crumbling wall

Dibs

mcreyes day one -   r o a d t r i p

Gabriel can’t say when it all started. He remembers the week after Jesse lost his arm; how he found the younger man on his own too many times, battling with demons that wouldn’t allow him rest. He remembers a night in the rec room, Jesse tucked under his chin as they watched TV and finally falling asleep until morning. But if Gabriel would admit it to himself, he could see they started losing personal space around one another before that.

He let his guard down around the younger man without realizing. Slowly, Jesse started to crumble the walls around Gabriel and managed to touch his shoulder, bump his sides with his elbows, even wrap an arm around his commander’s neck. Night sparring sessions became late night talks and smoke breaks on rooftops their therapy. They met Friday nights in the rec room for a movie. If they couldn’t agree on one, they would thumb wrestle for it. Gabriel always wondered if Jesse’s hand gripped too tightly before he let go or was it all in his head. Those night usually ended with them sleeping closely together, with one head resting on the other’s chest. Gabriel always woke up first, used to his schedule, and would walk out without troubling Jesse. These rituals take place when they’re alone, when they can tell tales in Spanish and murmur secrets that will fade in the air around them.

Gabriel drives through the deserted highway with the sun setting behind them and the moon lighting his path. The radio provides a song he doesn’t know but finds his head nodding to the rhythm. McCree sits by his side, like he’s usually found, telling a story he has told Gabriel before, but the commander has grown too fond of his voice and laughter to stop him.

Jesse leans his head against his seat as he laughs and his eyes close to the joy. Gabriel smiles and takes his eyes off the road to look at his agent, to capture the image of Jesse with the last bit of light left before they’re left with twinkling stars as background.

Gabriel’s hand rests comfortably on the gear stick until Jesse’s finger starts tracing his veins and knuckles. Gabriel can feel Jesse’s eyes on him, daring him to return the gaze. But Gabriel is too afraid of losing control of the car if he does. Jesse’s stare ceases, but he keeps maping Gabriel’s lines, curves and creases on his hand and up his forearm before traveling the same path back down.

“We should rest.” Gabriel says as he slowly stops the vehicle on the side of the road and shuts it off. “Call dibs on the backseat.”

Gabriel gets down and makes his way to the back. He sits down and closes the door behind him, using it to rest his back as he stretches his legs over the seat before McCree speaks.

“Call dibs on you.”

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I have loved you in your dark places, in your twilights, in your crumbling walls and quiet death throes. I will always wear your blood like a perfume, as a reminder of what happens when I get too close.
—  abby, day 300
Closet Softie

Or, How Bucky Barnes Nearly Ruined His Tough-Guy Rep

(On AO3)


The trail mix was gone. 

The nice, expensive trail mix, with twelve kinds of nuts and the big sunflower seeds and dried fruits, the kind Tony only rarely left sitting on the common floors for everyone to get at, was gone. 

Clint had been looking forward to that stuff all morning

All the way through a hellish morning “jog” with Steve, all through Nat handing him his ass on the training mats, all through firing the same batch of misweighted arrows over and over so Tony could take scans and fix the design, he’d been thinking, when this is done I get to go upstairs and hang out on the couch and watch Dog Cops and eat the good trail mix, guilt-free. 

And it was gone.

Clint was gonna shoot somebody.

Just as soon as he figured out who’d taken the trail mix.


kingofmemes posted:

yesterday i saw a sad duck in the park who kept getting picked on by the other ducks so today i brought some trail mix and we had a nice lunch together. also i think he might be the duck who pooped on sam last week. if so, he is officially my new best friend. 

Posted at 3:29 PM, 24379 notes

(Read More Below)


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the signs as suburban haunts

ARIES: flattened paper boats scattered like the remains of a murdered animal along a dried up river, rundown motels with their blasted neon signs and smashed-in windows, pink streamers from some neighborhood child’s birthday party shuffling across the street like bright tumbleweed, a train rattling off into the breathless night & the trace remnants of a week old bonfire found in the middle of nowhere. 

TAURUS: chipped paint, shattered shot glasses lying across an abandoned pool table missing a few billiard balls, flyers rustling like autumn leaves against the tempestuous tides of the wind, advertising concerts & magic shows that took place in 2005, the sillage of old perfume clogging up the air, still thick as the scent of blood or wildflowers.

GEMINI: the corpse of a cigarette that hasn’t touched a mouth in months, a dilapidated playground where lost souls come out to play, threadbare curtains ripped like the wings of a dissected bird, strange red-brown stains across the hotel bedsheets, a gate grown weary with new-forming foliage & age, whining erroneously whenever maneuvered. 

