chunk glass

Dragon Drawing Prompts!

Dragons!! Here’s a whole bunch of dragon drawing prompts for you! Have followers send them in, do a few at random, or make a challenge out of them! You can even write stories based off of them! Just have fun using these to fight your creativity block!

Swamp Dragons

  • A big, crocodile-like dragon hiding under the water and snatching down prey that gets too close
  • A dragon that burps up swamp gas to deter humans from its home
  • A dragon that eats even the biggest of snakes in a swamp
  • A dragon whose horns resemble the swamp’s plants

Cave Dragons

  • A cave dragon colony that lives like ants in an old mine, preventing miners from taking any more minerals
  • A cave dragon napping with some bats during the day time
  • A big dragon that lives deep in a cave, with tons of raw precious metals in its hoard

Forest Dragons

  • Forest dragons burrowing and making tunnels that intertwine between the roots of old trees
  • Small forest dragons climbing trees like squirrels and jumping from treetop to treetop
  • Rainforest dragons with vivid colorations, hiding perfectly in their tropical habitat
  • Rainforest dragons with huge, butterfly like wings
  • Tiny dragons living in the hollows of trees, hoarding anything shiny, even some shiny acorns

Arctic/Antarctic Dragons

  • A thick-furred dragon roaring at people because it isn’t familiar with them being near its habitat
  • A dragon that cannot fly, but instead swims, just like a penguin
  • A dragon that swims under the ice and then crashes through the ice to make prey fall into the crack

Mountain Dragons

  • Dragons living in hot springs beside a volcano, incubating their eggs in the warm water
  • Mountain climbers reaching the top of a mountain and being scared away by a dragon
  • A dragon dozing off outside and waking up covered in mountain top snow

Field Dragons

  • A large-winged dragon gliding above a field and casting a huge shadow
  • A deer-like dragon running past humans so quickly that their hats fly off
  • A small, hawk-like dragon dive-bombing prey

Underwater Dragons

  • A dragon living in an underwater cavern with an air pocket
  • A dragon living in a kelp forest, blending in with the kelp
  • Dragons that travel in pods and resemble orca whales
  • A dragon that flings itself out of the water and glides above it, like a flying fish

Desert Dragons

  • Dragons stealing treasure from long-buried monuments in the sand
  • A dragon breathing fire so hot it creates chunks of glass, which the dragon makes its nest out of
  • A dragon accidentally stepping on a cactus, and other dragons try to pry the cactus out of the other’s foot
  • Dragons so heavy and callous that even when a huge sandstorm passes, they are unaffected

Urban Dragons

  • Dragons living in old subway tunnels and collecting loose change they find on the ground
  • Dragons living in the sewer systems of big cities, only seen by those needing to clean the sewers out
  • A small dragon living near a plaza, swiping jewelry right off of unsuspecting pedestrians
  • A dragon living near a power plant and being curious about the people working there
  • Neighborhood dragons that are very used to being around people and will even let some people pet them
Trash witch tips GO

Presented in no particular order with very few rules. These are suggestions and ideas! There is no “school” of trash witchcraft and you can combine it with all sorts of other workings and traditions. Trash witchcraft is all about having a good time and changing the very nature of reality with something you picked up on the way to the bus stop.

What is “trash?” Well, it’s all relative, isn’t it? I think of trash as “stuff someone is no longer using that’s been left somewhere I can get to it.” My trash witchcraft focuses on getting use out of items people thought were useless, and making beautiful things out of what’s been written off as refuse. I’ve also found trash contains things that are unique to it - energies and thoughts from previous possessors, energies of being reused and recycled, energies of BEING trash, entropy, death, life, perseverance, marginalization, chaos, and a strange kind of peaceful order. Just depends on what you find!

Getting Trash

  • Recycle! Save your drink cups and straws and even straw papers.
  • Some low-income hipster/artist areas have “free” boxes on the corner that you can pick amazing stuff out of
  • Thrift stores are great places to buy trash for cheap! It’s usually some pretty good trash, too.
  • Library free book piles, they get a lot of useless donations. Books are sacred on some levels but do not be afraid to rip apart a book on how to use 2005 Microsoft Encarta and turn it into a Sharpie Grimoire. You’re giving it more life than it ever had.
  • You’re gonna look at the ground a lot. You’re gonna look at soda can tabs in new ways.
  • Loose/broken cassette tape used to be common on roadsides but not anymore; you can usually get tapes for something like $1 apiece at a thrift store if you don’t want to wait. The tape inside is useful for all sorts of things, same with VHS tapes!
  • Discarded roadside CDs tho.
  • Rocks aren’t trash but you’ll start finding them if you look at the ground long enough! Even some stuff that’s kinda valuable. Get a rockhounding book and start finding even more treasure!
  • Asphalt and other manmade rock chunks are abundant because roads and sidewalks are constantly being repaired.
  • Near construction you may even find rebar, screws, etc.
  • Dirt is useful. Different kinds of dirt is useful different ways.
  • All sorts of interesting weird bits of metal and glass and plastic!
  • Discarded lighters, some of which still work!
  • Free matchbooks in bars, plus lemons and nuts and cocktail picks.
  • B O T T L E S
  • You will likely find some money even if it’s a bit of change. Spend it or save it for spell stuff (or just because you’re wise).
  • Animal bits are everywhere really.
  • U-Pick/Pick-n-Save/U-Pull-It type car lots will let you go into their broken down/wreckt car lot and pull anything off of vehicles for flat fees and it’s quite cheap.
  • Craigslist: for people who want to take other people’s junk away for them.
  • Freecycle-type trade groups and dumpster diver groups are good places to start on both practices, give em a google.
  • Watch the animals around and see if they lead you to something interesting.

What it’s useful for

  • Anything that has been run over or left on a road long enough has been charged with the energies of the roads. The energy might change depending on the type of road, a slow rural dirt lane will have a different feel than busy urban blacktop.
  • Even empty cups are useful for a jar replacement, especially temporary spells.
  • Straws can be used to build lattices, mock-structures (build a house out of straws and blow it down!), can even be used as temp wands.
  • Straw papers can be braided or written on and then wrapped around things for a binding spell or wish spell. For instance write a wish, wrap the straw paper around the straw, blow through it to charge.
  • Write a spell on the paper of a wrapped straw, then tear open one end and blow through the straw to launch the paper and spell!
  • A cocktail sword is now your tiny ritual knife. Rejoice.
  • Logo/corporate magic: you can use discarded items with a company’s logo with it to draw upon that company for help or even attack it. Use the money attached to the Starbucks brand to make a Starbucks cup the focus of a money jar spell, etc. Or just curse Blockbuster. Oh wait, too late.
  • Glass that changes the light (curved, warped etc) can be used for magnification or focus spells. Colors of glass can add certain aspects depending on how you associate colors. Green is commonly associated with money; there’s lots of green glass out there since it’s a common drink bottle color!
  • All your tiny metal/glass/concrete bits are great jingles for a spell jar that should be shaken, or even a jar bell just for making noise.
  • Flatter lighter shiny clinky bits can be tied up on a frame as a wind chime, gathering wind energy or just being decorative. Add string/knotwork if you want! Great to do with found silverware.
  • A chunk of a place helps call up the presence of that place or draw on the energy of that place or influence that place. This applies to dirt, rocks, roads, concrete, bricks, asphalt, etc. Get macro (a whole city) or micro (this corner of the street) but either way, tap that!
  • Pendant materials abound if you look in the right places, especially if you know how to wire-wrap a weird chunk of chrome.
  • Broken window glass to shatter illusions, break defenses, and expose lies.
  • Broken mirror for scrying mirrors or defensive traps.
  • The right rocks can be used to draw on concrete in lieu of chalk, do a scratch test.
  • Mark the corners of your neighborhood or yard with innocuous, tiny bits of rocks and other things that aren’t likely to be picked up. Even just arbitrarily moving bits of stuff around helps increase your sovereignty over a location. Be aware of who else might control the area though!
  • Trash is useful for shadow work. Find a trash object that you can meditate on or use for an energy focus. A lot of feelings can resonate with trash - the feeling of BEING trash, being discarded or used, being broken. These can be focused on for catharsis or for calm. Walk through the life of this trash item, empathize with its journey, see where its journey parallels yours. Give it a new home if you’ve found some part of yourself you’re reclaiming (a lot of “trash” is actually worth keeping and was mistakenly devalued!); if you’ve found parts of yourself to let go and move on from then throw them away with the object.
  • This can also be a focus for luck or serendipity workings - do a working to find something precious, then do a trash hunt and see what comes up!

