crappy i know but i can only do so much with the caps i got

deh cell phone/social media headcanons (?)

ok so I like rarely post on this blog but I couldn’t stop thinking about like what they’d all be like using their phones and stuff?? idk im tired this is gonna be shitty but less go


  • ok but he would def have an ifunny and have like 1834384 followers (or whatever idk how it works but he’d be popular ya know)
  • and like brag about it  constantly
  • like “guys I’m like,,, ,, kind of famous not to brag”
  • (but he would be bragging)
  • (110%)
  • ok hear me out,, but he would SO be one of those people who have an android phone and believe that apple products are Spawned From Satan™
  • like if anyone would be like “haha lol why do u have that crappy phone” he would launch into a fULL ON RANT about how much apple sucks and all the cool stuff on his phone and how much better it is
  • he would probs have a meme account on insta too tbh
  • he would have a voicemail that goes “hello?” and trick the person to start talking ya know
  • and like ten seconds in he would be like “SiKe i’m not here rn hahAAA leave a message”
  • he would text in all lowercase for sURE
  • lots of crytyping and excessive commas obvi
  • uh he would have the highest snapscore (or whatever it’ ever it’s called)
  • his story would always be sooo long 
  • all just vids of his day and people doing funny things
  • he would have 23859320495803 snapchat memories ok
  • he would just be v funny idk i love him


  • connor frekaing murphy okay
  • just hear me out pls
  • ,he would probably have a tumblr that’s like surprisingly aesthetic?
  • (idk how to word that but you now what i’m trying to say)
  • but it would be a Major Secret™ like if someone asked him he would be like “lol tumblr who is that”
  • his screen on his phone would always be shattered
  • he wouldn’t really care tho tbh
  • his insta would probably be like empty except for one picture he posted when he was really young
  • but after he meets evan he posts a lot more
  • like really really random candids that most people would just delete
  • that would be his entire account okay
  • (also pictures of evan being Cute)
  • he would most likely always have the second newest iphone
  • like when everyone had an iphone 7 he would have a 6 know what i mean
  • ok but 
  • cmon
  • he would DEF take so many selfies
  • and like keep them in his my eyes only on snapchat
  • he would never post them anywhere but one day he decided to post one on insta and everyone was s h o o k 
  • and freaked out
  • im talking like 200 comments
  • anyway
  • I just don’t picture him using snapchat that much
  • i think he would like have a streak with evan and maybe like a 3 day one with jared every once in a while but other than that nothin
  • his voicemail would be like “u can leave a message but ill probably not listen to it so just text me instead bye”
  • yeah that’s connor


  • zoe i love her omg
  • ok 
  • so she would have an insta and it would have The Best Theme Ever™
  • it would be v pastel i feel
  • and there would be a lot of pictures of flowers
  • and of alana
  • obvi
  • she would also post vids of her like playing the guitar and other instruments and they would be so good and get like so many likes
  • her bio would be something really deep but in french?
  • like she would probably go on google translate and type in a cool quote and just copy and paste it into her bio tbh 
  • but it would be so cute and cool
  • she would have a rose gold iphone
  • no matter what
  • it would always be the newest kind
  • and she would like n e v e r wear a case on her phone 
  • (except for those clear ones, in which case she would like draw on them or put stickers on)
  • but her phone would never crack or get scratched
  • ever
  • and everyone would be like “????? how???”
  • she would DEF have a tumblr
  • she would have a personal blog and then an aesthetic one and like 39483 extra sideblogs
  • her voicemail would be the typical “hey, it’s zoe! can’t get to the phone right now, pls leave a message!”
  • she would have had it as one like jared’s before but it probably somehow screwed her over
  • so she changed it
  • she would text in all caps a lot i feel
  • i just love her?? ok??


  • guys.
  • GUYS
  • i have so many for this girl
  • she would have a tumblr too
  • and she would follow every single one of zoe’s blogs
  • she would SO have a studyblr okay
  • like she would for sure have a bullet journal 
  • and have such pretty and high quality pens and highlighters
  • it would be everyone’s goals
  • her insta probably doesn’t have a theme tho
  • I feel like she wouldn’t post often?? ?
  • but when she would it would either be a long political thing or just a cute pic of zoe
  • she would have like mostly perfect grammar when she texts
  • except she would just use like SO MANY question marks
  • not like?? this??
  • but it would be like Wow?????????
  • like that
  • that made no sense
  • ok moving on
  • her voicemail. her voicemail
  • would be so extra okay
  • like she would have definetly (that’s not how u spell that ok) have found a way to make it so u have to press the numbers when u call her
  • like “for work calls, press 1. for family calls, press 2. zoe murphy, press 3.” that type thing
  • and she would have SO MANY different categories for everyone
  • people would get annoyed with it and give passive agressive messages sometimes but she wouldn’t care reallu
  • she loves her organized voicemail
  • she would def save her own money to buy her phone
  • but she would like mostly buy the iphone 6
  • idk why
  • she just would
  • SHE WOULD HAVE A SNAPCHAT STREAK WITH EVERYONE. dont fight me on this i know it
  • i love alana too 


  • okay okay okay guys
  • i saved the best for last
  • i like,,,, love evan so much ok
  • what a little bean
  • anyways
  • so first of all 
  • he would probably have the iphone 5s
  • and it would run out of battery in about .2 seconds
  • he wouldn’t really care but he feels bad missing his mom’s calls so he’s always asking for a car charger 
  • his background would be of trees on his lock screen (obvi okay)
  • but his homescreen would be a pic of connor 
  • 4 sure
  • of course
  • and once they’re like “official” his lockscreen would be a pic of them
  • just bein cute
  • aw 
  • ok this is for a different time but id like to mention that i feel like he would have a dog?
  • moving on
  • his voicemail would probably be the standard “your call has been transfered to an automated voice messaging system. blah blah blah.”
  • but jared would be like “dude. u gotta change that.”
  • so after like 203857 tries he finally just goes
  • “hithisisevanimnothererightnowpleaseleaveamessage”
  • (connor would think it’s adorable btw)
  • his instagram would be adorable
  • he would probably post every two seconds
  • he would post a lot of pics of trees
  • but when becomes closer with alana and zoe and connor he starts posting pics of all them together and like cute blurry selfies
  • his bio would be like “HI, this is evan! Here are my pictures.”
  • he would have a snap but not post on it much
  • like maybe every once in a while
  • but he would of course have a streak with connor
  • (probably alana too tbh)
  • oh i forgot to mention this but he would be terrified to crack his phone
  • he would have a big clunky case 
  • (like an off brand otter box but worse)
  • he would text with perfect grammar
  • it would be so cute
  • like “Hello, how are you?”
  • aaaaa
  • but when he would get really anxious he would pull up like one of those soothing sounds apps
  • and put use the apple headphones that you get with the phone in
  • (he would still have those and never loose them btw)
  • and he’d just try to breathe and listen
  • i love this boy so much. so so much. yeah. 

wow this was longer than i expected lol hope u enjoyed that crappy headcanon!

(ps i ended up actually making the pets headcanon so if u wanna see it lmk and i can post it lol)

That...makes so much sense

I have to thank @strixmoonwing for randomly reblogging the original post, which I didn’t just add to because this is a ML post, not a Superman one.  Even though it’s the same basic concept.

Go read the original Superman post (link) for all the mind-blowing concepts and credits.  The gist is that:

  • they can’t find your secret identity if they don’t think you have one 
  • that no one is going to think Superman, the suave, brave, protector of the world, is a clumsy reporter named Clark Kent who lives in a crappy apartment
  • they probably think being Superman is his day job.

So, what does that have to do with Ladybug?  Simple.

The majority of viewers (myself included) get annoyed by how obvious Marinette and Adrien are with their superhero identities and how their closest friends don’t figure it out.  Alya came close that one time in Lady Wifi

…which is entirely plausible because Adrien IS Chat Noir.  However, even the person that’s closest to him as Chat Noir (Marinette) and is also a masked superhero doesn’t connect those dots.  In fact, she denies it because Adrien is “so much cooler than Chat Noir”.

Fast forward to Simon Says / Jackady.  I recently posted a bunch of stuff (look under Gabriel Agreste for links) about how Gabriel probably knows his son is Chat Noir.  It took Adrien talking back to his dad while he was in costume for it to click.

Even then, Gabriel still had to check both Chat’s ring:

And Adrien’s ring:

Before it fully registered.  Granted, Gabriel isn’t what I’d call an attentive parent and probably doesn’t know Adrien as well as he should.

The point is that even though Adrien looks like Chat Noir and they’re never seen together, Adrien’s personality is so different as Chat that even his own partner refuses to believe they’re the same person and his dad only got it when the evidence was literally staring him in the face.

Read the Ladybug side of this after the cut…

Keep reading

I’d Say So (Jared Kleinman X Reader)

WC: 2125

Warnings: Kinda angsty, BMC/DEH crossover

Tagged: @lildipstick @bellasabb @ahhhhamilton

Summary: Y/N decides to get a SQUIP. Things don’t end well when her boyfriend, Jared, finds out.

A/N: This was requested!! Hope you guys enjoy!

“So this thing actually works? It isn’t gonna go haywire like Jeremy’s did?” I asked, glancing down nervously at the shoebox in front of me.

“Jeremy Heere was a rare instance. This is a newer software, so all the bugs have been fixed.” The stock boy said, pushing the shoebox closer towards me.

“Awesome, awesome. Here’s your money, then.” I said, passing him the required bills. He smiled at me as he took the money, and he looked more like a shark than anything remotely human.

“Enjoy your new life.” He said, passing me the pill. I took it and watched nervously as he walked away, my leg bouncing up and down.