CANCER: an empty casket, coffee rim imprints across hardwood tables, an old, tattered shoe lying haphazardly on the side of the road, a junkyard littered with ancient cars still soggy with stories, a pick-up with a broken windshield, a cadillac with a massacred paint job, someone’s motorcycle with blood staining the front tire, an askew portrait with eyes that follow you around the room.

LEO: a carnival horse with one eye scratched out, a daycare centre that shut down years ago, plagued with the colorful ghosts of children’s drawings still tacked to the crumbling walls, a spiral staircase that seems to shift direction when nobody’s paying attention, crunched up beer cans rolling across an empty rooftop & lichen kissing the concrete. 

VIRGO: the supermarket, flickering & eerie at night like the shadows unearthed beneath troubled eyes, owls stirring in between the murmuring trees, a single upturned grave in a cemetery that isn’t supposed to be notorious for hauntings, an old fountain still glistening with pennies that are no longer considered currency, a collapsed bottle of wine running the tiles red.

LIBRA: handprints imprinted onto fogged-up windows, red rooms crowded with developing photographs of people whose faces you recognize but cannot quite place, broken doll heads, a necklace that erupted into a sea of pearls, a deflated blow up kiddie pool collecting parched grass and critters, a busted arcade game & the laughter of people long gone still trapped inside the walls.

SCORPIO: books with grimacing yellow pages, someone attempting to sell you a cursed object on etsy, a leaky shower-head, a clock that’s stuck in time, a torn, unravelled couch sitting deserted in someone’s front lawn, candy stores that proclaim sales on expired sweets & ruddy patches of farmland. 

SAGITTARIUS: basements stacked with unwanted toys, a box of thin-mints, footsteps reverberating around the house when it’s 2 AM and you’re home alone, a burned down lemonade stand, that weird alien light in the third window of your neighbor’s house that never seems to get turned off, a certain rattling coming from the kitchen.

CAPRICORN: rain pummeling against damp ceilings, clothes ripped off the washing line, an empty aquarium, obscure little thrift stores that sell leather jackets from the eighties, gas station lights flirting with you from the distance, the alley where they say the vagabonds roam their night countries, sniffing up and dressing down and slitting the throats of angels.

AQUARIUS: those tiny coffee shops that fill you with nostalgia for places you’ll never visit, ‘JESUS LOVES YOU’ spray-painted across the sides of ramshackle buildings, an antique almirah scratched to high hell, a monster in the closet, the tunnel beneath the bridge that half the town believes is a gateway to hell, smoking up in trip mall parking lots. 

PISCES: halloween decor presented in shop windows a couple months early, visiting that lake where you heard that one kid drowned, the garage door slamming without cause or notice, storing fireflies in jars, drugstore makeup, birthday cake flavored oreos, a wheeled desk chair that seems to turn on its own when nobody’s in the office, a candle snuffed out on a windless evening.

It wasn’t meant to be this way.

It never meant to be this way.

Crowley sacrificing himself, he could deal with. Losing Mom after just getting her back will take a shit ton of time and about an entire store in whiskey.

But Cas…

Dean stared at the body before him, at the man that had shown up in his life in sparks and earth shattering sound. He was so silent now. Everything was silent. It wasn’t meant to be this way. 

They were going to all go back to the bunker. They were going to figure out what to do with Lucifer’s lovechild and try to siphon out the grace. They were going to hunt alongside Mary and start over. He was going to sit Cas down and make sure he knew he was wanted. They were going to fix things, like they always did. They were going to be something more. Everyone was going to be together.

They were going to be a family. One big happily ever after in a world that never thought to give him that.

It wasn’t meant to be this way.

“…N-No,” Dean’s voice was silenced by the walls finally crumbling down around him. Castiel’s body only lay there, all promise of that life Dean dared to have as silent as the world around him.

It wasn’t meant to be this way.

turncoat: in defense of andromeda tonks nee black

The day after Andromeda’s world ended, she woke to a house full of life.

She rolled out of bed in soft pajamas, bare feet. One pillow was mussed and crumpled. The other was untouched, plumped just the way Ted liked it. She leaned against the headboard, pale fingers gone paler from squeezing the wood.