Collect safely!

  • Broken glass and sharp metal bits ABOUND in the places where the best trash is. So you’ll want good gloves and I suggest keeping your tetanus shot up to date.
  • Depending on what you’re doing, eyewear may be good too, and I’d wear tough jeans and a shirt you won’t mind getting snagged.
  • Watch where you hunt trash. Some other people may be trying to get returnable bottles or metal for money; I suggest just giving them right of way.
  • People and animals are unpredictable so only work with those you trust and know the rules for if you’re out of your element.
  • Sometimes places with interesting trash are already occupied by belligerent spirit entities who are keeping that as their hoard. Only approach if you’re willing to bargain fairly or otherwise if you’re willing to fight the entity. (I suggest bargaining or leaving. Remember, it’s just trash.)
  • Look, if you pick anything up that’s squishy keep some hand sanitizer on you and some resealable bags.
  • Actually resealable bags are a good idea anyway, stay organized! Label with date/place if you like to draw on specific associations.
  • Add sigils or cleaning/sealing spells to your bags to keep newly-collected materials from causing spiritual/magical problems before you have a chance to take them home and deal with them. If you have an on-the-go cleanse spell then that’s important to use, but sometimes an extra layer helps for really gunky stuff, and trash tends to have a history attached to it.
  • Animal parts - please do some research before you collect so you know how to safely do it and preserve things without violating the Migratory Bird Act and other local laws. There are a lot of “vulture culture” people on tumblr alone, see if you can talk to someone who works with animal spirits so you’ll know how to respectfully harvest materials.
  • If it looks too nasty to touch or reach for or get to, let it go. It’s just trash.
  • Remember that rooting through other people’s trash that’s part of their property is technically crime and a theft. Be aware of when you are trespassing.

Add some stuff! Be trashy with me!

Misconceptions-Chapter 4

Pairings: Bucky x Reader, Natasha x Bucky, Platonic Tony x reader.

Warnings: Violence. Badly written violence. Angst, the tiniest amount of fluff in the world, THE BABY IS HERE!! The lullaby is in Afrikaans, my ma used to sing it to my sisters. 

Translation for the lullaby:

Monday’s child is fair of face,
Tuesday’s child is full of grace,
Wednesday’s child is full of woe,
Thursday’s child has far to go,
Friday’s child is loving and giving,
Saturday’s child works hard for his living,
& the child that is born on the Sabbath day
Is bonny and blithe, and good and gay.

Guys i’m not sure about this chapter. But it needed to happen. Happy reading!

(Also i know Adriana is six weeks old, and this lil’ cutie is at least 4, but i could not for the life of me find what i was looking for, and this pic was the closest i got)


 “Buck” you call out, walking into the living room, “Stevie’s looking for you, you missed training” you look up from your phone, Nat’s holding Bucky’s hand looking guilty as sin, Bucky looks like it physically hurts to look away from her “Uh guys?’ suspicion clouding your tone, “Everything alright in here?” “yeah kitty cat, Nat was jus’ helpin a fella out, didn’ know what ta get my best girl for her birthday” Buck replies. Your eyes are fixed on Natasha, she never could hide anything from you “Nat?” you venture “Nat what’s going on?” “Buck’s a clueless procrastinator, I was helping him pick out something special sestra” she’s lying. You know she is. Your traitorous heart latches on to the lie like you need it to breath “Natalia” you warn her “Don’t lie to me” “I wouldn’t (y/n), honestly I don’t know what’s going on with you lately, but stop projecting onto me” She storms past you, Bucky following close behind her. Shit.

 6 months later 

 You curse as you unsuccessfully try and tie your shoes, your spectacularly huge baby bump impeding the most mundane of tasks, you didn’t know what you were expecting, you’re carrying the child of a genetically enhanced giant with fabulous hair, your half expecting the baby to come out walking if you’re completely honest with yourself. You’re alone, by choice, you have no one to blame for your current predicament but yourself. Tony tries, he calls twice a week if he can, sometimes he doesn’t call at all, your melancholy has been slowly suffocating you, your hair has lost its shine, your eyes are dull, voice scratchy from disuse, “I’m going insane” you muse “This baby is fixing to pop any day now and I’ve lost my ever loving mind” you feel the power leaking out of you, your control slipping as you slip deeper into your panic, objects are hovering and vibrating in mid-air, the windows of your 4th floor apartment cracking as you desperately fight for some semblance of control, you laugh, an inhuman sound that shatters the mirror in front of you, chunks of glass hovering a few feet from the floor, the power a tangible thing that you can see in front of you, wrapping around you like a deadly vice clawing at the remnants of your sanity. No no please no, CONTROL IT. You’re screaming at yourself, windows shattering and furniture splintering with the weight of your emotion, grasping onto the first image that flies into your head, Bucky smiling at you, the real no holds barred smile he reserves for the truly fortunate, memories replaying in your mind of happier times, Natasha laughing at a prank Sam pulled, Steve blushing as you recount a particular interesting dalliance, Sam rugby tackling you at the fourth of July football game, Tony soothing you after another failed relationship. Family. My family. Your heart beat calms, syncing with the beat of the babies, a deep steady rhythm that has you coming back to yourself gasping and spluttering as you try and balance your emotions and your power, ignoring the ache that shoots through your chest when you think of his face, his laugh, his smile. “no” you chastise yourself ‘it’s not just you anymore (y/n), this baby needs you, she only has you, pull your shit together kitty. Woman the fuck up.” Decision made you abandon the sneakers and opt for a pair of ballet flats instead.

4 days later you give birth to a beautiful baby girl, with a full head of raven black hair and the greenest eyes you have ever seen. It physically hurts to look at this perfect mixture of you and Bucky and your heart breaks all over again, reliving the pain of the horrible words and your hasty departure on a loop in your head. That is until she looks at you, unfathomable devotion to this tiny person flares in your chest, and you know. You know, that no matter how deeply broken you are, you would give anything for her, withstand any torture, kill a thousand men if it would make her happy. She will never know, you promise yourself, she will never know pain. 

 You name her Adriana. You sign Barnes as her last name. you can’t figure out what compelled you to do so.  You have accepted you are never going to see James again.

6 weeks later: “Shh Ari baby, mamochka is just warming up your bottle” you try to quiet the crying child in your arms, singing softly “Maandag se kindjie is wonderskoon, in dinsdag se kindjie sal grasie woon, woensdag se kindjie is altyd bly,donderdag se kindjie sal alles kry, vrydag se kindjie is lief dog sterk, saterdag se kindjie sal altyd werk,en n kindjie gebore op sabbatdag is vol wysheid of hy werk of lag.” She gurgles happily “ssh Adriana” you whisper. Stretching out your senses you scan the building, too many people, 16 altogether, armed. Shit. Grabbing your phone, you shoot off a quick text and strap Ari to your chest in a baby carrier, “You gotta keep quiet for me Ari, Mama’s gotta kick butt and she’s a bit outta practice” Adriana sobers instantly, staring at you with her wide green eyes, you know she understands you, you can feel her power. “Alright baby” you say, grabbing the dual katana’s off the fireplace, sticking the gun hidden underneath the hearth into the front of your pants “this aint going to be pleasant.” You shove the throwing knives into your boots, you can feel your attackers’ minds, like a hive, swarming and busy, one coherent thought between them: take them alive.

