you’re worthy of me?”
His silence was answer enough.
Taking one hand you pressed it against his cheek and forced his gaze to meet yours. “Hanzo, please don’t put me on a pedestal. And don’t worry about what you’ve done making me love you any less. I love you. You have nothing to fear.”
Stretching your neck up your lips met his, tasting of the honey he’d put into his tea. With your forehead touching his you said, “And to answer your question, I do get jealous. I don’t like it when other people look at you sometimes.”
“What do you do then?” he asked. His knuckles stroked your cheek, his hand going to cradle the back of your neck.
“I remind myself that you and I share a bed,” you replied, “and I make sure to leave a little mark on your neck that you never notice to prove you’re mine.”
Hanzo hummed as he kissed you again. “Perhaps I should mark you tonight so that McCree does not touch you tomorrow.”
Deep in the woods of Washington stands this remarkable mausoleum which was erected by Methodist, John S. McMillin, to hold the remains of himself and his family and show what was truly important to him - family. To many, this mausoleum is known as the Afterglow Vista and as you can see, is extremely impressive and beautiful. In the centre of the open air rotunda sits a limestone table surrounded by stone chairs. These chairs act as the headstones of the graves and they contain the ashes of the McMillin family. The empty space at the table was built to represent where the McMillin son would be buried; he turned away from Methodism and is buried elsewhere. The unfinished column symbolises death breaking the column of life. Locals say that when the sun goes down on the warm summer evenings, the light shines through the trees onto the tomb and the McMillin family meet again to enjoy a ghostly dinner in the afterglow.
Prompt: Charles believes you can’t be in love with him because he lacks one thing almost every man has - legs. So when you finally realize it makes him super insecure, you set off to show him that his imperfection is indeed quite beautiful.
Set during Xmen Apocalypse - in a world where Alex Summers never really died! Yay!
These posts will teach you how to lay the foundations for Necromancy and develop the basic abilities needed. They will be released weekly for a month for a total of 4 posts. By the end of this the mage-in-training will have all the abilities they will need to begin the practice of Necromancy.
Exercise 1: Death-like stillness.
What you will need:
+ A small, coloured stone.
+ A chair.
+ A timer.
Sit in the chair facing towards the stone, back straight, feet flat to the floor and hands on your lap. Start the timer and stare at the stone. stay motionless for as long as you can, look at nothing but the stone. As soon as you move or shift your gaze, stop the timer. Your goal should be two minutes by the end of the week. Ensure you continue to practice this as your ability will lessen without practice. Try you’re far from home, practice on trees, rocks, pens and pencils to keep your ability sharp.
NOTE: DO NOT practice this in silence as it will cause you to depend on silence to focus, which is much to the mages disadvantage.
Exercise 2: Meditation.
Many methods to meditation can be found with a quick google search. Here’s my personal method:
Sit, back erect and head tilted up. Close your eyes and imagine only darkness. Hold this thought and count back from 9 to 1.
Experiment and see what works for you.
Exercise 3: Light trance.
Combine your stillness and meditative ability to induce a light trance: stay motionless and gaze at an object, take note of all it’s features. Notice your body get heavy; allow this. Slowly your body will get heavier and heavier and your eyelids will fall. Your mind will drift off and you will be free of your thoughts. This is the light trance state and it is quite helpful in Necromancy.
Request/Summary: Hi! I dyed my hair bloody red recently and i was wondering if you could do an imagine for bucky where you dye your hair the same color and the whole team loves it and he is shocked and speechless and the reader worries because she thinks he doesn’t like but he actually does?
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Word count: 1.4k
A/N: Requests are open and I’m absolutely open to anything (as long as it isn’t morally wrong)! I love speaking to you guys and receiving any type of feed back so please don’t hesitate to send an ask or message (:
«MASTERLIST UPDATED IN THE BIO»
(Sorry it’s a little scratchy I’m updating this from my phone and like I’m really not that familiar with most codes!!)
Sams voice echoed throughout the kitchen, alerting everyone as their eyes shifted towards you. Everyone had their sights set on you, a small smile crept on your face as you stood there awkwardly while they all stared at your hair. “Well?”
“Good thing I went blonde a month ago, no room for two red-heads.” Natasha set down her coffee before walking up to you and playing with your hair.