Her knees were creaking, her joints aching. She was forty three and she felt like she had at least a century brittling her bones. Morning light, grey and dim, dropped through the crack in the curtains, shattered to the floor. There was a sniffle. There was a crescendo of an infant’s cry. Andromeda wrapped an old blanket around her shoulders and went to her grandson.

If she had picked up the newspaper on her front step (she wouldn’t) she would have seen the garbled headlines first trying to make sense of the smoldering remains of the Battle of Hogwarts. THE END OF OUR TERROR? the Prophet screamed.

When Andromeda went out into the rest of the house with Teddy nestled into her shoulder, she had to step cautiously over sleeping bodies. In one corner, a boy with disheveled hair and crooked glasses was passed out on her living room floor, wrapped around a lithe redhead. Harry had insisted on coming to tell her about Nymphadora and Remus in person. The rest of the snorers on her floor had insisted on coming with him. Andromeda had insisted that if they tried to leave again in that state, exhausted and unfed, they’d end up passed out in a ditch somewhere and not just because she’d send a curse after them.

She didn’t know them yet. She didn’t know Harry would spend hours on all fours when Teddy was learning to crawl, demonstrating proper form, while Ginny laughed and cheered them both on with Lee Jordan-style commentary. She didn’t know Molly Weasley would fold herself bossily, comfortably, into Andromeda’s Saturday afternoons with teacakes and preserves, her mending and her sharpest gossip, kindest words.

Andromeda didn’t know that the bushy haired girl curled up on the couch would teach Teddy to read, buy him Muggle science books and help him make a potato battery for a lightbulb, that the lanky redhead bent like a long-limbed question mark at the foot of the couch would become Andromeda’s newest, brightest chess arch nemesis.

Little Teddy on one shoulder, Andromeda went barefoot into the kitchen to get down her daughter’s favorite mug and fill it full of steaming tea. Andromeda let it overbrew, watching sleeping chests, backs, ribs, stomachs rise and fall, breathe, shake. When she finally rolled the bitter liquid over her tongue, she clung to the mug, didn’t let it break the silence.

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The party was talking about a hypnosis show that they witnessed that day, and the conspiracy behind it.

Fighter: “..but I’m sure they were just mind-controlled!”
Druid: “But do you ever just think how we all might be mind-controlled by some sort of sick gods, just playthings, something on a sheet of paper and our actions purely determined on symmetric pieces of plastic?
DM: “Roll a dexterity check to dodge the 4th wall that crumbles upon you.”

epikegster 2k14 “Oh” au
  • in an au where parse never showed up to epikegster, i like to think jack had his “oh” moment in the hazy dark of that cold, loud winter night
  • (like, what could be more different than graduation? in the warm, bright day, scared but certain of his immediate future, speaking to his father in soft french while bells and birds sing overhead?)
  • it’s a different kind of “oh” – it’s not one last shot before everything changes, it’s one more layer of confusion and uncertainty as he enters his final semester at samwell
  • but it’s also…comforting.

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what does love mean to me?

what does love mean to me. i’m not really sure i asked myself this question a lot. i didn’t have a childhood filled with love and affection. so i think that my sense of love, the way it looks, how it feels, the way it’s expressed is very warped. for me growing up “love was” a slap in the face. a hole through the wall. it was belittlement and hatred. i didn’t see what love really was until a brown eyed girl walked into my life at easily the most unexpected time. now don’t get me wrong im not here to reminisce about past relationships or things left unsaid. but when she came into my life i had nothing. i was nothing. i was really fucked up. i struggled, i cried, i screamed, and i panicked. i was a mess to say the least.
but she learned to love that mess, the tornado that i was, that i always believed i would be, destroying everything and everyone in my path. its why i always said i couldn’t love anyone, let alone be loved by anyone. to be told i love you 18 days after the first time you meet someone is crazy right? at least i thought it was. but i was wrong. i thought no one could possibly love me after that short amount of time she doesnt know anything about me yet. but the walls crumbled down one by one. i fell along with them. but she did her best to pick me back up. she spent over 400 days loving me. and in those 400 days i saw love. for the first time in my life i saw love for what it really was. i mean love in every sense of the form, to me love is the way her parents cheered at her games, or the way that they laughed endlessly playing stupid boardgames, love is pushing someone to be the best version of themselves, love is the way i found friends in people i thought i hated. love is trusting. love is letting go. love is crazy, unexplainable, and unimaginable. i learned that love, in that time whether it be picking you up off the bathroom floor, stopping you from jumping off the top of a parking garage, or may it be writing your final flashcards with you, or staying up until 3 am watching criminal minds in a fort built in the living room. love is unconditional. love is love. love means going all in even if it means you’re going to get hurt. because in the end its the only thing worth getting hurt for.