Nope, not happening, you think. “Alright bitches, bring it” you yell as the first agent crashes through the window, he barrel rolls into a crouching position aiming a taser right where Ari is strapped to your chest. “Not my daughter you bitch” you scream, gracefully swinging the katana, severing his neck. 3 more enter through the door, grabbing the glock from the front of your jeans you take them out in rapid succession. Racing out the door way you head for the stairs when you’re roughly yanked backed, roots of your hair smarting at the force, neck straining with the pressure, you elbow your assailant in the solar plexus, driving a hard kick into his knee, breaking the kneecap, he grunts as he falls. You knee him in the face for good measure, tugging the knives out of your boots and expertly throwing them at the two agents racing up the stairs. You catch one in the throat and the other in the eye. This isn’t working, there’s too many, they will out man me eventually, you’re two stories up, there’s a lull in the fight oh god this is going to hurt, you send out your mind to find the remaining agents, gently prodding into their consciousness, they can’t detect you, not yet, not if this is going to work, you wait until they get closer, reeling them in slowly, and with one final push you channel everything you’ve got into their heads liquefying their brains. You fall to your knees, gritting your teeth against the exhaustion. Need to get up, need to move. MOVE. You limp your way to the exit, cradling Ari against your chest avoiding the stares of passers-by, getting into the car waiting for you, you bark out “Stark tower. Now” 

 15 minutes later you’re stomping into the Avengers tower screeching “ANTHONY FUCKING STARK! HOW THE FUCK DID HYDRA FIND ME” Only to come face to face with the man you’ve been avoiding for 8 months. You pale, Ari making distressed noises against your chest, Bucky’s eyes flicker to her and back to you, shock apparent on his face. “Well shit” you breath.

Tags: You guys are all perfect and i love you. OK? if you arent getting tagged please let me know so i can fix it lovelies.

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

Heart-Shaped Sucker


Words:  6758 (holy crap)

Excerpt:  He pulls the stick out from between his teeth, and Phil then realizes that he had been sucking on a lollipop, red and heart-shaped. Dan’s mouth moves as he speaks, his lips wet and shiny with the effects of the sucker he’d slid against them temptingly, and when he places it back in his mouth so slowly, Phil’s stomach feels like it’s in knots.

Warnings: smut!!!! (blowjobs, pillow grinding), food mentions, swearing, nothing too bad just know there’s a lot of sexual themes

SEQUEL: Part Two

Part Three

Check out the gr8 art for this story!!: here

Keep reading

Certain As The Sun: Part 5

FINALLY!!! IT IS HERE!!! I hope you all enjoy, please don’t hesitate to tell me what you think, what you’d like to see more of, your predictions for what’s coming up(it’s some crazy stuff, let me tell you). Thanks for all your love and support! 

Hope you enjoy!


“You never did tell me how, exactly, you made it all the way here from the Spring Court without anyone noticing your absence.” I wasn’t sure how much time had passed since Feyre had first arrived, and as foolish as it sounded I didn’t really care despite all the potential dangers. All I knew was that she was here beside me, with my head resting in the curve of her neck, our fingers intertwined beneath the sheets, the warmth of her body pressed against mine.

She sighed, and in it I heard all the pent-up exhaustion that had been building up inside her these past eight months. “Well,” she began quietly, “it involved a lot of winnowing, running, flying—”

Flying?” I asked incredulously. “You flew here?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Well, Feyre darling, I must say that I’m quite proud of you. Especially considering your assumed lack of training since you’ve been with Tamlin.” I knew damn well that Tamlin would never allow Feyre to train. He hadn’t let her before, so why would he now especially being well aware of what she’s capable of?

It was silent for a few moments and had I not known any better I would have thought she had gone back to sleep. I knew she must be exhausted from her travels and couldn’t help but imagine Feyre, great Illyrian wings protruding from her back, soaring across the courts, her body like a whisper of darkness in the wind. She never ceased to amaze me with her endless strength and courage…my mate. That thought alone had me grinning again.

“Lucien knows.” The two words were like a chokehold. “He was suspicious from the moment I stepped foot in the Spring Court, but he’s certain now. He knows you and I are mates, that I’m pretending to love Tamlin.”

My immediate reaction was to find Lucien—whom was now an extreme threat—and eradicate him. I forced myself to calm, put my instincts on a leash.“Due to my knowledge of Tamlin’s lapdog still existing, you being here beside me, and…well, I’m assuming Tamlin doesn’t know. What did you do to keep him from yapping?”

“I threatened to hang him upside down by his balls before chopping them off and offering them as dinner to the beasts that prowl about outside.”

“So, you threatened him with Elain?”

A small smile. “How’d you know?”

“Honestly, being strung up by the balls sounds incredibly less painful when compared to being threatened with your mate.” Feyre chuckled, turning so that she was now facing me. “The mating bond is so strong that even before it’s been accepted, the two Fae feel an overwhelming sense to ensure the other’s safety. Lucien, especially, will feel as if he’d do almost anything to set eyes on her again. If their bond is ever sealed, however, there will be nearly nothing that can separate them. And for two mates to be separated…It can slowly drive them mad, especially the male.”

Feyre’s gaze flitted away from mine. I hadn’t said what I’d said to hurt or discourage her, but it was a fact. Being separated from her for this long was a huge show of restraint from me, especially with her being in Tamlin’s fondling hands. I knew our separation was taking a toll on her as well; Though she didn’t appear tired or weak, she had…dimmed since she had first accepted the mating bond.

One moment she was lying beside me, the next I had my back resting against the pillows and headboard, her body on top of mine, legs straddling my waist. When her gaze met mine, hazel eyes burned like molten amber.

“I want to try something with you,” I said quietly. The sweet scent of her arousal filled my nostrils, filled the room and I was suddenly, painfully aware of her nakedness, of how close she was. “If you don’t stop looking at me like that, Feyre, I’m not sure I’ll be able to restrain myself from fucking you again.”

Her eyes flickered. “And what if that’s exactly what I want?”

“Then I’ll fuck you, gladly. Just know that Tamlin has a very small chance of you ever returning if I do.” She only gave me a cruel, wicked smile.

“What is it you wanted to try?”

“I have heard that once two Fae are mated, there are things they can do that other Fae cannot. I’ve never seen it, or experienced it myself, obviously, but I’m curious.” I took both of her hands in mine. “Give me one of your hands, place the other on my chest and I’ll do the same.” She did so.

“Now what?”

“Now let down your mental shield.” A soothing calm seemed to fill the room as I felt Feyre fully open herself to me. “And keep your eyes on mine,” I whispered.

As soon as she did, a sensation like rose petals whispering kisses along my skin came over me, my body no longer my own. I saw myself, hair disheveled from Feyre’s fingers running themselves through it, eyes alight with wonder like diamonds in a black, silken sky. It took me a moment to realize that I was seeing myself through Feyre’s eyes as if I had jumped into her body and was now able to see and feel everything she saw and felt, my own senses heightened beyond anything normal Fae ones were.

I watched myself reach out and gently run a hand down her side. My eyes widened further, hand jerking back at the unfamiliar feeling of her skin. I had thought I knew Feyre’s body inside and out, but it was now that I realized I knew about as much about her body as Cassian knew about women in general.

In this new body that was mine and yet not, everything about Feyre felt nearly entirely different; I ran my hands through her silken hair, caressed the underside of her breasts, indulging in how our scents twined together, forging something that was dark and light and new.