I pulled out the bottle of Mountain Dew from my backpack, and uncapped it, shoving the cap in my pocket.

I took in a deep breath and popped the pill in my mouth, taking a large swig of Mountain Dew.

I swallowed and let out a sigh, remembering what Jeremy had said about it taking a while to kick in.

I walked quickly back to my car, thanking God that I only lived about a 5 minute drive from the mall. I got home and opened Instagram, noticing a new post from Jared.


Look at this nerd. She’s the worst, honestly. @Y/I/N

The photo was of me last Saturday, curled up on a couch, clutching a stuffed bear Jared gave me for Valentine’s Day and wearing one of Jared’s t-shirts.

I rolled my eyes, but a smile crept onto my face at his actions. I went to reply, but a wave of pain watched over my body.

“What the hell!” I screamed, collapsing to the ground. I rolled around, feeling my muscles seize up.

Calibration complete. Access procedure initiated.” A voice said and I looked around, wondering who was saying that. 

Discomfort level may increase.” The voice said and I suddenly let out a shriek of agony, feeling like I was being pulled apart from the inside.

Accessing: neural memory. Accessing: muscle memory. Access procedure: complete. Y/N Y/L/N… welcome to your Super Quantum Unit Intel Processor. Your SQUIP.” The voice rang through my head and I was suddenly free of pain.

“You… you sound like Lin-Manuel Miranda.” I said, and there was a brief silence. I wondered if the SQUIP was still active, but the voice spoke up again.

This is my default setting according to your memories. You can also set me for Kristin Chenoweth, Philippa Soo or Andrew Rannells.” Lin’s voice said, and I shook my head in disbelief.

“Lin’s fine. I, uh, God this is weird.” I said, still in shock and disbelief.

I exist only in your mind, Y/N. No one can see me, but they can, however, see you having an animated conversation with yourself. Instead, you can think at me. Telepathically, per se.” The SQUIP said, and I paused, cringing internally.

“Uh, ok.” I thought, still uncomfortable with Lin-Manuel Miranda in my head. Suddenly I heard a knock at the door, and my eyes widened.

Answer it, Y/N.” The voice said and I nodded, walking to the door. I swung it open, and smiled when I saw Michael and Jeremy standing there.

“Hey Y/N!” Michael said and I smiled, ushering them in. They dumped their backpacks down on the couch, and Jeremy brought me into a quick hug.

“How are you?” Jeremy asked, and I shrugged my shoulders. I suddenly felt a sharp pain in my back, and I straightened up immediately, cursing  internally.

You were slouching. For a drama student, I’d expect you to have better posture.” The SQUIP said and I immediately straightened up.

“I, uh, I’m fine. Really.” I said and Jeremy shot me a strange look.

“Can he tell I’ve got one? You know, a SQUIP?” I thought, and I imagined the SQUIP was laughing.

He can suspect, sure, but he will never be certain because of the fact that his unit is currently disabled.” Lin’s voice said and I nodded, not noticing th strange look Jeremy shot me.

“Y/N… are you sure you’re ok?” Jeremy asked, gently placing a hand on my arm. I flinched away slightly, and Jeremy’s eyes widened.

I hate to alarm you, but he has definitely noticed now.” My SQUIP said and I let out a shaky breath.

“How could you? I… ugh.” Jeremy said, running a hand through his hair.

“What’s wrong? Is… is something going on?” Michael asked, jogging up next to Jeremy.

“She got one, Michael. A SQUIP.” Jeremy whispered, and Michael’s face fell as he looked at me.

“Why?” Michael asked, looking at me with shock and disappointment etched into his features.

You should probably answer him. And tell him the truth. You may not have the same end game as Jeremy did, but they’ll assume that you do.” My SQUIP said and at this point I wanted to punch it.

“I, uh, I can assure you that I don’t want to be cool. That’s the last thing I want.” I said, but that didn’t ease the disappointment on my friend’s faces.

“You saw what that thing did to Jeremy. To the entire school. Why would you want that, Y/N?” Michael asked, sounding incredibly hurt.

“I… I wanted to be something better than what I already am. I know I have a good life and wonderful friends, but that doesn’t stop me from having social anxiety and a crappy self esteem.” I said and their faces softened slightly.

“You should’ve come to us instead of getting one of those cursed floppy discs implanted in your brain. You could’ve gone to Evan. Or Jared. God, what’s Jared gonna say about this?” Jeremy said, his eyes widening slightly.

I assure you, I am much better than a floppy disc.” The SQUIP said and I sighed, raking a hand through my hair.

“I’m calling Jared, Y/N. He has to know about this. He loves you more than anything else.” Michael said, and I winced at the thought of Jared reacting to the news Michael would be bearing.

“Maybe Michael and I should head off. We, uh, we can meet up another afternoon.” Jeremy said, looking at me with pity in his eyes.

“Calm down Jared! Yes, she’s home. Where do you think we are?” I heard Michael say, and I let out a sigh.

“Stay strong, Y/N. If it, uh, ever gets too much, I have an open door and a fridge full of Mountain Dew Red. Just remember that.” Jeremy said, tentatively placing a hand on my arm.

I would highly recommend not taking his offer. My objective is to help, I swear.” I nodded, smiling at Jeremy.

“Jared’s on his way over. He did not sound impressed.” Michael said, shoving his phone in his pocket.

“Ok, ok. You guys should go.” I said, giving the boys the largest smile I could muster. It was pretty depressing, but they appreciated the sentiment.

I waved halfheartedly at them as they left, and I let out a sigh as soon as they were gone.

You haven’t ruined your friendship, Y/N. They’re just disappointed. And slightly angry, but that’s not the point.” The SQUIP said, and I let out a groan.

“I don’t care that I haven’t ruined our friendship. They still hate me, and I can’t blame them.” I thought, pacing around the house and thanking god my parents weren’t home.

We’ll work on your self loathing later. Jared’s here.” I took in a deep breath, readying myself for the wrath of Jared.

“What the hell were you thinking, babe?” I saw Jared storm in, his face already red.

“I’m sorry, it’s just.” Jared interrupted me by capturing my lips in a kiss, and my eyes widened slightly.

Well, that was unexpected.”

I closed my eyes, attempting to block out the SQUIP. It worked, and I tangled my fingers in Jared’s hair, tugging on it gently.

He let out a low moan, and his grip on my waist tightened slightly. Jared pulled away, his breathing laboured and his cheeks flushed.

“I love you. You know that right?” Jared said, his hair sticking up at odd angles.

“Of course.” I muttered, resting my forehead against Jared’s.

“Then why the hell would you do this?” Jared said, pulling his face away from mine.

I let out a sigh, running a hand through my hair. “Jared, you know how much of a mess I am. I’m socially anxious, and…” I said, not wanting to tell Jared my other reason for getting the SQUIP.

“And? And what?” Jared said, looking at me with a determination he reserved only for incredibly intense games of Monopoly.

“And I often get worried that you don’t really love me.” I whispered, lowering my gaze to the floor.

Just in case you’re wondering, Jared isn’t pleased with that. At all.”

“Is.. do you honestly think that?” Jared asked, his voice soft. I took in a deep breath and nodded, bravely lifting my head.

I felt tears welling in my eyes, but I noticed that they had started to form in Jared’s eyes as well.

“Oh, Y/N.” Jared whispered, pulling me close to his chest. I sniffled, feeling a few tears run down my face.

“Shh, shh.” Jared muttered into my hair, rubbing my back soothingly. My tears found their way onto Jared’s shirt, and I noticed that my SQUIP was silent.

“Hey, hey, look at me.” Jared said and I lifted my head, noticing that his eyes were starting to go a little red.

“Never, ever, doubt that I love you. Sure, there will be times where you feel unloveable. Like the world is just out to get you. But those times are minute in comparison to the good times.” Jared said, gently wiping away one of my tears with his thumb.

Mathematically, and according to your memory base, 85% of the memories you have could be classed as ‘good’.

“I love absolutely everything about you. Your smile, your eyes and the way they light up when I tell you some dumb joke. How your hair always smells like strawberries and vanilla. Like, how?” Jared said, and I chuckled weakly.

“It’s my shampoo.” I muttered, a half smile resting on my face. Jared smiled widely at me and kissed my forehead, his lips lingering for a few seconds.

“I love the way your hand fits so perfectly in mine, and don’t get me started on your body. That could spark a very different kind of conversation.” Jared said, looking me up and down, biting his lip.

I felt the blood rush to my cheeks, and my smile widened slightly. “What I’m trying to say is, I love you Y/N Y/L/N, and I always will. SQUIP or no SQUIP.” Jared said, placing his lips on mine.

You should tell him that he’ll probably love you more with my assistance.”

I wrapped my arms around his neck, fiddling with the hair on the nape of his neck. His arms snaked around my waist, and pulled me tightly against his chest.

I kissed Jared with fervour, focusing on nothing except him. I pulled away reluctantly, my lungs burning slightly.

“I love you. I love you. I love you.” Jared said, punctuating his words by kissing both my cheeks and my forehead. I sniffled, smiling wider and brighter than before.

“You’re my favourite human being. You know that, right?” I said, looking up at Jared with love in my eyes.

Jared chuckled, tucking a wisp of hair behind my ear. “Of course I know that. And the same goes for you, Y/N. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” He said, taking one of my hands in his free one.

“Crash and burn, probably. You’re not very good at fending for yourself, babe.” I said, gigging slightly as I watched Jared pout.

“You’re so mean. I meant, it’s true, but still!” Jared said, squeezing my hand gently. I rolled my eyes, pecking his dusty pink cheek.

“Oh, babe! I almost forgot.” Jared said suddenly, and I looked at him curiously, arching an eyebrow.