My James, Your Bucky (One Shot)

You’ve had it way too sweet and fluffy from me for a while now, so I’m gonna bring you right back to the pit of despair and angst with this one shot.

Something tells me this is something @sebbys-girl would particularly enjoy;)


Summary: You and Bucky live together in Bucharest. One day you come home to find your flat completely trashed.


Word count: 2.3k


Warnings: angst, aggressive behaviour.


Originally posted by blackinjustice


It was shaping out to be a great day – it was still pre-noon and you had an extra spring in your step as you walked through the cobbled streets of Bucharest. The city you fell in love with, it had it all – alleys lined with tall brick townhouses and red roofs, atmospheric cafes and bars, an impressive market square – where you stopped to pick up a box of plums from ‘your guy’. That’s how you wanted to celebrate, with a cheeky nod to how you two first met.

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damn the delivery boy.

Pairing: Jeon Jeongguk / Reader.

Genre: Expecting Parents AU / Fluff and Non-explicit smut.

Summary: Jeon Jeongguk is a computer science major working as a pizza delivery boy, and you are an uninspired published author who has just started an art degree. When you realise that the delivery boy is your old high school crush, he keeps coming back, but with more to offer than just puff pastry and vegetarian supreme. Though little did he know that he would end up giving you something much more that flips both of your worlds completely upside down in the form of two blue lines and nine months.

Count: 9,656 words.


month one.

Two lines.

The second is a little faint, but it is there, undeniably there, growing stronger by the second as your heart sinks deeper into the pit of your stomach and suddenly you are keeling over the sink, throwing up a combination of panic and regret. You wipe your mouth, sit back on the closed lid of the toilet, shut your eyes and take a deep breath, holding it until your lungs burn and your lashes fly back apart to look at the test still shaking between your fingertips.

There, right before your eyes, two fucking blue lines protruding like two middle fingers, poking up at you and saying – Congratulations sucker, you are pregnant!

Twenty-three years old and pregnant.

You throw up again.

This has got to be the biggest mistake of your life.

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8

the known world: HUMAN CULTURES (p.1) 

Archmaester Brude, who was born and raised in the shadow city that huddles beneath the crumbling walls of Sunspear, once famously observed that Dorne has more in common with the distant North than either does with the realms that lie between them. “One is hot and one is cold, yet these ancient kingdoms of sand and snow are set apart from the rest of Westeros by history, culture, and tradition. Both are thinly peopled, compared to the lands betwixt. Both cling stubbornly to their own laws and their own traditions. Neither was ever truly conquered by the dragons. The King in the North accepted Aegon Targaryen as his overlord peaceably, whilst Dorne resisted the might of the Targaryens valiantly for almost two hundred years, before finally submitting to the Iron Throne through marriage. Dornishmen and Northmen alike are derided as savages by the ignorant of the five ‘civilized’ kingdoms, and celebrated for their valor by those who have crossed swords with them.
                                                                ~ [ The World of Ice and Fire - Dorne ]

🌺M A S T E R L I S T🌺

# = smut 

If you are under the age of 18, I suggest that you turn back now. Most of my works dabble in material not suitable for anyone under the age of 18. No matter the age of consent in your place of residence or how mature you think you are, you should NOT be here. I could get in serious trouble if you’re found reading my smut. Hell, you probably shouldn’t be on my blog if you’re under 18. I’ll be here when you’re older. There’s no need to rush. For both our sake, please do not be here if you are under 18 years old. If you are, I will have no choice but to block you.


A V E N G E R S 

Avengers 

        ~ Lonely Hearts and Sad Bars: A bartender’s observations of the Avengers. 

Steve Rogers (Captain America)

Wise Fools Series:  When Hydra hires an agent of SHIELD to bring down an none other than the Captain himself, chaos ensues.

~ Fool Me Once ~ Shame On You ~ Fool Me Twice  ~ Shame On Me

~ Sex headcanons (#)

~ One Last Dance (drabble):  Walking away from the venue, his jaw clenched, he knows he should’ve asked her for one last dance.

Bucky Barnes (Winter Soldier)

        ~ Love (drabble): Never had the words ‘I love you’ been shared between the two, but perhaps, it wasn’t necessary.

        ~ StardustKnight! Bucky X Castle Maid! Reader AU; A maid loves a lord. A lord loves a maid. Surely, a union between the two will never come to be. 