“Rhysand.” Even the sound of her voice startled me. Feyre’s voice reminded me of the first time I’d looked into her eyes, of when I was just a boy, watching from the window as my mother took to the skies, black wings merging with the night. It didn’t look like she was flying so much as soaring— like she didn’t need the wings at all because the wind answered her every beck and call. Feyre’s voice sounded like starlight, made me feel the same way I had when she’d first smiled at me.

And then I thought of fire, of summoning it to my hand and when I looked down there it was… as if it had materialized out of my dreams. Feyre’s eyes were wide, staring at the fire that should have been impossible. I didn’t have these powers, powers that stemmed from the Autumn Court, but Feyre…

With less than half a thought I extinguished the fire and replaced it with water. I played with it, making it freeze and then melt, shaping and molding it into a butterfly, a flower, a star, before hurling it at the wall.

The look in my mate’s eyes had changed, wide no longer with wonder and shock, but another, deeper emotion.


I was standing in a room, an easel before me, paintbrush in hand. Violet eyes , painted in my likeness, stared back at me. It was just as my hand lifted to paint another stroke of midnight black that I heard a loud crash coming from somewhere down the hallway.

I set down my materials and rushed out of the room, down an unfamiliar hallway, and stopped once I made it to a closed door. I hesitated for a moment, contemplating if it was truly safe to enter the room before I finally pushed the door open.

Upon stepping inside I found what looked to be like a study. The room was a complete and utter mess, table upturned, small pieces and chunks of glass littered about the floor. And in the midst of the mess stood a man…Tamlin.

It was then that I realized I was in the Spring Court, reliving one of Feyre’s memories.

He turned, hearing my arrival. I gasped softly, for once my emotions being genuine as I was truly shocked at the wreck around me. Tamlin’s eyes were alarmingly cold, talons sharp as a well-kept blade visible even from where I stood.

“Tamlin…” I trailed off, not sure what to say.

“Get out, Feyre,” he growled, but I ignored him, instead choosing to slowly advance towards him. Tamlin roared, talons ripping at the curtains. Another glass object sailed past my head and crashed into the wall, shattering into a thousand pieces. I flinched, fear overtaking my heart and causing it to beat out a wild, shuddering rhythm in my chest. “Get. Out.” He stepped closer, close enough for me to breathe his scent: fresh soil and warm winds and petals—but there was something off. Something…different.

A scent, distinctly female, was intertwined with his.

“Has…Has someone visited? Is something wrong?” I knew I had to tread carefully so as to not set him off again. Tamlin clearly was not in his right mind.

He shook his head. “No. No one has been to the Spring Court in days. In fact, as of right now I’m contemplating sending the courtiers and lords—everyone—home.”

Lying. He was lying to me. I knew he was. The female had been here, and recently. Unless it had been a courtier, however, the scent was not one I recognized.

“Leave me, Feyre.” I placed a tentative hand on his shoulder but said nothing more as I exited his study.

One memory ended, another began. This one more recent than the last.

I was hiding behind a wall in what looked and smelled like the kitchens. Feyre was wearing the same dress she had when she’d first arrived and it didn’t take much to put together what I was watching: Feyre’s escape.

“—and High Lord Tamlin believes that all the planning will be done a few weeks, perhaps even a month ahead of schedule. Lady Feyre had been doing so well with it, and she seems to be just as excited as he is, why wait?” There were two voices, female. Most likely cooks.

The second voice let out a thoughtful hum. “Well if you ask me, he’s way too good for her. I mean, did you hear what she did Under the Mountain? Killed two, nearly three Fae in cold blood and didn’t look back. Didn’t regret it one bit. I know she did it for Tamlin and the Faerie Realm and everything, but I just don’t know how I feel about a murderer being a Lady. And Lady of the Spring Court, no less.”

Had I been in my own body, I would have torn the second woman’s throat out with my bare hands.

The first cook chuckled. “And just who do you suggest to take her place? You?”

I could practically see the second cook’s smile as she said, “Why not? I think I’d make a damn good Lady. Jacinda, Lady of the Spring Court. I think it has quite a nice ring to it, actually.” There was a slight pause. “Not to mention I’d give anything to know what Tamlin is like behind closed doors. I’ve heard he’s amazing in bed.”

The first cook scoffed. “And just where did you hear that from?” Another pause.

“Okay I’ll tell you, but you have to promise not to tell anyone,” said the second cook, her voice lowering. I focused my hearing and leaned closer to hear her as she said, “If Feyre finds out, Mother knows what could happen.

“There are a few of the servants who’ve said, while Feyre was away at the Night Court, they’d seen Ladies from other Courts come and visit the palace. They’d always leave before dawn, and when the servants went to clean the High Lord’s rooms, they found…evidence.”

The first cook gasped. “But what about Lady Fey—”

“Lady Feyre,” the first one interrupted, “was gone for months, Evie. Tamlin wasn’t even sure she’d ever return back here. He is a man, you know. A Fae male. They have their needs just as much as the next person.”

I was thrown out of Feyre’s memories, out of that body that we shared, out of everything and slammed back into my own. My breathing ragged and uneven, cold fury racing through my veins.

“That bastard. I’m going to kill him. I swear on the Mother and her Children that I am going to fucking kill that glorified piece of shit.”

Feyre looked alarmed. “What did you see?”

“The first memory was just him throwing a hissy fit. The second…” I paused, nearly unable to speak through the blinding rage. “I saw you escaping. I heard what those cooks said about you. What Tamlin did while you were gone.”

Her heart seemed to stop, muscles tensing. “I was…I was going to tell you. I just didn’t know how. It also didn’t seem that important.”

“Important? Feyre, the man who claims to love you was fucking other women while you were gone! Of course I’d want to know about this.”

She sighed in exasperation. “I didn’t want to tell you because I knew this was exactly how you’d react. You’d just become angry and want to—”

“Rip his throat out? Torture him until he begged for death? Set fire to his entire court and happily watch as they all burned? How about all three?”

Feyre sighed again, taking both of my hands in hers. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Feyre—” She stopped me with a look.

“It doesn’t matter, you sensitive little baby, because Tamlin doesn’t matter to me. I don’t care what he does or says. I don’t give a shit who he fucks,” she paused, raising my hands to her lips. “Because I only care what you say and do. Of your opinion. Of who you’re fucking, which I hope will always be yours truly.” She offered me a small smile.

I met her gaze straight on, searching her eyes. “You already knew.”

“I had suspected for some time now. But overhearing the cooks’ conversation confirmed it.” She shrugged. “I’m not his mate. I’m not Lady of the Spring Court either, for that matter.”

She was right. No matter what pretense Tamlin put up, Feyre and I knew the truth. If he really cared for her he wouldn’t have let her suffer Under the Mountain, wouldn’t have denied her of everything she deserved. Tamlin may come off as a confident, handsome High Lord to everyone else, but we knew what lay underneath. A coward. Liar. Traitor.

“Tell me what I am, Rhys,” Feyre purred, lips leaving soft kisses to my cheeks.

“You’re a warrior.” Kiss. “A loyal friend.” Kiss. “You are High Lady of the Night Court.” Her breath caressed the shell of my ear, the curve of my neck. “You’re my mate.”


“And,” I smiled. “You’re my wife.” Her lips lowered, whispering kisses on my shoulder. “And you’re—shit.” I felt canines nip at my earlobe.

“Well,” she chuckled. “That’s not very nice.” Feyre left a trail of kisses down my naked torso, stopping where the sheets covered my lower half. “I am your wife, Rhys. Your mate. High Lady of the Night Court, not the Spring Court. And as long as that is true, as long as I am able to proudly say that I am married and mated to the most wonderful man the gods have ever created, as long as I love him and he loves me in return…then that’s all that matters to me,” she said softly.