“What is it?” I asked, and Jared smiled widely at me, pulling his phone out from his pocket.

“I saw the funniest meme the other day. You’re gonna love it!” Jared exclaimed, unlocking his phone and scrolling through it.

I laughed loudly, shaking my head at the enthusiasm Jared had for memes. “Sometimes I wonder why I’m still dating you, Jared.” I said, laughing slightly.

“Because I’m a wonderful human being who love you with every fibre of his being?” Jared said, giving me wide puppy dog eyes.

“I’d say so, babe. I’d say so.”


Ten years ago I was a student on my own in NYC. The price gouging of insulin in the US was just beginning. I have been type1 diabetic since the age of twelve. When I think of the struggles I’ve gone through in the past twenty years just to stay alive, a few memories stand out like shards of glass: clear, pointed, and bloody. This is one of those shards…

I am twenty. My alarm wakes me at six to get ready for class. It wakes me at six to begin the strict and unforgiving regimen that keeps me alive.
Before anything else I test my blood sugar – blearily, groggily, automatically. The meter is a crappy drug store brand. I miss my old meter but I can’t afford to use that one anymore – the test strips were $75 a bottle. $375 a month. $15 a bottle for this one.
Slide the strip into the meter and prick my finger. This meter requires more blood than my old one, so the poke has to be deeper, and I squeeze until a gory crimson pearl forms on my fingertip. The dull lancet hurts: you’re supposed to change them out after each use, but I change it out more like once a week, because a box of lancets is $20, and who can afford that?
This is the first of between 8-20 tests I am supposed to each day: when I wake up, before and after each meal and snack, before, during, and after exercise, before bed, any time I feel “off”, and maybe a middle of the night check because I’m afraid of dying in my sleep.

Dead In Bed Syndrome is the number one cause of death for young type1s.

Truth be told, I don’t test as much as I am supposed to anymore. I can’t afford that. Once, when I tried to refill the script for my strips a week too early, the pharmacist told me coldly, “You’re testing too much.”
“I’m type one,” I replied, nonplussed, thinking he should recognize the obvious implications of that statement.
“You test four times a day. Prescription for four times a day,” he said patronizingly through a thick accent.
In a rare moment of assertiveness fed by desperation, I slammed both hands on the counter, “Do you even know the difference between type one and two?” I asked, “You’re not a doctor! I’m testing exactly as much as my doctor told me to.”
That was when I realized it was the insurance company I must defer to in matters of health, not my doctor.
During class in the morning I feel hazy. Prof gets a bit blurred around the edges. Can’t make out the diagram of a neuron projected on the screen.

My meter beeps quietly when I test, and the bro next to me grunts, “Do you have to do that now?” having assumed I was fiddling with a phone or PDA. I crumple and say nothing. Time to calculate a correction.
My entire life is math. I calculate how much insulin I need to correct – to bring my blood glucose down to the normal range. I calculate how many grams of carbohydrate are in anything I eat, and how much insulin I’ll need to compensate for them. I subtract for the insulin that’s still in my system. I subtract for any exercise I’ll be doing. I add for lack of sleep. I add for emotions: for anger, for sadness, for fear. I add for hormones: menstrual, cortisol from the stress of school, of working two jobs, and ironically, from the stress of not being able to afford my insulin.
Surreptitiously under my desk, I draw the insulin up into a syringe and jab it into my belly. I don’t swab with alcohol first, because I can’t afford alcohol swabs. The shot hurts despite the needle being a hair’s thin gauge and only a half-inch long. It hurts because it is dull from overuse. Insulin syringes are single use only, but I can’t afford that. I put the biohazard orange cap back on and save the syringe for next time as another bruise forms on my belly. My belly is a constellation of pinpricks and bruises.
I got into the habit of skipping meals to save money. I’d contemplated going low-carb, not because it’s trendy or healthier or better for type1 diabetics (it’s not), but because low carb means less insulin – I could save money! But the diet itself is expensive, so that evening I start boiling water for plain oatmeal. Five bucks for the extra large carton; a meal a day for a month! I could eat like queen if I didn’t spend all my money on prescription copays. But I remind myself as I stir my soggy beige repast that I am lucky to even have insurance.
I am one of the lucky ones, I think, as I roll my vial of insulin gently between my palms to warm it and mix it when it slips from my hands and falls to the floor. I am one of the lucky ones. It shatters on the rust colored tiles and the reek of the hormone that keeps me alive (imagine concentrated Eau de Band-Aid) surrounds me like the Worst Cologne In the World.

The puddle on the floor is a week’s wages.
The puddle on the floor is worth half a month’s rent.
The puddle on the floor is worth two months’ food.
The puddle on the floor is my life.

I sink to the floor next to the puddle and sob. And I am one of the lucky ones.

Some people let themselves go into DKA (Diabetic Ketoacidosis, a near-death state) so they can be taken to the ER. There they will be chastised for not taking their insulin – the term doctors use is “non-compliant”, like we’re parolees failing to meet the terms of our release. Like we’re snorting sugar like blow. But at least with the contempt and the upbraiding comes a free vial or two.
For some this is the only way they know how to get insulin; each incident of DKA doing just a little more damage to the tiny blood vessels that feed their kidneys, to their eyes, their nerves, to their hearts, to their lungs. If they don’t die this time, they’re gambling with their future.
But I’m still a coward. It’ll take another few years before I get pushed far enough to boldly (stupidly) play those odds myself. This time…this time, after three hours of sobbing, I walk to the pharmacy.
Swollen face and red eyes. The cacophony of traffic and sirens and catcalls blend together into aural soup. The buildings, traffic, people around me blurring together too, unreal and waxy like a swirl of melting crayons. I’m not truly seeing or hearing: I am mathing.
What if they won’t refill my prescription early? How much food can I afford when the currency is units of insulin? How long will I last? Maybe a few days? Maybe a week? I don’t actually know exactly how long I’ll live without it, but I’ll start feeling the effects within hours: my vision will blur, my thirst will become unquenchable, nausea and hunger will battle for reign supreme over my tummy. I’ll lose weight rapidly; I have an athletic physique now, but that will disappear almost overnight. I’ll get weaker. I’ll be winded walking a few blocks or climbing a flight of stairs. My muscles will twitch. I’ll vomit. I’ll faint. I’ll hyperventilate as my lungs desperately try to expel the toxins building up in my blood. My fingers will wrinkle until my hands look like a striga’s. My heart will pound. Then something will give way. Maybe a heart attack first. Maybe suffocation. My organs will fail in one order or another. I will die. And it will hurt.
Maybe I can last long enough to scrounge up the money – borrowing, working extra shifts, saving: hey, I think darkly, “If you can’t afford to eat, at least insulin will last longer!” Silver fucking lining.
The florescence of the drugstore rescues me from my mind. I head straight to the pharmacy, and to a pharmacist I’ve never met before. Thank god there’s no line. She is a woman in her forties with wavy auburn hair. In her white coat, she is the first thing I see with clarity. She is pretty. She has freckles.
I ask for a refill. I tell her I broke my bottle. “You’re not due for a refill for a month,” she says.
“Please?” I say…I don’t have anything else to say. I don’t have anything else at all.
She consults her computer.
She makes phone calls.

I pace and try not to look at the fitness magazines, with their diet and exercise advice. I try not to think about how people micromanage their nutrients, count their calories, and run, run, run from the Reaper. I will never be healthy. I am what they fear. I am what they are running from.
The pretty pharmacist tells me there’s nothing she can do. Insurance won’t fill it for four more weeks.
I don’t cry because I have no tears left, but I don’t know what to do, so I collapse against the wall in desperation, my arms wrapped around me, trying to think and trying not to think.
How can insulin cost so much? How can they refuse me when my life literally depends on it?

How can my life be worth so much and so little at the same time?

I don’t know how long I stand frozen (or am I shaking?), against the wall when I feel the hand on my shoulder. I look up at a halo of auburn hair, but I can’t meet the eyes that look at me. She slips a refrigerator-chilled box into my hand, inside, a vial of insulin. “Don’t tell anyone,” she says, and walks away.

x files fic: under the stars (minimal fate required)

or: ways mulder and scully could’ve been happy

for @leiascully‘s challenge: list sort of


The X-Files are never shut down and Scully is never abducted.

They fall into a comfortable rhythm of partnership: an incredible solve rate, an easy repertoire. (He never convinces her to believe in aliens, and she never convinces him not to.) They start spending time together outside of work - getting drinks, watching movies over long-abandoned paperwork. It’s at least two and a half years before Mulder realizes that she is his best friend. (Even over the Gunmen, he thinks about telling her, but how would that go down? They don’t say things like that to each other. She’s only ever called him Fox once, and he’s called her Dana a total of six times before she asked him to stop; what kind of friends are they?)

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Speaking My Language

PAIRING- Aussie reader x Bucky Barnes 


WARNINGS: some swearing, fluff and some aussie lingo that may be lost on you? you can look them up if you are lost. But hopefully it shouldn’t be to alien to some people hahaha

Request from Anon- Can you write an imagine where the reader is Australian but lives in America as a SHIELD agent and is Bucky’s girlfriend, and she doesn’t use Australian slang that often when she’s in the states but when her and Bucky go to visit her family in Australia she falls right back into Australian slang and he’s just so confused??x

So there are a few Aussie words and phrases in this that may be lost on a few people, even though i live in Australia I had to look up a few of them lol anyway i hope you enjoy ! 

Originally posted by 107th-infantry

Growing up in a rural part of one of the largest islands in the word gave you a very closed perspective as a child. Grown up with two older brothers did you no favor’s either. Always picking on you and fighting as siblings do. But it was you’re up brining that was your starter in life as a SHEILD agent. You were always surprised at you currant position working along side the avengers. You couldn’t be more thankful having the opportunity to work with some of the best trained and out of this world people on the plant. Living with two brothers meant that you were use to being a human punching bag and gave as good as you got. You were tough and strong as an Avenger should be. It also lead you to Bucky. 