        ~ All the Things Left Unsaid: He loved her. A woman of hope, ambition, of joy. There’d been so much that he’d wanted to say to her and so much that he hadn’t.

        ~ Sex headcanons (#)

        ~ Safe (drabble): Another nightmare, another hopeless day. He feels helpless, broken. Will he ever be safe?

        ~ Mercy: Everyone has secrets. The only question that differs is who shows mercy when those secrets tear at crumbling walls built to contain them?

        ~ Breathless (drabble) (#): Bucky’s a fucking tease. He knows that. He won’t stop. 

        ~ Caution (#): He’s everything that your mother’s warned you about. Good thing you never have listened to her.

        ~ The Girl in the Flower Dress (drabble): There’s this girl. There’s this guy. The guy’s in love with the girl but he’s too big of an idiot to even talk to her.

        ~ Insatiable (drabble) (#): Bucky simply can’t get enough of you.

Just Friends (drabble series) (#): The deal was clear: No feelings. 

 Part I, Part II

        ~ Answers (drabble): Some questions don’t need to be asked. 

     ~ Their Story: Mouline Rouge AU; What happens when an oh-so-talented, charmingly bohemian, tragically impoverished protege falls in love with a courtesan?

       ~ Storm (drabble): Storms do, after all, leave clear skies to marvel at.

       ~ Warmth (#) (drabble): Bath-time with Bucky.

       ~ Roses: Is it possible to win a girl’s heart in a day? 

       ~ Touch (#): Bucky masturbating…

       ~ Desire (#): Based off 50 Cent’s Candy Shop

       ~ Sugar (series):  Struggling with the pressures of running a bakery in New York City, [Y/N] [Y/L/N] is your average, flour-covered baker. Bucky Barnes is your no nonsense, sugar-hating guy.  What happens when the two get closer than Fate intends for them to?

Loki Laufeyson (Loki)

        ~ Sex headcanons (#)

Pietro Maximoff (Quicksilver)

        ~ Sex headcanons (#)

Clint Barton (Hawkeye)

       ~ Sex headcanons (#)

Tony Stark (Ironman)

       ~ Almost (drabble): Almost is the saddest word in the entire vernacular. It’s just there but no quite. So close to something that could be. But sometimes, almost can be happy. 

       ~ Home (drabble): Sometimes, home isn’t a place. It’s a person. 

       ~ Sex headcanons (#)

       ~ Stark’s Private Car-wash Services (#): Tony gets turned on by his girlfriend washing one of his cars. 

T’Challa Udaku (Black Panther)

        ~ Snowfall: She’s never seen snow before. She’d do anything to see it.

Scott Lang (Ant-Man)

        ~ Sex headcanons (#)

Natasha Romanoff (Black Widow)

        ~ Sex headcanons (#)

Thor Odinson

        ~ His Touch (#): There’s nothing but love evident in every movement of his. After all, you are his queen. 

        ~ Sex headcanons (#)

_____________________________________________________________

X - M E N

Logan Howlett (Wolverine) 

         ~ Friends, Not Food (#): There’s apparently something hard to understand about the fact that his girlfriend’s a friend, not food. 

         ~ Sex headcanons (#)

         ~ Helpless (drabble): He’s been through a lot. He’ll never change. 

         ~ Mile High (#): It’s really not his fault that you’re the most pleasant thing to think about when he’s in a metal canister, miles in the sky with a chance of crashing.

         ~ Worst Timing (drabble): Logan finds the worst time to tell you that he loves you.

         ~ How Good Is He At Oral? (#) (ask)

         ~ Is Logan an ass or boob guy?  (#) (ask)

         ~ Does Logan purr? (#) (ask) (drabble)

         ~ Static (#): Logan can’t keep his hands off of you, no matter what you happen to be doing in that moment. 

         ~ Dinner (drabble) (#): When Logan wants to try something new, you’re glad you agree.

         ~ Card Towers (drabble): It’s almost funny how easy it is to destroy hope.

         ~ Straddling Him (#) (ask)

         ~ Giving him a blowjob (#) (ask)

         ~ How would Logan masturbate? (#) (ask)

         ~ Car sex (#) (ask)

         ~ Spanking (#) (ask)

         ~ Giving him a massage (#) (ask)

Victor Creed (Sabretooth)

         ~ Primal Need (#): Victor Creed doesn’t take kindly to challenge. He revolts in every way that you’d expect.