I searched her eyes for a moment before gently trapping her face in my hands. Kissed her brow. She leaned into my touch, wrapping her arms around me. In all my years I never thought a woman would love me as Feyre does, accept my flaws, hold me like this.

My nose buried in her hair, inhaling her scent, eyes caressing the smooth skin of her sides I whispered, “I just want to stay like this. Right here…with you.” She said nothing, only kissed my shoulder and tucked herself into me.

But the way she held me expressed more than words ever could.


Eventually, Feyre and I got dressed and headed down to the dining room.Upon arriving, Cassian, Azriel, Mor, and Amren all placed a fist to their hearts and bowed in reverence.

“Like I’ve said, the bowing really isn’t necessary,” Feyre said. There was no malice in her words, and a playful smile graced those sinful lips of hers.

“Feyre, we never thought Rhys would ever bring a girl home, let alone one that would be his mate and the first High Lady in history. So I think I speak for us all when I say that it is an honor to serve you,” Amren said.

“Thanks, Amren,” I murmured. She only winked before they all rose. We all took our seats around the table, Mor grinning wildly as she said, “I never thought I’d see that seat occupied again.” I knew the rest of them were having similar thoughts.

Her eyes shining with tears, Feyre responded, “I never thought I’d see you all again. Let alone here, sitting at this table. But we have important matters to discuss before…Before I leave again,” she swallowed, and I felt as if the words were like hands around my throat as well. “A lot has happened since the last time we all saw each other. And I think it’s imperative that I share what I’ve learned during my time in the Spring Court.” A smile lifted the corners of my lips. She sounded like a warrior, like a High Lady ready to defend her court.

Cassian only offered a cocky grin before gesturing around the table. “We’re all ears, Feyre.”

Unwavering [Part Two]

Author: smutandahalf

Characters: Reader x Stiles x Void x Pack


Word Count: 2795

A/N: Here is Part One. This is the last part of this story.

Originally posted by alevlightwood

           The first thing I notice is the cold, and how absolutely unbearable it is. But it’s more than just cold, it’s a damp chill that you can feel seeping into your bones and settling into your soul. The kind of cold that makes you crave the release of just curling into a ball and fading away.

            I open my eyes slowly, blinking a few times to shake the black haze from the edges of my vision. The room is dark, and the dull, aching, soreness of my arms draws my attention to the cold, heavy, chains binding me the metal pipe running along parallel to the ceiling. I pull at the chains slightly, and it feels like my shoulder is being torn out of its socket. I bite my lip to silence my cry of pain, quickly deciding that any attempt to free my arms will be completely futile.

            I drag in a deep breath through my nose to calm myself, but almost gag on the inescapable smell of death and decay that seems to fill the room.

            “Honestly, I’m disappointed,” A cold voice says from the corner and I flinch slightly, the sharp movement jerks the chains and a small whimper escapes my mouth before I’m able to clamp my lips shut again, “I thought you would have at least tried a little harder to get out. Especially considering how if you die you’ll just wake up right back in the same place and can try again.”

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This blue-on-blue succulent planter is a composition of crassula, senecio, echeveria, kalanchoe & an unruly mass of orostachys (commonly referred to as Japanese or Chinese Dunce Cap). I watered the pot less than five times last spring/summer. The moisture it received from rain was generally enough to keep the foliage plump. Chunks of blue aquarium glass placed near the base of the glazed, ceramic pot give the whole arrangement an icy glow.

Sandcastles (1): Tom Holland x Black Reader

Lemonade Oneshot:

Pray You Catch Me

Hold Up

Don’t Hurt Yourself


*6 Inch

Love Drought

Originally posted by greekbeys

As you two argued you felt like there was nothing left that could be done. Your happy marriage wasn’t as nearly as great as it was years ago. You had thought that by now things would’ve been fantastic but everything was crumbling. The perfect fantasies you two built together were falling a part. 

We built sandcastles that washed away



You pressed your palms firmly on the marble counter, you were in such a rage that you threw your fine chine and glasses in every direction. “I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!” You screamed twisting off your wedding ring and chucking it at him. You took a knife and stormed toward all of the pictures of you two together. You stabbed every picture of him smiling. “Y/N!” He screamed. 

He watched, fearing that you would hurt yourself but he knew how much hurt he caused so he let you get it all out. 

Dishes smashed on my counter from our last encounter
Pictures snatched out the frame
Bitch, I scratched out your name and your face

After you calmed down you slide down the wall and sobbed, clutching your stomach. “I hate you. I hate you.” You repeated. You finally got up, carefully maneuvering around the chunks of glass that now decorated the floor. You dug in your closet for the packet that you were hoping you could throw away. 

He was sitting at the table with his head in his hands. You slammed the packet down in front of him, “I already signed. You do your part and you can screw that bitch and whoever else you want all day.” You picked up you wedding ring and threw it beside the divorce papers. “I’m done.” With that you were out the door. 

He sat there in shock, staring at the legal document. He cried and cried for what felt like days but had only been hours. “No!” He yelled but you were already gone. 

I made you cry when I walked away

And your heart is broken ‘cause I walked away
Show me your scars and I won’t walk away

Part 2 of Sandcastles coming up. 

Fight (Ethan)

request: (from jennim17) Ethan and I get in a fight.

a/n: so i didn’t know if you wanted the fight resolved or not in the imagine so i left it unresolved but if you want a part 2 where they make up i can do that xxx


word count: 659

I could hear my phone ringing from the other room. 

“E, can you grab my phone.” I called out to him. He didn’t respond, instead he just walked into the room with a sour look on his face and tossed my phone on to the couch I was sitting on. “Thanks.” I mumbled, wondering why he was being so rude. I looked down at the screen and was hit with realization. My ex was calling, I was still good friends with my ex we left things on good terms but Ethan did not like that we still talked to each other. I understood where he was coming from but he was no threat and sometimes Ethan was so ridiculously jealous. “Hey.” I said into the phone, I watched Ethan walk into the bedroom.

“Hey, y/n how are you?” he asked me. I pondered on that question. How was I?

“Uhhh I’m okay, how are you?” I replied. I could hear shuffling coming from the bedroom.

“Well actually I was hoping you could help me with something,” he started just as Ethan walked out of the bedroom, making swift tracks to the front door. I had to stop him I didn’t want him to leave with the tension between us so thick.

“Hang on, look I really want to help you out and be a good friend but there is something I have to do right now. Bye, I’m sorry” I said frantically and hung up the phone. Ethan was about to leave.

“Ethan wait!” I yelled as I ran over to the door in attempt to stop him. I could tell he was angry, he was clenching his jaw and wouldn’t even look at me. Ethan was scary when he was angry, I knew he would never hurt me but regardless every move he made makes me flinch. 

“Y/n I din’t want to do this right now.” he said, barely opening his mouth to annunciate. He was seconds from exploding with rage.

“We have to do this right now, your not leaving until we have sorted this.” I was a big believer in ‘you should never go to bed on an argument’. I stood in front of the door, “and I know you wouldn’t dare hurt me, so if I stand here you can’t leave.” I said, crossing my arms. I thought that playing the sarcastic card would soften him a bit but he didn’t budge.

“Fucking hell y/n” Ethan yelled as he kicked a pot that was on the floor, it smashed and chunks of glass were all over the floor. 

“That was uncalled for.” I muttered. He spun around to face me.

“I think when your girlfriend is best friends with a guy who used to fuck her nothing is ‘uncalled for’” He spat at me. I rolled my eyes.

“We are not best friends, we talk once a month, if that. He has never tried anything on with me, I never actually hang out with him anyway. AND he has a new girlfriend! There is no reason for you to be such a jealous asshole all the time.” I spat back at him. 

“Fuck you y/n, you don’t understand me at all. Do you know how hard it is for me to see you talking to people you used to be with. I could never be friends with my exes.” he replied, he was really hurting me but I contained myself.