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Falling like leaves (Not a Request)

Originally posted by pretty-gifs

Note: Pure fluff! Fall fanfiction! Yay another Thor one! Idea came from the lovely @senpaiweird who helped me write something! This is dedicated to her!

Pairing: Thor Odinson x Reader

Words: 1515

Thor Odinson was a very curious man about new things that was in the world of Midgard. He questioned everything, tried new things just to see what it would be like. This world was strange, because they had things he had never seen before and Jane never really showed him the world. After Thor had come back from being gone from Midgard for almost six months Jane told him that she found someone new. Thor, being the good man that he was, respected her decision and allowed her to move on to bigger and better things. Still he was slightly in a depressed mood due to losing her, but that’s when he met (Y/N). She was included into the Avengers while he was away for her powers with the four main elements of water, fire, earth, and winds.

Thor found himself caring for her more than he had ever cared for someone. That’s when he decided to ask her out and much to his surprise she agreed. Now here they are almost a year later in the cold morning of October with the other Avengers eating breakfast. “I have some community service to do today. Rake up the leaves in the park.” (Y/N) said while sipping her glass of juice. “Ew, have fun with that.” Tony comments, looking up from his second cup of coffee as she rolled her eyes. “Jeez thanks. I hope I won’t jump in them like I did when I was a kid.” She chuckled as they others nod. “Jump in the leaves?” Thor asked quirking an eyebrow as she looked back to him from the living room. “Yeah, jump in the leaves.” She grins.

“Why in the world would you do something like that?” Thor questioned with a confused expression on his face that made him look adorable. “For fun..? You’ve never jumped in leaves?” She asked when he shook his head. “I have not tried this jumping of the leaves.” He said as her eyes widened before she stood up. “What! What kind of childhood did you have? A crappy one if you ask me.” She tsked, crossing her arms. “My childhood was just fine. I was fighting off enemies who dared to take foot inside the land of Asgard with ill intentions.” Thor grins as she stared at him for a moment along with everyone else who didn’t know what to say. “Um… Okay, anyway you’re going to come with when I go to the park.” She said excitedly.

“To partake in this jumping of the leaves right?” He asked as she nods. “So you can experience what it means to be a kid.” She chuckles before walking over to him as she offers out her hand. “You will not allow me to do anything else will you?” He asked as she shook her head with a grin. “Of course not, and you love me so much.” She said when he took her hand and stood up. “That shall never be questioned.” He said before they walked towards the elevator. “Have fun, and be save!” Steve calls as (Y/N) smiles. “Can do Cap.” She calls back before the doors closed when she immediately turned to him with a grin. “Ready to have fun?” She asked as he looks to her with a quirked eyebrow.

“You’re definition of fun to my definition of fun are two entirely different scenarios.” Thor said, chuckling softly. “Right sorry not all of us can be Gods.” She comments when he grins. “Snarky. I see why I like your attitude.” He said as she winks before stepping off the elevator. “Now, wait a moment my Lady. Are you not going to this park to clean the leaves?” He asked as she nods. “Yeah, but nobody told me I couldn’t jump in them. Besides afterwards we’ll clean them up and get them out of there.” She said, grinning which caused him to chuckle at her excited demeanor. “Come on.” She started to drag him down the street.

“I am moving my Lady, I am.” He said as she acted like a kid who was going to an amusement park. “Not fast enough.” She huffs when he rolls his eyes before throwing her over his shoulder causing others to look over to him. He started to casually stroll down the street as her entire face flustered when she looked to the people who were staring. “Am I moving sufficiently enough for your standards, my Lady?” He asked with a grin of mischief. “Shut it.” She mumbled not struggling against him, because he did this a lot more than she’d like to admit and he would not put her down until they got to the park.

He finally set her onto her feet at the entrance of the park and much to their surprise it was empty aside from the different colored leaves that littered the green grass. The wind was gently swaying the trees like a dance that caused a smile of awe to spread across both of their faces. She grabbed the rake and the garbage bags so they could start when he looks around the park, frowning. “Strange to see no a single soul is here.” He comments as she nods before shrugging. “Probably posted a sign saying that it was getting cleaned today and to not go in there unless they are the cleanup crew.” She suggested as he nods.

“That seems reasonable.” He comments before she started to rake the leaves up. “Wait a moment my Lady, does this not seem… impractical?” He asked tilting his head as she looks to him. “What do you mean?” She asked. “Well you are raking all of these leaves up… just to jump in them. Will they not spill out and make a mess that you must repeat again?” He questioned as she laughs. “Yeah, but the jumping part makes it all worth it.” She said when he shrugs. “Alright, I guess I shall support your reasonings behind this.” He mumbles as she chuckles going back to raking up the leaves into a giant pile.

Thor looked around the park and before too long she was done considering it was a smaller park. “There.” She huffs in happiness before looking to him. “Ready?” She asked when he shrugged. “As I’ll ever be I suppose.” He grins causing her to roll her eyes before she turned him around from the leaf pile and stood next to him, facing the same direction. “Alright, on the count of three.” She said taking his hand before counting back when she jerked him back as they both tumbled into the leaves. Some flew up into the air as they scattered on the ground when Thor and (Y/N) were laughing beneath the piles of colors.

“That… That was enjoyable! I have never felt such excitement for something so simple!” He exclaims with pride and happiness swelling on his face. She covered her mouth laughing at his adorable expression when he stood up and helping her from the ground, dusting themselves off. “We must do this again!” He said as she giggles, watching him beam like a child getting a new toy. “Yeah? See I told you.” (Y/N) nods when he picked her up by her hips as she gasped. “I shall never question your stories of amusement again! This has been ecstatic!” He bellows before setting her back down only to pull her into a kiss by cupping her face.

She chuckles, kissing back before pulling away as she picked up the rake. “One more time?” She asked biting her lip. “Another!” He demands excitedly as she giggles before they collect the leaves while some of them were crushed from the fall most of them were fine. Once more they raked up the leaves and fell into the pile, laughing like idiots over something so small. Yet it is the small things in life that people should enjoy the most, small little moments in time that could mean everything. Thor had helped clean up the leaves and picked the leaves from her hair with a chuckle of delight. “There is so much that I have to learn from Midgard. I love it!” He grins.

“Come on, let’s go get something to eat. I’m cold and starving.” She said as he nods when she looks to him. “You ever have a snowball fight in Winter?” She asked when his face once more held confusion. “Snowball fight? What is this?” He asked as her eyes lit up. “Oh. My. Goodness. The moment snow hits the ground of this park Avengers are having a snowball fight! It’s happening! I’m serious!” She said when he chuckles cupping her face. “You are adorable when you get excited.” He chuckles. “You’re adorable when you learn new Midgard things.” She resorts as he laughs. “I have you to thank for that.” He said before they went out of the park, throwing the garbage bags away as they started walking down the street. Oh, an Avenger snowball fight will definitely be something to remember.

Thor Tag: @deputy-orange-juice @txcountrybelle @ladydork

Permanent Tag: @kanupps06 @lehumbletrashcan @hortonhearsahoeblr @madamrubrum @tillielynn16 @ididntasktogetmadedidi @eliza-hamilton-helpless @archy3001 @inselaire @breezy1415 @tremendouslyelegantstrawberry@donttalktomewhenimreading @txcountrybelle @i-am-a-dragon @abbywro-blog @shayna-winchester @thomashiddlestonloveloki

snoozingcat  asked:

i'm not feeling well (so just like the last time I sent you a crappy day prompt, I think). I have a sore throat like you wouldn't believe, so-- maybe something where 1/2 of stevetony loses their voice? or goes off grid during a mission and scares the bejeesus out of the other. hope you feel better soon!

aw yuck. i hope this helps!

The fiasco is Tony’s fault.

He’s second in command, so it’s his job to tell Steve he’s being a moron when he’s being a moron. And going on a mission after nearly being choked out on a mission two days prior is being a moron.

But then, what kind of moron does that make Tony for not putting his foot down and benching him?

Supreme moron.

Steve’s voice has only been audible over the comms because they’re such good quality. He’s nearly incomprehensible in a non-tech enhanced conversation because the bruising around his trachea was so bad he’s about one yell away from losing his voice entirely.

Which, again, is why Tony is the Supreme Moron.

Everything is going fine until the swarms of A.I.M. lackeys start riding Tony’s ass with laser cannons. He has to pull his focus from keeping-an-eye-on-everyone-and-especially-Steve to making-A.I.M.-agents-sorry-they-ever-signed-up-for-this. 

That is, naturally, when he a) loses track of Steve and b) hears him attempt to yell something. He only gets three syllables out before his voice gives up the ghost and all Tony hears is his raspy breathing.

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A Letter To My Love

Requested by anon

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Summary: In a world where when you write on your hand, the message shows up on your soulmate’s hand too, it should be relatively easy to find them. They could even be on the other side of the coffee shop from you.