         ~ Sex headcanons (#)

         ~ Is Victor an ass or boob guy? (#) (ask)

Piotr Rasputin (Colossus)

        ~ Molten Metal (#): Waking up next to someone isn’t a given, especially when you’re a mutant. You’re glad you’ve got Piotr. 

        ~ Sex headcanons (#)

        ~ Riding Him (#) (ask)

        ~ Riding His Thigh (#) (ask)

        ~ Face Sitting (#) (ask)

        ~ How Good Is He At Oral (#) (ask)

Charles Xavier (Professor X)

        ~ Sex headcanons (#) 

Erik Lensherr (Magneto)

        ~ Sex headcanons (#)

_____________________________________________________________

D A R E D E V I L 

Matthew Murdock (Daredevil)

         ~ The Fall Of An Angel: He loved to hear her sing, but he never knew the reason behind her heartbreaking tunes.

         ~ Sex headcanons (#)

Frank Castle (The Punisher)

         ~ Remember (poetic drabble??): Frank’s recollection of his memories.

_____________________________________________________________

D E A D P O O L

Francis Freeman (Ajax)

        ~ Sex headcanons (#)

Wade Wilson (Deadpool)

        ~ Sex headcanons (#)

_____________________________________________________________ 

T H E  B R O N Z E

Lance Tucker

       ~ Sex headcanons (#)

______________________________________________________________

R E A L  P E R S O N 

Sebastian Stan

       ~ Forbidden: Unseelie Fae! Sebastian Stan X Reader AU; A human has entered the realm of the fairies, a land forbidden. What good can come of it?

Flawed Words Series (Sebastian X OC): tba

      ~ Part I 

the good die young

Sirius Black walked nervously up and down as he watched the events unfold in Hogwarts. The place he knew like the back of his hand, the place where he had the best time of his life with the people he cared about the most. It was crumbling down, every wall that he had once touched, every statue he hid behind, it was all falling apart right in front of his eyes and he hated that he was useless once more. 

Fred Weasley had recently joined them, Sirius watched as this kid watched his family with worried eyes that reminded him so much of Fabian and Gideon. Sirius had watched the brothers comfort the red haired boy who cried breathlessly as he watched his older brother run after his killer. All the things that poor boy must be feeling were nothing compared to what James and Lily were feeling. They knew how this would end, they knew Harry would join them soon. Lily watched with worried eyes as James took his glasses off every two minutes to rub his forehead, like he had a headache he couldn’t get rid of. 

Sirius heard James yell “No” as he fell on his knees and thought that maybe it was the time, maybe his godson was joining them. He didn’t dare turn around, he couldn’t bear seeing him here, not Harry. He closed his eyes and kept them shut, not so fast, this shouldn’t have happened so fast.

“Pads?”

I must be dreaming.  

“Sirius?”

It’s impossible.

“Sirius, open your eyes”

So Sirius did and wished he hadn’t.

No” yelled Sirius as he turned away from the tall man standing in front of him, with two visible scars on his face and tired eyes. “This is not happening. Lily please tell me this is not happening” shouted Sirius as tears were streaming down his face.

“Please Lils” he begged, barely whispering. Sirius looked James with pleading eyes to tell him that the man stood in front of him a second ago was not Remus, was not his Moony. James’ tear stained face was all the answer he needed but didn’t want.

“Sirius,” began Remus, Lily was staring behind Sirius with tear filled eyes, so it was really him. 

“James you should keep watching Harry. I– I got Remus” assured Sirius. James looked torn between Remus and Harry but Sirius knew Harry had to come first. Remus would understand that.

“Hello Professor Lupin” said Fred slowly, Remus flinched at that mention.

“I didn’t– I didn’t know you–”

“The good die young Professor, I hope it won’t be in vain” replied Fred with hope in his voice. Sirius took in Remus completely, the way his amber eyes watered as he smiled to the Weasley kid, the way his head tilted to the side when he felt hopeless. The way he had grown old without him despite all the promises they had made each other.

Sirius slowly walked away from the ever growing crowd around James and Lily, he stopped when he was sure no one could hear them.

“Who was it?” demanded Sirius before Remus could open his mouth.

“Lestrange” replied Remus like he expected Sirius to ask the question. Remus looked around troubled. “Where am I? Purgatory?”

“Well kind of, you don’t move on unless you want to. Afterlife is a better explanation” said Sirius, his eyes hanging on every new scar on Remus’ visible skin. He was sure there were plenty more he couldn’t see. 