“We are just different in that sense.” I said softly, looking down at the floor.

“Too different.” he mumbled back. I looked up at him, he didn’t look angry anymore, he looked broken. ‘Please don’t let this be the end’, I thought to myself. He walked past me and opened the door. I didn’t bother trying to stop him this time. I knew if we kept arguing it would ruin any chance of this being resolved. I heard him open and close the door. He was gone, hopefully not forever.

Playing House

Author: Mikala

Characters: Clint Barton x Reader

Word Count: 2,500

Warnings: Maybe like one swear word?

Author’s Note: This was also supposed to be a drabble… I am known for going above and beyond. The prompt was “I needed someone… And you were the only one I thought of.” I made up a cousin/family members for Clint. As always in my fics, Clint’s wife and kids do not exist in this.

Read “Making It Home (Playing House: Part 2)” here!

Originally posted by imaginesforlifetime

Makeup scrubbed off, freshly showered, hair pulled up, pajamas on. Your bed was calling your name, and as far as you were concerned, nothing was going to pull you away from it. You had just laid down, pulled the covers over your body, and found a comfortable position when you heard your cell phone’s text alert sound go off. You groaned, tempted to ignore it, but it went off twice more almost immediately afterwards. You figured that if it was an emergency, whoever it was would have called you rather than texted… But then again, who would text you three times in a row when it was almost midnight? Your curiosity got the better of you, and you found yourself rolling over to grab your phone from your nightstand. You smiled when you saw the messages were from “Merida.” You had a fierce love for all things Disney, and maybe a little crush on a certain archer friend of yours, so that was what Clint’s number was saved as in your contacts. You quickly scrolled through his most recent texts to you.


Ok well… It’s not really an emergency but I would appreciate your help –Clint

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Whether you need some liquid courage for the night, something refreshing to quench your palate, or something comforting to warm your heat, Turkey has got you covered on drinks. Here’s a list of beverages you can find in Turkey. 

Yeni rakı is the top rakı brand in Turkey. Turks consume an average of 1.5 litres of rakı per capita per year. 

  • Rakı: As one of the top choice alcohols in Turkey rakı can be seen everywhere. This aniseed based drink generally has a 40-45% alcohol level. Similar drinks are popular in the Balkans, and to a lesser extent Iran and other Turkic countries. Rakı is so popular in fact, it is considered the national drink in Turkey.  Rakı turns white when water is added. Due to this it has gained the colloquial title of “aslan sütü” or “lion’s milk”. In Turkish culture lions are seen as symbols of bravery and courage, hence implying it is a drink for strong men - it is popular among all types of people however. It is a popular pairing with fish and red meat dishes.  

Ayran is best served frothy. 

  • Ayran: Ayran is yogurt drink mixed with salt and cold water. It is usually paired with grilled meat dishes. Nomadic Turks have consumed ayran since before 1000 A.D. and some theorize that Göktürks had invented it when trying to improve the taste of bitter yogurt. Similar drinks are popular in Western, Central, and South Asia. 

Turkish coffee in a typical coffee cup with a side of lokum (Turkish delights). 

  • Türk Kahvesi: Sometimes confused as being a type of coffee bean, Turkish coffee is actually a method of preparing coffee. Roasted coffee is ground into a fine powder then simmered with water in a pot (cezve). The grounds are left in the coffee. A good cup of coffee should have a thick layer of foam on top. The coffee is typically served with biscuits or sweets and a glass of water. Turkish coffee is popular across the Middle East, the Balkans, and other parts of Europe. Turkish coffee has an interesting role in Turkish culture. At one point it was so popular in the Ottoman Empire that it left a mark on Turkish vocabulary. Breakfast is referred to as kahvaltı meaning under or before coffee. The colour brown is kahverengi meaning coffee colour. When a suitor visits a girl’s home with his family, the girl serves everyone Turkish coffee but puts salt in the potential groom’s drink. If he drinks it easily it is suppose to be a sign of his good temper. Kahve falı (tasseography) is also popular in Turkey. People read your fortune by interpreting the coffee grounds left at the bottom of your cup after you turn your cup upside down on a saucer. Most people do not take the fortune seriously but treat it as a fun tradition. 

A tray of black tea served in typical tulip shaped glasses on the shores of Üsküdar with Kız Kulesi (Maiden’s Tower) atop the Bosphorus in the background. 

  • Çay: Çay is by far the most popular drink in Turkey. Turks drinks tea so much and so often that they actually boast the highest average consumption of tea per capital in the world. I’ve made a previous post about tea in Turkey that goes more in-depth, you can read it by clicking here. Below are some of the more common types of tea found in Turkey.
    • Black Tea: At every corner you’ll hear people clinking their spoons against the rim of tulip shaped glasses as they mix some sugar into their black tea. Black tea is the most common type of tea in Turkey. Much of the tea is sourced from Rize, a lush green province on the eastern coast of the Black Sea. 
    • Nane Limon: A common herbal remedy, mint lemon tea is usually drunk to relieve stomach ailments, nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, headaches, and to lower stress. 
    • Ada Çayı: Another popular herbal tea, sage tea is drunk to relieve upset stomachs, relax muscles, relieve sore throats and other cold/flu symptoms, and even reduce menopausal symptoms. 
    • Elma Çayı: Sometimes apple tea is thought to be the most popular Turkish tea by foreigners. This misconception stems from the fact that apple tea is typically served to guests and foreigners in tourist areas because of its sweet taste. It is not an everyday beverage for most Turks. 

A warm cup of salep garnished with cinnamon and coco. 

  • Salep: Salep is a thick warm beverage made from orchid root flour, sugar, milk, and cinnamon. It is commonly consumed in fall and winter. Salep and similar drinks can be found in many former Ottoman territories. 

Glasses of boza waiting to be served. 

  • Boza: Boza is a thick drink made from fermented wheat topped with cinnamon and roasted chickpeas. Boza was traditionally a fall/winter drink because it had to be kept cool in order to prevent spoling; however, with the invention of refrigeration it is now available year-round. The drink is believed to have originated from nomadic Turkic peoples in Central Asia as early as the 6th century B.C. 

A glass of  şalgam among a table of food at a restaurant in Istanbul.

  • Şalgam: This sour drink is made from turnips (şalgam), pickled red carrots, salt, spices, and fermented wheat. It is commonly served along side rakı. Şalgam is sometimes used as a hangover cure. Adana touts itself as the home of şalgam. 

A chef pours gravy on top of a plate of iskender kebap served with a bottle of Şıra (top left corner) at a restaurant in Kadıköy.

  • Şıra: Şıra is a highly sweet non-alchoholic fermented grape drink. It is usually served with iskender kebap, a specialty of Bursa.  

After an advertising ban on alcohol in 2013, Efes put out these ads as a way around the law.  The picture on the left reads “Görmesek de biliriz.” meaning “Even if we don’t see, we know.” The one of the right reads “Ne bu şişe?” meaning “What is this bottle?”. The company wanted to show that they could still generate sales because of how iconic the Efes beer brand and its bottle shape is in Turkey. 

  • Bira: You can’t talk about drinks in Turkey without talking about beer. Beer is the most consumed alcohol in Turkey, accounting for 63% of all alcohol consumption. The largest beer company in Turkey is Efes Pilsen, dominating over 80% of the market. Since the AKP took to office, the government has attempted to lower alcohol consumption by levying heavier taxes, restricting sales, censoring advertisement, and imposing partial drinking bans (by area). However, consumption hasn’t been affected much by the policies and is generally on a slow trend upward. 

Red wine is poured into a glass looking out at the hot air balloons and beautiful rock formation in Cappedocia. The area is one of the largest wine producing regions in the country and historically had some wine production when Christians used to live in Central Anatolia.