A/N: I’ve never written a soulmate AU before, so this could be terrible. I kind of broke the fourth wall a bit at one point, because i’m a rebel like that

Originally posted by imaginesforlifetime

(Not my gif or pic)

“I don’t get why this spider guy fascinates you so much, (Y/N/N),” you best friend told you, staring at where your face was currently hidden behind a newspaper, the front page sporting a blurry picture of the now famous hero. You rolled your eyes, folding the newspaper and taking one more look at the photo.
“It’s really interesting!” you argued. “He’s like our neighbourhood’s equivalent of Iron Man or Captain America! We finally have our own superhero!”
Your friend raised her eyebrows, not buying it. “The guy’s nothing on the Avengers. He runs around in spandex, for god’s sake.”
“So does Cap!”
You heard a chuckle from behind you, and you turned to meet a pair of soft brown eyes. The boy smiled slightly at you, a smile that you returned almost instantly.
“Hey,” you said slowly. “I’m sorry to bother you, but what do you think of Spider-man?”
The boy screwed up his face in thought for a moment, running a hand through his already messy dark brown hair. You found yourself staring, until your friend kicked you under the table with a knowing smirk.
“He’s pretty cool, I guess,” he said eventually. “I saw him battling that lizard guy a while ago. The guy can fight, I’ll give him that.”
You shot your friend a smug look. “I told you so.”
The guy cleared his throat, bringing your attention back to him. “Look, would you maybe like to go out for coffee sometime? I’ll let you fangirl about Spidey all you like.”
You chuckled, feeling your cheeks turning red. “That would be nice. I’m (Y/N), by the way.”
“Peter. Here, I’ll give you my number.” He pulled a pen from behind his ear, taking your left hand shyly and scribbling his number on the back. “I’ll see you around, (Y/N).”
You nodded slightly, smiling and biting your lip. “Sounds great.”
It wasn’t until Peter got home that he noticed the familiar number scrawled across his own left hand. Had Aunt May really done that again? he wondered in frustration. She was adamant that he’d one day forget his mobile number when it mattered, and was always writing it on his hand. She’d even added a tiny red love heart this time.

It wasn’t until you got home and went to copy Peter’s number into your contacts that you realised with a jolt that the writing had smudged. You could only make out the first two digits.
Cursing your own stupidity, you fell back on your bed and glared at the smudged blue ink, the tiny red blob the only remnant of the love heart you’d stupidly drawn. He had been cute, really cute, and now you had no way of contacting him. Unless
You’d always marked the soulmate theory as bullshit. That your soulmate could write on their arm, and it would appear on yours, seemed ridiculous to you, like something straight out of a young adult novel or a crappy fanfiction. It had to be worth a try though, right?
You grabbed a black biro from your desk, nearly dropping it in your haste and excitement. Pulling the cap off and biting your lip, you took a few seconds to think what to write.

Peter frowned slightly as his left hand began to tingle. It wasn’t in the Spidey sense, it was more like someone tickling the back of his hand with a feather. He tugged his hoodie sleeve up to peer at the skin. What he saw made a grin spread across his face.

Anyone there?

He searched his pockets and behind his ears for a pen, and cursed under his breath when his search proved fruitless. His eyes scanned his desk, again finding nothing to write with. His soulmate was finally writing to him, and he couldn’t even reply. What a brilliant first impression to make.

You sighed in defeat as no answer came. You should have known it would be a stupid theory. Maybe you just didn’t have a soulmate. It had been a longshot anyway; your soulmate would have had to be Peter for it to work, and you barely knew the guy. There was no way you’d get someone as nice and cute as him as your soulmate, you weren’t that lucky.

Months passed, and you forgot about Peter. You were sitting in your favourite coffee shop, resting your head against the cool glass window and doodling absent-mindedly on your hand as you watched the rain trickling down the window. A raised voice on the other side of the shop caught your attention.
“Hey, this dude’s soulmate’s drawing on his hand!”
Your eyes widened; it couldn’t be, could it?
Grabbing your pen with shaking fingers, you started drawing the first thing that came to mind. A symbol you’d seen in blurry pictures in the newspaper, and once on a red and blue clad chest swinging through the city.
“His soulmate’s drawn the Spider-man symbol!”
You got to your feet, making your way slowly to where your soulmate, whoever he is, was hidden by the small crowd that had gathered around his table.
“Write something back!” someone urged him. Instead of pushing through the crowd to see him, you waited, staring at your hand and holding your breath.

Hey Spider Girl

You giggled, a smile spreading across your face. The crowd turned and stared at you, slowly reaching their conclusions as they saw you grinning at your hand. You looked up slowly to get your first look at your soulmate.
Or maybe it was your second look?
“Peter?” you asked incredulously, your smile so wide now that your jaw hurt. “That was you, right?” you asked, showing him the back of your hand.
Peter got to his feet, grinning sheepishly as he showed you the matching messages and drawings on his arm.
“Hey Spider Girl,” he said with a smile, taking your hand in his.

A/N: This is the first soulmate AU I’ve ever written! Please tell me in my ask what you think, your feedback means the world to me!

You’re my favorite song

Prompt: This by Ed Sheeran? Or lucky by Jason Mraz? For the song imagines?

A/N: I love those songs, and I couldn’t decide for one, so I made a mashup, sort of. Send requests, I hope you like this one. Sorry for the crappy title. 

Warnings: fluff.


I’m not a funny girl, I just say stuff. On the other hand, I’m quite clumsy and very spontaneous. Those abilities were part of the decision of giving me a radio show. I had worked hard for it, I loved the idea of being part of the laughs in the middle of the rush hour. I liked make people happy.

“Hey, babe, how’s it going?” Chris asked. I smiled. This man made my clumsiness and fan girl goes from zero to one thousand. He was just getting home after a long, long press tour. Well, it was two weeks that felt like forever.

“I’m still at work. Missing you. And also about to go crazy because today’s guest decided to cancel” I sighed. I heard his amusing laugh.

“Hey, it’s not funny! I have thirty minutes or less to get someone in the show. I should actually hang up. I’ll see you in a bit, because I’m going to lose my job, yay! Love you”

“You’re crazy, woman. I love you too”. After that, I started to scroll on my contacts list. Shit. I was so screwed.

“Y/n? We have someone, he’s going to be here soon” my producer told, I sighed.

“That’s good! Who am I going to introduce?” he smiled.

“Chris Evans”


“You set me up!” I told him when I saw him walking on the studio. He didn’t pay attention to my complaining. He grabbed me and kissed me. it was one of those kissed. Where your jead goes backward, his hands around my waist. He smiled against my lips. Yep. It was one of those kiss that takes you back to life.

“I missed you so much, I wanted to see you as soon as possible. Can you blame a man that it’s so in love?” I smiled and put my arms around his neck. I was so hypnotized by him.

“Of course not” he leaned and almost touch my lips.

“On air in one minute” I heard someone. He kissed my forehead and grabbed my hand. This was going to be interesting.


“And that was the amazing Adele, I’m such a fan. But you already knew that since I play in every block. Also, there’s someone that knows that, our today’s guest, the one and only, just like Adele’s song, Chris Evans. Welcome, captain” I said. He laughed.

“Thank you for having me and I do. I know that. God” he sighed “I know that” he repeated and we both laughed.

“Hello, everyone, this is y/n in the company of Chris Evans who turns out to have another blockbuster” I added and the phones started to ring like crazy.

“It’s not a big deal. But it’s a great movie. You should go to watch it”

“Oh, I’d love to, but my boyfriend’s never here, can you believe that? I can’t go to the movies without him”

“Bastard!” he replied.

“Alright, Chris, let’s take a call. Hello, this is y/n and Chris Evans”

“Oh my God, you’re like the cutest couple ever, you’re relationship goals forever” a girl said almost too fast. Was she even breathing?

“Well, have you seen her? She’s got the cutest on her own, I just smile” Chris spoke. I felt an “aww” running through my body.

“I agree. What’s your name, doll?”


“Hello, Sara” we both said.

“Oh, my God. I can’t believe this” she started again and Chris laughed.

“To make it more believable, ask anything you’d like to know” I added. I admired Chris, even when he was sitting a bit away from me, he was in the right spot to be looked at. He was wearing his Boston cap, old jeans and grown beard.

“How did you realize you were in love with her, Chris?” I wide-opened my eyes.

“Yeah, Chris? How did you?” I cheered and put my elbow in the table and used my hand as support for my face.

“That’s easy. She was making pancakes. I remember that day. I got straight to her home after a while of being away. We never missed communication. We always talked on the phone and in one conversation, I told her that I wanted to bad pancakes. So, when I got to her place. She’d invited me for dinner. And that was our dinner. I loved how she was dancing while cooking. I felt like I could watch that forever, you know? And knowing that she’d take care of me through the smallest details was just wonderful” I was looking at him while I held my breath. I remembered that moment. We were friends back then. He was just getting started with the whole Captain America phenomenon.

“Oh, my God! That’s like the sweetest story ever, guys, congratulations”

“Thank you!” we spoke at the same time.

“Alright, I bet you still have a lot of questions, but let’s move to the music. Here’s Ed Sheeran with his newest hit, we’ll be back, don’t move!” the on air sign turned off. I sighed. I stood up just to kiss Chris. I heard a bunch of awwws and I smiled against his lips.

“I didn’t know”

“That’s how I remember you when I’m away”

“That happened when we were best friends” I added. He smiled.

“I know, it’s funny, huh? I guess I realized how happy and lucky I was to have you in my life even when I was overseas, but I confirmed it that very moment” I kissed him and got back to my place when I saw the signs of my producer.

“And we’re back as I promised. Here’s Chris Evans as my secretary, so make your calls, let’s see who’s on the line, hello?” I spoke fast.

“Hello, this is Anna”

“Hey, Anna? How are you?” Chris asked.

“Great, I can’t believe I’m talking to you!”

“Well, you are!” he laughed and settled on his chair. His hand ran through his beard. He was playing with a bottle of water.

“But, the question is for y/n” I threw my hands in the air.

“Ha! In your face, Evans. Shoot, Anna” I laughed while I looked at Chris.

“What is like being in love with Chris Evans?” I thought my answer.