“So you are- you are all real? You are real? I’m not in heaven and imagining everything around because I’m d-dead?”

Sirius slowly nodded in response. Remus slowly raised his hand to touch Sirius but he searched for Sirius’ permission to do so. Sirius leaned his head down to let his hand touch like a dog would to his owner. As soon as Sirius felt the warmth of Remus on his skin, he felt all his troubles melt away. 

Remus slowly pulled Sirius in a tight hug as he pressed the shorter man’s head on his chest, his long fingers tangled in Sirius’ long silky hair.

“I thought I had lost you forever” whispered Remus in Sirius’ black hair. He still smelled like chocolate, Sirius inhaled the familiar scent and felt like he was back in Grimmauld Place, 12, two years ago. Intertwined in his bed, the chocolate scent in the corridors of the place he hated so much and Sirius didn’t think he would feel Remus’ rough skin on his soft one anytime soon. Sirius didn’t know what to feel, he had Moony back but he wanted him to live longer than this, he deserved to live longer than this, he deserved happiness.

Remus broke the silence slowly.

“I have to ask you something but I don’t know how to–”

“I am not angry or disappointed in you because you chose happiness Moons. All I ever wanted was for you to be happy,” interrupted before Remus could finish his sentence. Remus cleared his throat to hid the tears pooling in his eyes. “Am I a little jealous of Dora? Yes, but if you were happy, that’s all I ever need,” continued Sirius and he saw Remus smile slightly.

“I missed you with every little piece of my being, I felt numb for days after you were gone and I–” stuttered Remus. “All I wanted was you and I was tired, you know? Everything I ever loved was taken from me and you were the last blow. The thing I loved the most–” Sirius stared at the werewolf in awe, Remus’ amber eyes stared into Sirius’ grey ones with so much love Sirius felt himself drown in it. “What I am trying to say is I have never given up on you Sirius.”

Sirius for once in his life was lost for words. He somehow knew that Remus would never completely forget him but to hear him say it so clearly was so different.

“And I loved her, Tonks I mean, I still do. She is an incredible person and an even better friend. She took care of me and she loved me almost as much as you did and I needed her, I needed to feel that,” babbled Remus, he almost sounded guilty because he wanted happiness. “Then Teddy came, he is so perfect, I wish you met him. Just because I loved Tonks does not mean that I was ever over you, Pads.”

Sirius just stared at him, his eyes fixated on Remus’ lips, taking in every little word that fell from them. Then he slowly reached for Remus’ hand kissed each wounded knuckle. 

At that moment, they didn’t need words or anything else for that matter. Just one look and everything unspoken was out in the open. Remus slowly wiped away the tear from Sirius’ cheek. Sirius realised he started crying way too often but it felt good, to hear those words. Remus turned around to stare at the crowd behind him.

“So, what are James and Lily doing?” 

“They are watching Harry and the others, you can watch people from here. So if you want to you can watch Tonks and Teddy,” said Sirius smiling and Tonks appeared in front of them fighting for her life, duelling two Death Eaters at the same time.

“She should have stayed home” said Remus as he watched Tonks desperately. 

“Well, Blacks aren’t that good at listening and sitting still Remus, you should have learned it by now” admitted Sirius guiltily, he only listened to Remus and no one else. 

Sirius saw the jet of green light flying towards his cousin and saw Remus turn as white as a ghost. Sirius barely heard him say “Please, no” as he searched for Sirius to stay standing. The only thing Sirius could think about was what Fred Weasley said as he accepted his fate, the good die young.

Shakespeare Aesthetics
  • Macbeth: the howl of wolves, moonless nights, dirt under fingernails, stained silk, chattering teeth, voices hoarse and cracked, rotting fruit, echoing drums, dry heaving, hanging cobwebs, stifling humidity, bloodshot eyes, the roughness of rusted steel, wild rosebushes, muscle cramps, the sound of splintering wood
  • A Midsummer's Night Dream: Crackling fires, ivy crawling on stone, the faint music of running water, petrichor, dirty, bare feet, tattered clothing, thistledown, wilted wildflower crowns, late evening birdsong, curling leaves, a symphony of croaking frogs, drifting feathers, the eerie sound of windchimes at night, humming bees, beds of clover
  • Romeo and Juliet: Warm golden lamplight, worn shoes, crumbling brick walls, whispered poetry, embroidered satin, cool, hazy mornings, tousled hair, rosewater, flushed cheeks, distant orchestras, unfinished marble statues, cobblestoned streets, loose threads, ink smudged on parchment, tapping fingers, dust illuminated by sunlight
  • Hamlet: Shattered glass, a cluster of fraying ribbons, unanswered knocks on doors, lingering dampness, white noise, inexplicable drafts, migraines, bleeding ears, the taste of metal, reflected mirrors, dry, cracked lips, the sound of tearing paper, fogged windows, memories of dreams, tarnished silver, protruding veins
Say It (1/?)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 6,594 (I have a problem, lol)

Request: “Could you write buckyxreader where the reader has a speech impediment.”