  • Şarap: Anatolia has a long history of wine production and is thought to be one of the oldest wine producing regions of the world dating back 7000 years. Even when Islam was introduced into Anatolia, the tradition continued not just among the Christian communities (for whom it was permitted) but among Muslims despite attempted bans. At one point even the Hanafi school of thought, the leading basis for Islamic law in the Ottoman Empire, allowed for the consumption of alcohol. Hanafis later changed their position on this subject disapproving it. Red wine is the most common wine in Turkey. Alcohol consumption varies in Turkey. The Marmara and Aegean region boast the highest percentage with 20% and 18.8% of people consuming it respectively, with South Eastern Anatolia having the lowest at 4.7%. Overall consumption across the country stand at about 17%. 

Some of the most popular brands of sparkling mineral water in Turkey. 

  • Soda: The word soda in Turkish is often used to describe sparkling water. This might seem like a mundane beverage to put on this list, but it is commonly ordered off of menus at restaurants and bought from grocery stores as it is thought to help digestion. Though we have Perrier and San Pellegrino in North America, these are marketed as luxury sparkling waters and are not as widely consumed compared to Turkey’s demand for sparkling water.  

A man gets ready to eat balık ekmek (fish sandwich) with a side of turşu suyu.

  • Turşu suyu: Similar to şalgam, turşu suyu (pickled vegetable juice) is a sour beverage made from pickled vegetables ranging from beets, carrots, cabbage, cucumbers, onion, peppers, garlic, etc. all placed in chunks in a glass of pickle brine. Also like şalgam, it is sometimes considered a hangover cure. Turşu suyu is typically drunk with fish. 

A cold glass of cherry juice ready to drink on a hot summer day. 

  • Vişne Nektarı: It may seem odd to feature a fruit juice but I wanted to put this one of the list because it’s rarely found in North America, cherry juice. Vişne is sour cherry, and this juice is particularly popular in the west coast of Turkey and in Afyon which is known in the country for its cherry production. 

Glasses of lohusa Şerbeti being prepared to serve up at a baby shower welcoming a new born a few weeks after birth. 

  • Lohusa Şerbeti: Lohusa Şerbeti is as sweet spiced drink. Traditionally it is drunk by new mothers before birth in order to increase milk production. It is also served to guests at baby showers which, in Turkey, take place after the baby is born. 
Divided: Part 6

Pairings: Bucky x Reader, Steve x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Violence 

Word Count: 1832

Summary: You head into a mission, but your goal is jeopardized by a lack of focus as emotions still run high 

Authors Note:  Hello my loves, as I said I’m back. I just got on a writing kick today so I cranked out part 6 for the hell of it. As I said this fic operates right in tandem with the Civil War plot line so you may notice some familiar lines and descriptions. Hope you all enjoy. Tagging is open, they’ve just been moved to the bottom, just ask if you want to be tagged :D

Divided: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

Your hand glides cautiously over your blade as you check the effect of your sharpening. You drag the rag across the steel, brushing off shavings and buffing it again. You can feel Steve’s eyes on you from across the quinjet, watching your ministrations, studying you.

You ignore him as you expertly slide your thumb up and down the sharpened edge once more, feeling for nicks or imperfections. “We need to talk.” Steve suddenly huffs down beside you, causing you to wince as your thumb slips on the knife creating a small cut. You immediately raise the open wound to your mouth, sucking at the cut, irritation etched on your face as you turn to raise your eyebrows to him.

“Do we? You made it perfectly clear that you were done talking to me this morning, why the sudden change of heart Cap?” You snap back, spitting his title at him as you take your thumb from your mouth to check on the cut. Steve leans into you, looking at you sadly. You feel the pressure of Sam’s eyes, watching the two of you surreptitiously from across the jet.

“I’ve been thinking. I… I should have realized sooner…” You raise your eyebrows at him, wondering what conclusion he had come to, your stomach tensing in fear of him potentially being correct. “You’ve been distant ever since Bucharest, ever since you got hurt…” Your heart beats faster as you fight to keep control of your face, not wishing to betray your fear.

“I get it now… you started questioning your abilities.” You shoot him a quizzical look, confused by the turn of his thoughts “Y/N, the Winter Soldier is a trained assassin, one of the deadliest in history…” “He’s also your best friend.” You interrupt, feeling the defensive tone creep into your voice as you protect Bucky, reminding Steve of who he is talking about.

Steve takes a deep breath, hiding the flash of shock your words had caused to flit across his face, “All I’m saying is, it’s ok that you were overwhelmed, overpowered. And it’s completely normal to have lost a bit of your confidence, to be questioning your abilities… yourself… us.”

His hands wrap around yours, holding them softly as you try to process what he said. “Wait… you think… you think I stopped sleeping with you because I got my ass kicked?” You ask, becoming more shocked with his conclusion as the words form in your mouth.

“Well… yeah… I mean it all was rather out of the blue, Beautiful.” Steve smiles, convinced that he has unlocked your inner workings.

“You… god you’re so…” You stumble over your words as you fight to control your anger, ripping your hands away from Steve. “You’re so arrogant! I haven’t lost anything nor am I questioning anything about myself! I stopped fucking you because I am not interested anymore Steve, no other reason.” You hiss at him, fighting the urge to yell so as not to make the entire jet privy to your argument.

Steve looks at you, taken aback, caught off guard by your rejection of his rationalization. “I’m just… I’m just trying to understand Y/N… we’ve been happy and fine for the past few months and all of sudden you’re just… done with me?” You feel a sting in the pit of your stomach, knowing exactly why you were done, feeling the guilt swell inside of you at your inability to give Steve an honest answer.

“Did I do something? Did I say something wrong? Is there someone else?” His words cause your breath to catch in your chest as you hurriedly fight to control your face, hoping you didn’t give any clues to the accuracy of his questions.

Technically speaking there wasn’t anyone else, though you had been slowly developing feelings for Bucky, there was nothing in his interaction or demeanor to suggest that those feelings were returned.

But still… every time you saw him you felt an immediate flutter in your stomach as a flush would rise to your face. Secretly, you were even now hoping for a quick mission, knowing that you had promised to return to Bucky in 2 days’ time.

“Y/N?” Steve asks, pulling you back to the conversation. “Where is your head? I asked you a question.” He looks hurt as he analyzes the blank stare on your face. “Sorry, I just…” you start but his anger interrupts you, “See this is what I’m talking about, you’re never around anymore. Mentally, physically, you’re just absent, where the hell do you disappear to?”

“We are approaching Lagos. Strap in for landing.” Nat calls over the com, causing your team to settle into seats along the wall. “Well it ends now, it’s time for you to focus. So perk up and pay attention, that’s an order from your Captain.” He growls as he leaves you, moving to the other side of the hanger and settling in beside Sam.

“I count seven hostiles,” Cap reports as he moves quickly outside of the Institute for Infectious Diseases, attempting to infiltrate and stop Rumlow. Sam swoops down, dropping you on the lower roof as you both spring into action taking out 2 more enemies. “I count five” Sam huffs as he takes flight once again, clotheslining an agent that Wanda threw into his wing. “Four” He reports with satisfaction.

You move along the roof top, monitoring the movements of your team as your Captain is flung up into the building by Wanda. She quickly turns her attention to the toxic smoke, extracting it and dispersing it in the atmosphere. You run along the lower roof, looking through the windows at the floor below Cap, counting the guards.

As soon as the smoke is cleared, you make your move, backing up slightly to get a running start, your knife held perpendicular to your forearm as you jump, the tip of the scorpion blade cracking into the class, allowing your body to shatter through.

Your sudden presence was enough to startle the collection of guards but it did not give you the upper hand for very long. You reach quickly into your tactical suit, filling your fingers with close range daggers as you begin to fling them out, cutting tendons and slicing arteries.