“Well, it’s very easy. Before getting into this relationship, we had a friendship, so we already knew all the crap that makes relationships fall apart. And he is different from most men I know. I realized that this is what actually feels like falling in love. He has shown me when someone cares, that love it’s not only about making sacrifices. It’s taking risks together, growing together, and being silly together. He’s easy to love. And come on! Have you seen him?” I laughed.

“Anna?” he questioned. “I’m going to kiss my girlfriend, because I love how corny she is and how red her cheeks are turning” now, he stood up and kissed.

“You’re so sweet!” she screamed.

“Thank you, hope you call soon, honey!” I added. God. This was so crazy. But I knew something for sure. He was my mate. My better half.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing, I just love you” I said “and I just said that on air. Let’s go to commercials, we’ll be back with the newest, coolest, Adelest hits.”

“I love you too!” Chris screamed before we were off air.

anonymous asked:

youtube! jungkook "Close your eyes and hold out your hand" in so excited you're back you've been missed my dude

Ary’s Drabble Bonanza: August ‘17 Edition < 008 >
Character Jeon Jeongguk (Jungkook)
AU YouTuber 

“Is it on? Alright. Hello! I mean, aloha, guys!” 

“What a dork,” you mutter, laughing and shaking your head. 

“I heard that,” Jeongguk says, looking at you through the camera. “Anyway. As you can probably see, we’re still in Hawaii right now, and hot damn is it nice out here, you guys. Stunning. Oh, and _____’s here too, I guess.” 

Wow. Thanks,” you say, rolling your eyes, but waving at the camera regardless. “How’s it going, guys?” 

“Today is day… uh, three?” 

“Yep. Day three.” 

“Day three of the Adventures of Jeon and _____ are well under way. Today, we’ve got snorkelling on the agenda, which reminds me,” Jeongguk says, padding over to the bed where you’re currently lying, holding your phone over your head. “I need to charge my GoPro. Hold this for a sec, babe.” 

You take the camera from him, adjusting the view finder to see your reflection before continuing on from where Jeongguk left off. 

“We’re also going hiking up a volcano crater so, uh, pray for me guys,” you say. “And pray for Jeongguk too, because he’s gonna have to carry me on his back when I get tired. And to top that off, we’re going on another sunset cruise.” 

“I’ve also heard there are nude beaches around here,” Jeongguk says, putting his charging camera down onto the side table before jumping onto the bed next to you. “So if you guys know where they are, comment down below and let me know so we can go to one before we leave.” 

Scrunching up your nose, you smack his chest. 

“We’re not going to a nude beach, you nerd.” 

“That’s what you think, babe.” 

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Is It Arranged Love? Chanyeol x Reader [Requested] Pt. 1

By: Gen

Word Count: 3344

Genre: Fluff

Request: Female reader x Chanyeol or Baekhyun where in you are an international idol and you were paired to them in We Got Married and ends up falling for you. A little fluffy in the end if it’s okay. Thanks!

A/N: I got you fam!! Sorry for the long wait. Lots of research and switch up of writers… Here it is!! Part 2 Coming Soon!!!!

Originally posted by chanshine

Chanyeol POV:

My legs shivered as they came in contact with the cold bench. I made sure to have a content look on my face at all times. It would be on broadcast soon, many fans are already angry when they found out I was gonna be on the show, We Got Married.

I fiddled my fingers, thinking of the mystery girl I am supposed to be married to. Well, at least in the show.

“I hope she’s nice…and beautiful,” I remember admitting in the interview, “I hope she can take care of herself, but at times I can be the one to care for her,” I shared.

Waiting for the camera crew to get ready, a man brought me a box. I muttered a quick ‘thank you’ and curled my linen-covered fingers around the edge of the box cap. As I started to pull it up, a makeup artist almost screamed. I look up with panic, she bows and apologizes, realizing that she had caused a scene in the small park.

“You can’t open it until we film, Chanyeol,” she voiced.

“O-ok…” damn, why am I so awkward, I think to myself. I let the box go and put it to the side of me. I clasped my hands together, attempting to avoid looking in the box.

“Okay,” the director says, “let’s get this started.” I stand up. I brush the imaginary dust off of my coat.

“ACTION,” yells the director. A big grin shines on my face. I have to present myself well to my fans.

“Oh, I’m so nervous,” I say, honestly. I hear my stomach growl faintly, but it seems like the entire film crew could tell I was hungry.

“Maybe once I meet my wife, we can go get something to eat,” I anticipated.

I shuffled around quietly, trying to figure out what to do.

“Chanyeol-shi,” whispered the same makeup artist, “get the box.”

A box? Oh! The box!! I remember. I pick it up and finally get to lift the red covering off. In the box was an iPhone, a red scarf, and a tiny note with a poem:

'Use the tech
to find me
as I am the one with the freezing neck’

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All I’d Ever Need

Originally posted by bennylafitte

Characters - Benny x Reader

Summary - Benny went on a hunt that you were supposed to go with him on, and when you find him, you’re left to pick up the pieces.

Word Count - 2,217

Warnings - Angst, fluffy fluff-fluff, & waffles. (extra warning tag in the tags below, since I want to make sure I cover all my warning bases here)

A/N - This fic is a part of @torn-and-frayed ‘s Songs of Supernatural Season 2 Challenge! The song I chose was Can’t Get Enough of Your Love Babe by Barry White. This is my first Benny oneshot, so definitely be sure to leave some feedback if you liked it!

The ride back to the bunker was silent, the hunt you just completed weighing heavy on your mind. You were two states away from home, driving the oldest truck you’d ever laid eyes on. You bounced with the motion of the truck, the crappy road jarring the ride with every little bump. Your companion sat slumped against the door, blood soaking his shirt and pants. You grabbed a blood bag from your cooler and snipped the iv tube, shoving the bag in front of his face. He gave you a disgruntled look before wrapping his lips around the tube, drinking the crimson liquid. After a while of drinking, he grabbed the bag from your hand, sitting up further. He still clutched at his side, the flow of blood stopped now, starting to dry dark against his shirt.

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The Flaw Of Belief - (Bucky x Reader)

Summary: Y/N and Bucky fight over who can be more spiteful, who hates who more. Neither really mean it, but Bucky might just win.

Word Count - 1033

Warnings - maybe mild swearing? questioning of self worth I guess


Part Two. Part Three. Part Four. Part Five. Part Six. Part Seven.

Steve sighed once again, turning to Sam. 

“Can’t you, I don’t know, pick her up and carry her away?" 

Steve suggested wearily. 

Sam huffed. "That might be our only option at this point, I’m running out of ideas!”

“Should we-?”

“I guess we have to.” Sam resigned, pushing up out of his seat, a tired Cap following him towards the harsh voices that could be heard from the kitchen. 

“Pass me my fucking orange Bucky.”


Oh my god.” Sam muttered.

As they entered the kitchen, they came across you standing there with your hands on your hips, looking up at Bucky, who was currently holding an orange way above your head.

“Why, Bucky?” Steve frowned, wondering why the hell would he deprive you of a simple orange.

“Yeah, why Bucky?” You taunted. “Do you even know what an orange is for, old man?” You sneered.

He smiled, but not the nice kind of smile, he smiled a smile that felt like knife sliding beneath your flesh. “I know plenty of things. For example, I know you turned your comm off on the last mission.” He spoke smugly, eyes flickering to Steve.

“You did? You said you lost connection!” Steve spoke, disappointed.

Oh hell no. If you were going down, Bucky was going down with you. Right down to the 9th circle of hell.

“Bucky, tell me,” you said sweetly, which of course made him squint suspiciously, “have you ever read a mission report?”

“You don’t read my mission reports?!” Steve’s scandalised voice sounded from behind you, but you didn’t turn around, locked with Bucky’s steely blue eyes. 

Sam had to stifle a laugh at how offended Steve looked.

“And yet I still know what I’m doing out there!” Bucky protested. Steve shook his head, not wanting to hear any more, and walked out, Sam hiding a grin behind his hand following.

“Do you? Last I checked, I got shot because you couldn’t cover properly.” You reminded him, and he stepped closer. You took a step back as he spoke. 

“At least I have a use beside getting shot. Why is it my fault you couldn’t deflect it?” His eyes darkened with anger.

“I was busy extracting information, I didn’t realise hacking into databases required hand to hand combat. I could’ve deflected it if my cover did his job!" 

You took another step back but he only advanced further, until your spine hit the cold counter. He leaned in as you leaned back. "I did my job, I know what I’m doing out there!” He growled, his voice quaking with rage and his brow sinking deeper and deeper.

“What, and I don’t?!” You replied with an equal amount of rage. He leaned in, and his cold stare gave you shivers as his cerulean gaze pierced you.

“No, you don’t. I don’t know why you’re on missions, when we could take Wanda or Nat. Do you really think you can compare to them? Do you really think you fit in with them? Have you ever noticed in a group, people will only listen to them? It’s because people know their worth. It’s because they belong. And so do I. You’re the Avenger that doesn’t make sense.” He snarled.

You swallowed, looking anywhere but his eyes. They say eyes are the window to the soul and the last thing you wanted was Bucky Barnes to know you.

To know how much he hurt you.

To know how right he was.

“Let me go, James.” You spoke hoarsely, devoid of emotion. Your gaze remained fixed over his shoulder, seeming far away to him.

“Why Y/N? Can’t handle the truth?” He taunted. You pushed off the counter, barging his shoulder as you shoved past him and out of the room.

Walking down the hallway, you marked each footstep with a curse. And every single curse landed on the broad shoulders of James Barnes.