“(Y/N), I adore it. I feel like it suits you well.” Vision had floated through the kitchen island before observing it as well. A smile appeared on your face when he complimented you. “Thanks, Vis.”
“Yeah, it’s not that bad. I prefer it over you’re old color.” Steve was leaning back in a kitchen chair with the same stone-cold expression he always has. “Always appreciated Captain!”
“So, you like the new Black Widow or something?” Sams voice hit you from behind as he walked up and poured himself a cup of coffee.
“Shut it, big bird. Looks nice, (Y/N).” Tony gave you a small smile before propping himself up and sitting on the counter.
“Suits you better than Natasha.” Clint was eating a donut on a bar stool while chuckling to himself. The former red-head grabbed a banana before chucking the peel at his head. “Fuck you, Barton.”
“Bruce has a thing for red-heads, Nat. Looks like you got competition.” Clint giggled to himself again like the dork he is.
“Hey don’t bring me into this, I mean yeah I think it’s beautiful but-” Before Bruce could finish, Tony cut him off. “You’re digging yourself a grave, pal.”
You thanked them all before laughing at how childish they are.
Thor had finally entered the kitchen along with Peter and Bucky. They all were drenched in sweat, you figured they were all working out. The moment their eyes landed on your hair, they froze. Thor had practically ran up to you like a toddler being offered candy.
“Lady (Y/N)! You look more ravishingly than before! I love it.” His innocent smile made you giggle, if it weren’t for the sweat surrounding his body, you would have given him a bone crushing hug.
The super soldier had your eye, but he avoided any interaction with you what-so-ever. He poured himself a glass of milk before heading to the opposite side of the room. When he passed you, his eyes stayed down and he didn’t look at you. He continued to stare at his feet before leaning up against a wall and eavesdropping on the ongoing conversation.
“It looks good, (Y/N)!” Peters high voice strung out before he chugged a whole cup of orange juice.
“Thank you, Peter, everyone. I have to say, I didn’t know how everyone would react.” You poured yourself a glass of milk before taking a sip. In the corner of your eye you saw a shadow staring right at you. Tilting your head to the side, only to see Buckys piercing blue eyes drill a hole into you. Despite the fact that you felt like he was disinterested in you or anything to do with you, you smiled and waved before focusing back on the current discussion.
“You know, (Y/N). Last time I saw someone with hair that red, it was over 70 years ago. Her name was Dolores, come to think of it, Bucky actually had a thing for her. Ha, he blew 3 bucks just to win her a stuffed bear. You always had a thing for girls with red hair, didn’t you, Buck?” The blonde super soldier finally let his lips curve up into a smile before glancing over at his old friend.
“Yeah.” Bucky muttered under his breath before he set down his empty glass of milk and walked out of the room.
“Soft spot?” Tony’s voice ringed out with a hint of amusement, obviously enjoying the annoyed soldier.
“I didn’t think he’d mind talking about her, we’ve done it before.” The small smile soon turned into his usual frown.
“It’s not your fault, maybe he’s having his own problem? Just let him have time to think it out and he’ll be fine.” You tried to stay optimistic about the situation, if anything it wasn’t your business.
You had to admit; you always had a thing for Bucky. Even if he was cold, mysterious and quiet, he always held your attention. You were intrigued by him and with every choice he made, he left you wanting more.
Once you finished your breakfast you headed towards the gym. Bucky wasn’t a close friend of yours but with your hidden feelings for him, you decided it would be best to see if you could at least help.
You reach the gym before entering and looking around for any soul in sight. The man was sitting on a bench, drinking every drop of liquid left inside his water bottle. You slowly walked his way before standing a few feet before him. He must of knew it was you the moment the door opened because not once did he look up from the floor.
“Hey, Bucky. I know we aren’t really good friends but I was just wondering if you were ok or if anything it bothering you-”
“Yeah, we aren’t good friends. So why should I tell you what’s bothering me?”
“Well, I just-”
“You just what? Why are you don’t here trying to help me when you could be upstairs talking about your new hair color.” His voice was left emotionless except when he mentioned your hair, all you could hear in those words was sarcasm and annoyance.