You move with speed, rotating quickly to land a kick to a man’s chest in front of you while sinking your scorpion dagger into an assailant’s ribs on your right. Just as you finish with the last of the 2 men, you hear your name, Steve’s surprised and anxious tone calling your attention.

You turn to look at him, your focus caught by the worried cry of your Captain as Rumlow comes round the corner, quickly training his gun on you as you dive out of the way, unavoidably throwing yourself through an office window, out of his line of fire as he sprays a barrage of bullets through the floor.

You hear his progress down the hallway continue as you wince, feeling bits of class slicing your hands. “Y/N, Y/N, are you alright?” Steve skitters to a halt his knees sliding along the floor as he displaces the glass around you.

“I’m fine,” You spit, furious at his distractibility, “What the hell are you doing? Go get Rumlow!!” You yell at him, shoving him away from you. He looks at you as if he was a puppy you just kicked as he hops backwards, falling into a run as he heads your command, chasing after Rumlow.

You dislodge yourself from the glass, rising cautiously to your feet as you scan through your body, pulling chunks of glass out of certain areas. You wince as you assess the damage, determining them all to be only flesh wounds.

With that, you retrieve your knife, moving back to the circle of corpses that you had left, the ones you’d allowed to survive now gunned down by Rumlow himself. You move through their limp forms, collecting your knives, resetting your weapons as you begin to jog to the stairwell, calling into the com for the location of your team.  

You sprint through the streets, running against the throng of people hurriedly retreating from the market. You hear a crash to your left, as you see Cap fly through a food stand. You correct your course, quickly coming behind Rumlow and driving one of your longer blades between his armor, into his side.

He chokes in shock, swinging around, disoriented, trying to swat you away, but the damage is done. Cap walks forward, landing a sharp kick to his chest, bringing him to his knees, you roughly pull his mask off, exposing the scared and crippled face beneath it.

“I think I look pretty good all things considered.” He snarls, winking at you as you retreat behind Steve, “Who’s your buyer.” The Captains hands shake him roughly by his vest, demanding answers. “He knew you, your pal, your buddy, your Bucky.” You tense at the name, knowing what Rumlow was referring to, “What did you say?” Steve leans in closer to Rumlow “He remembered you… I was there. He got all weepy about it. Till they put his brain back in the blender.”

You wince feeling sick at the idea, imagining Bucky ripped from himself, knowing the pain he felt at his own lack of control, knowing how his life had become his own personal nightmare. You glare at Rumlow, furiously taking in his defeated stance, your eyes flicking down to a movement of his hands.  “He said to me, ‘Please tell Rogers,’” “Steve!” you yell, realizing Rumlow’s fingers had incased the trigger of a bomb, finally noting the c-4 strapped around his chest.

But you were too late “When you gotta go, you gotta go, and you’re coming with me.” You brace as Rumlow’s finger snaps down on the trigger, but the explosion didn’t come. You felt the heat from the fire radiating against your skin as you open your eyes to see a ball of flame contained around Rumlow.

You whip hurriedly around to see Wanda, straining fervently to control the explosion but seeing her powers beginning to fail under the pressure. With a flick of her wrist the ball of fire was thrown into the air, exploding out through a higher floor of the office building in front of you.

“Oh my god” you breathe, taking in the explosion, “Sam…” Cap breathes, unable to think, “We need fire and rescue… on the south side of the building.” You take a step back, looking at Wanda as her hands rise to her mouth, her face horrified and fearful as she sinks to her knees. You glance up as camera crews quickly appear on the scene, filming the fire.

You move to Wanda pulling her to her feet as you wrap your arm around her shoulders, moving her quickly from the market place and back towards the jet, leaving the Captain to deal with the fallout of his own distractions.

Part 7

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Today is a wonderful day! I don’t put any value in jewelry but this gem you see is one I hold very dear to my heart. Because it was made just for me to use. My grandmother used to be a jeweler before she changed to ceramics. So she had this chunk of raw topaz which looked like a chunk of glass that was rusting so when I had graduated from high school she took the raw topaz and had them cut into this heart. My grandmother was going to give it me but fell really and forgot about. About three years before she passed, I was with her in her room with my grandfather (they slept in separate rooms, so something was serious). She told me “You never bought anything to please others but instead crafted with your own two hands things that would make others happy. You put such value and love into each thing you build for others without asking for anything but a smile in return”. She then grabbed my hand with her right and face my palm upwards and put her left hand over it and said “When you find the one that matches your heart, please use this to represent your eternal bond to your beloved one”. She lifter her hand and this gem is what I saw in mine. My grandfather then said “Remember that rock you saw that you called rusty glass that you used to try to play with. Well, it was topaz and your grandmother took it to get it specially cut into that shape and design for you. As it represents our love and support for you, I hope you one day you give it to the one you love and support. I know you will build something out of it.”. So this gem is something I truly value because it’s one of the few thing I got from her. So when I moved to help my grandfather when he got really ill, I had lost it. Well, it was stolen by my own family who hates my guts and doesn’t want to have anything of my grandparents. So I thought I had lost this forever and never to see it again. So when I moved away after he passed, my mother wanted me to have this box which my grandfather gave her to give to me. In it was all his pocket belongings and a few of my tools I had lost. But at the very bottom was a bag with his pocket knife and this little metal heart locket. Puzzled I was to see this tiny heart locket and thought why would he have something like this? I opened and it was the heart gem I lost. So my grandfather took it back from my family and had kept it to give to me. So this makes me really happy to have back! I hadn’t been doing well emotionally since he passed but I’ll take this as a sign from him to stand on my own two feet and be the one instead giving the support to others in need. I needed that wake up call, thank you grandfather!!!

Just Five More Minutes 《Microfic #3》[Natepat]

“Just five more minuets…”

Nate had been saying those four simple words all his life–

Waking up in the morning to his alarm clock, fighting for warm water in showers with annoying roommates, time to read just one more chapter of a book he’d fallen in love with…

“Just five more minutes…”

His voice was pleading now as he gripped that bloody hand, tears bubbling in his eyes. The searing ground pressing against the bare skin of his knees and the chunks of glass and asfalt that ground into his flesh kept him painfully grounded to reality. His mind wanted to shut down– His body as well from the primitive blood loss.

“Just five more minutes…”

He kept repeating this sentence like it was a Buddhist’s mantra, the words burning his throat, sliding past bloodstained lips from the broken nose that now oozed the crimson liquid dripping down his chin.

“Just… Five more minutes…”

Matt lay on the ground from where Nate had yanked both him and himself from the demolished car, unmoving and barely breathing. His usually tidy hair was messy and matted with blood, gashes from glass shards littering his body, his shirt torn and bloody.

“Just… Five… Five more minuets…”

Nate had called the paramedics as soon as his knees hit the ground and Matt’s body fell from his lacerated arms like a brick, his phone resting at his side from where he’d dropped it to craddle Matt’s hand within his own. He didn’t even care to see if the other driver was okay. He needed Matt to be okay.

“P-Please, Matt… Just… Five more… Minuets.”

His world was blacking out, swimming with the sounds of rushing cars, the distant pitch of police and medic sirens who couldn’t get their fast enough. He was losing his grip slowly…



Nate’s body drooped like a dead weight, his head falling on Matt’s stomach, his body curled on it’s side, his fingers still loosely tangled with his best friend’s. His eyes rolled back in his head, and one more breathless plea left his lips;

“Five… More minutes…”

Before he was gone.


you said you hate yourself
so let me feed you strawberries off a plate i bought from a widow who was selling her husbands things
and we’ll see if you still hate yourself
if you still hate yourself
i’ll eat you out for an hour in your room cause i love giving head
if you still hate yourself
we’ll cut ourselves and swallow chunks of broken glass i don’t care about finishing college
i’ll buy the biggest tv that my credit card allows me we’ll watch the food network for the rest of our lives

teen suicide//salvia plath