When he arrived at the compound, you really felt for him. He was so silent, so mistrusting, you knew what it felt like to put your trust in the wrong people, it was difficult to open up again. He never spoke, didn’t utter a word, for months. All you wanted was to make this man, this broken man, feel okay, to give him a sense of normalcy. People looked at him like he would snap their necks, and he probably could, but he wouldn’t. And you seemed to be one of the only ones that understood that.

He was misunderstood.

He was lost.

His first words out of his mouth were telling you to shut up.

It had blindsided you, if you were being honest with yourself. You had felt your throat go a little dry, wondering what you’d done.

You thought back to whenever you couldn’t sleep, you and Steve would sit until the dawn, watching crappy comedy shows and listening to Steve’s stories of the 40’s. You revelled in the way his eyes would glow like embers when he mentioned his best friend. You had grown to live, to love James Barnes vicariously - through Steve. The tales he told of the little boy who love to cause trouble, the gentleman who wooed every dame in Brooklyn with his boyish charms and slick dance moves, the best friend who stuck up for Steve and got dragged into every fight the tiny punk could cause made you feel lightheaded. 

Where was that James Barnes?

Because this one, the one who told you to shut up whenever you spoke, who rolled his eyes whenever he saw you, who insulted and belittled you, who made you cry and doubt your self worth, who confirmed all of your fears and insecurities, who let you get shot- 

You weren’t fond of him.

And that was a huge disappointment.

Because you’d waited so long, stayed up nights with Steve trying to find the wandering Winter Soldier, busted places with Sam, hoping this might finally be the place he’d settled. You’d waited so long to meet Bucky, and you felt like you didn’t get Bucky. You’d been cheated.

You’d made a mistake. You believed in James Barnes.

You’d expected to admire him, and all you’d gotten was an adversary.

TAGS -  @awinterloveuniverse @this-isjustme @oneshot-shit @sleepretreat @annadier @nea90sweetie @itsemmyb

slide into my ask box if you wanna be tagged ;)

Blast From The Past: Part 22

Pairing: Reader x Bucky
Word Count: 2.4K
Warnings: Angst, fluff, little bit of smut?, swearing

A/N: So I’m still not comfortable with writing full smut, so just a little snippet. 

Set a month after part 21.

Might be a few days until I post the next part, I’ve got so many assignments, and I’ve got to figure out how I want this series to end.

Feedback is always appreciated. Let me know if you want to be added to the tags list.

Part 1 // Part 21

It had been two months since you skipped out on your friends. As much as you felt terrible for doing it, you knew it was the right thing. They didn’t need to be dealing with you when you were broken.

At first you’d stayed in the city, not feeling ready to leave just yet. But as soon as you were caught in the background of a selfie, you knew that the jig was up. Tony would find it, and your friends would come for you. So you decided you needed to leave, go cross country.

You’d decided on New Orleans. It was where your mother was originally from, or that’s what your father had told you. Who knew if anything he told you about her was true or not. Either way, New Orleans had been your home for almost a month now, and things were getting better.

Your nightmares were less frequent, and you were able to distract yourself everyday to stop the constant dwelling. You found yourself a crappy, run down apartment. Every floorboard squeaked and the facets constantly dripped, but it was mundane and regular. Nothing that anyone would batt an eyelid at; just like your job. You were now a waitress in a little cafe, the pay was crap, but the people were nice. You were living a normal life, or appearing to.

Everyday you thought about Bucky, even when you were trying your hardest not to. What he was doing, how he was coping, if he’d met a pretty girl yet that was uncomplicated and didn’t have blood on her hands. You missed him like crazy; his smile, his laugh, his smell, how peacefully he slept, the way your name rolled off his tongue as it were crafted just for him to say. You wanted to see him, just one more time, but you knew that for him to move on, you had to stay away, no matter how well you had been recovering. You were still a monster. Just now you were a monster who was masquerading as a normal person.

“Wendy? Are you listening?” Grace’s voice broke through your thoughts of Bucky,

“What? I’m sorry,” you gave her an apologetic smile, looking up from the empty plate you’d been absent-mindedly scrubbing for 5 minutes straight.

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Summary: Steve finds you dancing in your room to The Nutcracker, so he takes you for a surprise.

Pairing: Steve x Reader

Word Count: ~1700

Warnings: Language, probably crappy writing, Christmas fluff

Based off this request by @iwillbeinmynest: So, the reader loves ballet (maybe she used to dance or just enjoys it idk, up to you) and Steve catches her dancing around her room to the Nutcracker music. He know how much she loves it so for Christmas he surprises her with tickets to go see it live in New York and then fluff ensues. Maybe a kiss. Feel free to edit it however you’d like! Thank you so much!

A/N: This is my first Steve x Reader fic, so sorry if it’s terrible. Hope you all enjoy some more Christmas fluff!

Originally posted by adayofballet

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Imagine This- PG Rated (Chris Evans x Reader)

Originally posted by lufelicity

Prompt: hello bby! I had another cute imagine Idea and was wondering if you could do it! I love your writing so much. could you do fluffy Chris where he catches you reading imagines while he’s been away filming?

Word Count: 1033 words

A/N: So I went and wrote a 2000 word smutty fic along the same lines as this prompt. Then realised the prompt said it was meant to be fluffy, and so wrote another one, a totally PG one. So this one is happening and then, tonight, I will post the smutty, R rated one. For now, enjoy the cuteness. Thanks to the sweetest @ilikebands23 for the prompt! Keep sending them in lovelies. 

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anonymous asked:

How about some insane af Danny (in a Dan way) and how the Avengers realize they can't do anything against him?

There wasn’t a specific point you could pin down and analyze. Danny going…Dark had been a buildup of several, countless things. Although, it was sooner or later bound to happen to the twenty-five year old.

First it started out with the nightmares. Both from the ghost fighting, villain fighting, and from when he first got his powers. Then it was probably when he was almost seventeen and his parents turned on him once they found out he was half ghost. Of course, he was already a part-time member of the Avengers, so he had somewhere to go. But home wasn’t it.

Tucker had been killed in the field. Stabbed by Taskmaster, and by the time they had gotten him to a hospital it was already too late. Danny had been 18.

Next was Sam, his beloved girlfriend and hopefully future wife. He will never get tat chance ever again. Nobody knew him like Sam had, and now that she was gone, he started to get irritable, defensive, reclusive. She had drowned at Niagara Falls while they were saving the world with the Fantastic Four. Danny hadn’t spoken to them since. He had been twenty years old.

Then, of all the people he thought were most protected, the one person who could never die on him…Had.

Jazz had made something of herself. She was one of the world’s top psychologists at the young age of twenty-nine, and was world famous. On top of that she helped him get through his PTSD and self-guilt while also occasionally helping from the sidelines. Then Vlad had shown up…

It was probably an accident, Danny knew. Vlad had never tried to murder Jazz. But he had gotten more ruthless through the years, and his slow mental decline sped up when Jazz uttered her last words in his arms.

After that, Vlad was nowhere to be seen. Plasmius or Masters.

Danny had made sure of it.

The Avengers , his friends, had tried helping, but they couldn’t. Not really. And when Danny realized that, he became unhinged.

Probably permanently.

He started killing the villains. First it was the Red Skull, who had been just as surprised as the rest of the world, who, at first, had considered it a win. No more Nazis to deal with. Then it was Taskmaster. Partly for Tucker, partly because it made him feel good inside. Watching his skull be crushed beneath his foot had been to satisfying. And when he possessed Loki and choked himself to death? Priceless. Danny hadn’t had that much fun in years.

A part of him kept expecting the Avengers or Clockwork to stop him, but Clockwork stayed in the Zone, and the Avengers couldn’t even touch him.

When the Thing got in his way, he turned the boulder-like man to pebbles.

Several heroes tried and failed to take Danny down. But the ghost boy was seven feet tall and made of solid muscle. Even his parents came out of their hiding spots in Amity and tried taking a shot at him. Killing them had been a weight off of his shoulders. Like a type of closure.

He was confused why people thought they could take over the world when they were this weak. Many of them couldn’t even take over New York. It took Danny maybe five minutes and his biggest Ghostly Wail ever to make the city crumple.

Dr. Doom had found him, ad had tried a partnership, but it quickly ended when Danny half drowned him before snapping his neck.

He didn’t know when his eyes turned red, but he thought he looked better like that anyway.

“There’s gotta be some way we can take him down,” Clint said. They were in an underground hideout they had never told Danny about. It was him, Cap, Iron Man, Natasha, Nick Fury, Johnny Storm, and a couple of Defenders, and about a quarter of the X-Men. Thor was in Asgard getting together an army as they spoke. But while they were too busy trying to make a plan, Phantom-a name the whole world had learned to fear-was taking down the Russian Empire.

“We weaken him and send in Thor’s army. Then, when he’s distracted, we go in for the killing blow,” Fury stated.

“Wait, what?” Spider-Man sounded appalled. “We can’t just kill him! He used to be our friend! Maybe we should try helping him instead!”

“Was he your friend when he dropped a building on your aunt?” Logan snapped. “Or when he turned Ben into a crappy pile of rocks? Or how about when he murdered the Hulk in cold blood? He was friends with Big Green too. Parker-he’s not our friend anymore. He’s a cold blooded killer that needs to be taken down, and the only way to do that is if he dies.”

“But he’s already half-dead,” Natasha stated. “What about his Fenton Thermos?”

“Too weak to hold him. He’ll break through within minutes, and that’s if we’re lucky,” Iron Man replied. “And none of the ghosts will help us, they’re all to afraid of him. Except for maybe Clockwork, but he’s not allowed to get involved.”

“I find that I can break a few rules if it means sparring humanity.”

They all whirled around at the ghost who had appeared before them, his purple cloak billowing behind him despite the lack of a draft.

“And we’re just supposed to site here and trust whatever you have to say?” Luke Cage said defensively.