“I just wanted to see if I could help. I’m sorry, I’ll get going.” A frown was plastered on your face as you felt your weight shift to the back of your heels. His eyes met with yours once again, taking in the disappointment and sadness that leaked from your facial expressions.
The moment you turned to evacuate the room, he grabbed your arm. A shiver was sent down your spine as you turned back to face the man. His gaze was back on the floor but he someone showed a sign of remorse. He didn’t mean to hurt you; especially when he was trying to save you. He liked you a lot, and nobody knew it. Why? Because he knew that he would never be good enough for you. His mind was fried and he didn’t know how he could love someone when he can’t even love himself.
“I’m sorry.” His hand still held onto yours. This was the first time Bucky had shown you any type of guilt, it was a sign that he was trusting you more.
“For what?” A smile crept onto your face, you couldn’t help it, the man does that to you.
“Taking my anger out on you. I shouldn’t have. I’m just not in the best mood and I’m actually really confused because why are you smiling?” He looked at your (Y/E/C) eyes while squinting his in uncertainty.
“I know you weren’t in a good mood, hence why I was trying to help you, dummy. Also, I’m smiling because you’re going to let me help you, right?” He slowly nodded his head before looking at your hands and tightening his grip.
“I just… it’s hard adjusting to this life when I’m from a difference time period. I try to forget about it but somehow Steve always finds a way to bring it back.”
“He’s just trying to enjoy the memories. You can’t do anything about it, so either you can enjoy the memories with him or allow them to torture you. It’s your choice, not Steve’s.”
His blue eyes met with yours, neither of you broke eye contact. In a quick movement, he stood up and wrapped his arms around your waist and pulling you into his chest. You didn’t hesitate to wrap your arms around him and embrace his hug, and after what felt like a century, he pulled away. You knew he’d pull away eventually because you wouldn’t. Growing up your mother always told you ‘Never let go of a hug first; you never know how much of a hug the other person needs.’ and so you lived by it.
“You know what? You’re right, doll.”
“I know I am.” He smiled at you for the first time in many days. His once dark blue eyes full of sadness had turned into a bright blue as the happiness spread across his face. “Steve was also right.”
Jon never truly belonged to her, but she knew that already.
Fate had cast its die a long time ago—everyone, including herself, had to live
with the outcome. At least she had her babe; at least she had her home. Sansa
re-evaluates the state of marriage after brushing too close with death, but
she’s not the only one whose views have changed [Rated
M, post-series; deals with events from S7 and leaks from S8].
Sansa went over the letter she had written. It was
succinct, penned in that commanding tone she mastered a long time ago, save for
the last few remarks that wished the recipient happiness and prosperity—that had been with the personal flair of
one Sansa Stark, rather than the Lady of Winterfell. She could tell that
Maester Payton didn’t approve by his frown, but she expected nothing less from
a student of the Citadel; on the other hand, she suspected that Samwell Tarly
would have approved wholeheartedly, had he
been her maester. When it came to expressing her own disapproval, she had
gone easy, superfluous as it was; considering the inheritance that Alys
Karstark possessed, Sansa was sure that the noblewoman would have made a better
match with someone other than the man she claimed to have fallen in love with,
but if there was anyone who knew the strange workings of the heart, it was Sansa.
Westminster Abbey’s new video about the Coronation Chair, last used on this day 64 years ago. Watch it now for CoronationDay.
Twenty-six monarchs, including Her Majesty The Queen on 2nd June 1953, have been crowned in the Coronation Chair in Westminster Abbey.
The chair which was made about 1300, is the oldest piece of furniture in the UK still used for its original purpose.
In this video, step inside St George’s Chapel in Westminster Abbey where the chair is on public display. View the chair up close in detail and an artist’s impression of how it would have originally looked before centuries of wear and tear took their toll.
Fascinating history with impressive 🎶 from Handel. You may need to turn down the volume.
From Westminster Abbey via YouTube.
The next few days I spent alone for the most part. Junmyeon and the others were trying to figure out how the location for the “casino” got leaked to the police; were they being watched…or did someone give up the location. Even when someone did come to the penthouse, I was all but ignored.
It was fine really, I was used to being invisible to the people around me and besides me having to run from cops, most of what was going on really didn’t concern me.