“I understand your concern. But he’s a sort of pupil of mine, therefore he is my responsibility. I should have gotten involved sooner. However, ever since he wiped out the Observants I am free to roam as I please. Gather your armies. We will meet him in Denver tomorrow.”

“How do you know?” Beast asked.

“I’m the Master of Time. I see everything.”


Thor was there, and so were the Warriors Three and Lady Sif, the most fiercest warriors in Asgard. Along with the Asgardians came Frost Giants and dwarves, all equipped for battle. On top of that, every hero left alive through the carnage that Phantom had caused was standing along side them, ready to take down their former friend.

They were ready.


At the end of it all, a good portion of them hadn’t made it. Several Asgardians and Frost Giants had lost their lives. The Fantastic Four and Defenders were no more, and there was only a handful of X-Men left. The Avengers had lost quite a few, but had the largest remaining super-group. Iron Man, Cap, Thor, Vision, and Dr. Strange were among the very few that were left.

Danny Phantom’s still body laid in the middle of the crater. His eyes were closed, and he was no longer breathing. Clockwork had assured them that he was dead, and he would stay dead. He had already surpassed his full ghost form, and now he was ended.

All of the heroes watched as two white rings split at his waist and engulfed him in the light, until it was just Danny. He had the same black hair, but now there was a white stripe down the middle. He was wearing his favorite hoodie that Sam had given him, and a pair of dirty jeans and old sneakers. He looked at peace. But also like he died to young.

Every single hero standing around the crater had seen themselves and their colleagues going out in a blaze of glory. Not in a spiel of incurable madness that could only be stopped by death.

Clockwork floated into the crater gently, his head hanging. He slowly, but carefully, picked Danny up bridal style and floated back up. Iron Man didn’t say anything, but the ghost’s tears didn’t escape his attention. It must have been hard on Clockwork the most. After all, he had known Danny the longest, had helped him guide through the right and wrong.

Only to give the killing blow.

“I can help rebuild your cities, but I cannot being back the lives that were lost. I can only hope that, with time, they will return to you on the astral plane.”

And just like that, Clockwork and Danny were gone.


Okay but high key I had to stop halfway through because I got to emotional. The next one won’t be as depressing though, I promise!

Soggy saturday six.......

1. So I just came from a memorial service for a man who was a Kodiak legend, for whom I had worked a few years back on what was lovingly called “the gut barge”. Kodiak processes a lot of pollock, which ends up mostly as surimi, aka “imitation crab meat”. Well when there is a lot being processed, often the plant that deals with the guts, aka biodry, gets overwhelmed and cannot process it all. So, the guts of the processed pollock (and undersized pollock, and the occasional salmon) get placed on a WW2 era landing craft with giant, open topped tanks, taken 5 miles out and dumped. The actual work is pretty fun and easy-you popped the hatch on the tanks, and out came the volume of yuck. After most had drained, I would climb in and spray most of the remaining offal out of the tanks and the surrounding deck. I know it sounds gross, but there was only one part of the job that was miserable-keeping eagles off the boat.

Now before I say what I’m about to say, let me be perfectly clear- I love nature. I love being able to go to work and see the grandeur that is Alaska and the ocean. I do my best to always return to the water fish that we do not intend to harvest, and I do my best to be kind to birds.

But I hate eagles (I’d say the Eagles, but I’m not the dude, and this is not a lebowski blog).

Seriously, for being our national bird, they are one of nature’s biggest trash birds. Here, you can’t not run into them at any given juncture in an outdoor activity. Add a big pile of protein like the gut barge, and they become a nuisance. Like bad. At one point I counted 35 on deck. Now I know what you are thinking, that’s kinda cool-where’s the problem? Problem is that if one or more of these buzzards become injured or observed eating off of your vessel, it becomes a national marine fisheries service issue. And a United States Fish and Wildlife service issue. And when it becomes an issue, each violation lightens ones wallet by 10k. Yikes, right?

So what does this have to do with a funeral? My enduring memory of the boat owner is that of him our on deck, with a broom, shooing away bald eagles, all of whom giving him the look like, “what is this little native jackass doing, trying to scare us away. ….OH S#@T, HE’S MAKING CONTACT, FLY AWAY, FLY AWAY!!!!”. Right then and there, watching him shoosh eagles with a broom, I knew he was a nut. But a good nut. And he will be missed.

2. I am good friends with his daughter, who put together an amazing slide show of pics her dad. She and I talked for a minute, and it reminded me of how this last couple of weeks has seriously been crappy, and that we are approaching the age where we are losing our parents.

Mom was the first one. After changing doctors, she had an appointment with a new fella from Wisconsin. He did a battery of tests on what was assumed to be an inflamed lymph node (thanks to a bite from a hobo spider), which occurred on a Tuesday afternoon. On Wednesday morning, they called her and told her they needed to come in the following morning for further tests. No waiting, no messing around, and urgent. Fortunately the next morning after a few more tests, it was simply a soft tissue tumor and benign.

Then there’s the ongoing saga of my dad. He’s having serious heart issues where his valves aren’t filling and emptying correctly. So he went in a couple weeks ago and they did the whole stop/restart manouver on his heart twice, which didn’t work to fix the problem. So, he’s going in next week to be administered a drug that is supposed to pharmacologically fix the issue. He has to be in the hospital for its course because it could kill him. And if that doesn’t work, they want to try and “kick start it” again, and if that fails……

The truth about all of this is that I’m not ready for this. Selfish as it is, I’m not quite ready to even face their mortality. When I lose both of them, I’m alone here. I have 2 step brothers (brothers), but they’re doing their own thing. I’m my mom’s only child. And let’s face it-it’s just me. I have nothing to show for this life, and while I’ve lived a lot, I have no legacy. Nothing to say, “yep, Geoff is leaving this”. My parents? Both can say they did-both have left their marks on their respective occupations, both recognized as giving above and beyond and excelling. Me? I can’t say that I do…..

3. So if anything, facing their mortality has reinforced my needing to complete the album I’ve been working on. But because of being sick, a bad cod season, and sheer cost, I’m looking for alternatives for studios. I started a go fund me for this album, but I feel super cheeky doing it. I know I could use the help, but damn it feels strange asking for it.

4. But that being said, now that I feel like a human being again, I’m able to go back to work and play catch up. I have one halibut job lined up, and almost got 1 more. All of this goes for school for my merchant mariners credentials, so I can finally be qualified for a real job. Something that actually will always pay the bills. Because I’m tired of being such a nomad….I’ve plans so damn many times, and it seems like they’ve always fallen through. In rediculous ways. Like its almost a Greek tragedy.

And to that, I say no more.

5. Speaking of Greek tragedies, I’m absolutely floored by the passing of the ACHA. Unlike many who voted for it, I read it. I read the ammendments(or as many as were available), and find myself sickened that most of my fellow Americans can now be put in to the category of having a pre-existing condition , and therefore be charged more for insurance, without a cap on said charges . I don’t even know what to say anymore. Every time I think they have reached the limits of their inhumanity and greed, they find a new level. My question is this- what will it take for them to quit asking the question, “what’s in it for me” to those who offer campaign donations, and start asking “what can I do that will benefit all of my constituents?” Because this? This wasn’t it. And when will those who actually have a heart in the GOP realize that their efforts are simply making it easier for what’s left of the middle class to be fleeced by corporate America by what will become one of the largest transfers of wealth in US history (may not look like it now, but medicare is next…..)??? Ok, no more politics.


6. But seriously, enough of politics. You all are amazing for listening. I know I owe at least a few of you a write back on notes, and lemme get another beverage in me tonight and I will. I look at your lives, doing big and amazing things like being single parents, owning cats(lol), facing serious health issues with poise and calm, and I just admire y'all and send as much good karma your way as possible. I know we can kick this world’s ass of we do it together, and I’m rooting for all of you. Thanks for listening, and just thanks!

This fic is what happens when the characters take over. As a writer you can only do so much and if the characters say that something is happening, then you are contractually obliged to make it so. As a result, Tony ends up with a cold and on the front of an apron. *blushes*
I’m surprised how popular these one shots have become because frankly I was concerned with their quality. However, so long as you like them, I’ll add to them (given I can find the time in my obviously busy schedule). As requested by disneylandequalssecondhome. Enjoy!

Prompt: I think everyone would agree to asking you to write a Part Three of Photograph. PLEASE. <3 :D

“The Photograph” (Part 3)

Part 2

Natasha glared at Tony who was pleading with his chocolate puppy-dog eyes.
“Come on Romanoff. Just picture the look on their faces.”
“I am.” She replied. “Namely, Steve’s, and that’s why I’m refusing.”
Natasha turned on her heel and began to strut away but Tony hurried in front of her, still holding the shirt in his hands. He was wearing the other top already and the picture of (y/n) and Steve’s faces was stretched a little over his torso.
“Tony, no.” She said as though scolding a child, which, in her defence, she was.
“Oh please!”
“Why do you even want to? Everyone knows they’re dating after your broadcasted Steve’s confession through the tower.” Natasha folded her arms. Tony thought about his response.
“If you wear it, I’ll tell them it was all my idea.” He wiggled his eyebrows.
“It was all your idea.”
“An idea that I wouldn’t have had if a certain red-haired assassin hadn’t woken me up…” He grinned. Natasha’s mouth parted slightly.

9 o’clock. Steve’s eyes reluctantly opened and it took a minute for him to adjust, he was always groggy in the mornings and no serum would change that. You stirred a little in his arms and he remembered the night you had spent together. An awful meal, running in the rain, watching a terrible film and then falling asleep in each other’s arms… Not to mention the pillow fort you were surrounded by. Steve smiled like an idiot.

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