Warning: Angst, descriptions of blood 

A/N: This was a request by @gondorgirl01 a very very very long time ago, but I never got around to writing it before now. I’m apologizing though, I promised you fluff, but the angst wrote itself. Haha. I wanted to post this on your birthday, but I was like, “nope, not gonna angst her this hard on her b-day, that’s just plain rude”. I love you girl, and I promise to make up for this angst with some fluff for you at some other point! hehe. Love you! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated!

PART 2


You didn’t know what it was about Bucky that drew you to him.

All you knew was that the pull you had towards him was like a magnet to steel.

Every time he would enter the room, every time he would speak, every time he would smile, the pull became stronger and stronger.

Your mother told you it was because girls were born with an instinct to fix what was broken, but you knew that wasn’t the case.

You didn’t want to fix Bucky because it wasn’t your job to fix him. He was broken, yes, but no one but himself could fix that. It was a battle he had to fight on his own.

But you wanted to help. You wanted to be there for Bucky, to support him in his journey to recovery.  

That was all you really wanted to do, but you didn’t know how. Bucky spoke to all the Avengers, he was kind, he did his very best to show the Avengers the gratitude he felt, and you wanted to talk to him as well. You wanted to assure him that all the Avengers including yourself were happy to have him here, were happy to help him, were happy to be part of his life. You wanted to tell him that so badly, but you couldn’t. And that was probably the hardest fact for you to swallow each and every day when you saw him. A million words you wanted to say, but the only thing you could do was smile bright his way and hope he understood why you were the only one who couldn’t say a word to him.

Keep reading

Last night I asked people to guess my favorite Hetalia character and at least 60 pple guessed BUT NOT A SINGLE PERSON GUESSED CHINA I’m so sad!!!! 

He threw a tantrum and bashed his head against a wall and the wall crumbled!!! He is smol but strong and adores cute things!!! He repeatedly hit an ancient dragon with a Hello Kitty plush!! HE. HAS. A. PONY. TAIL. CMON NOW GUYS

Nostalgia - Jughead Jones Imagine

Originally posted by alinok

gender neutral pronouns || 1047 words

Betty shook with sorrow, tears falling freely down her face. (Y/N) placed a comforting hand on her back, stroking soothing circles. Her sobs echoed throughout the Cooper household, luckily Betty’s parents were still at work.

“Have you ever loved someone, with your whole heart, but you know that they will never love you back?” Betty whimpered, referring to Archie. However, one person, in particular, came into (Y/N)’s mind…Jughead Jones. They had been best friends for many years, both having similar interests and ambitions. (Y/N) had loved him for years, but never once said anything, in fear of him not feeling the same.

“Betty, there will be someone out there for you. Archie, he doesn’t deserve you.” (Y/N) smoothed down Betty’s hair as she put her head on their shoulder. “He’ll realise that soon enough.” (Y/N) smiled, trying to lighten the dull and depressing mood. Thinking about Jughead wasn’t making things any better either.

“It’s just hard, (Y/N). I’ve loved him for years, and to just have that, that connection, gone. It’s too much at once.” Betty sighed, not realising that her words, also reflected (Y/N)’s circumstances. (Y/N) swallowed hard, their chest tightening, palms beginning to sweat as they thought of Jughead. Repressed feelings, ones that they thought would never take hold as much as it did, all falling down at once. At that moment Kevin burst through the door, holding blankets and ice cream.

“I came prepared.” He smiled, sitting down next to Betty.

“Listen, Betty, if you don’t mind, I’m going to head off. It’s getting late and I don’t want my parents worried.” (Y/N) rambled on, causing a small smile to appear on Betty’s face.

“It’s fine. Thank you, for being here.” And with that, (Y/N) left, they left before the tears could fall, before those walls came crumbling down. They went to the only place they could think of, a place that only they and Jughead knew of. The treehouse, behind both of their houses, the place where the two would play for hours on end, imagining different worlds and realities. If only it were like that now.

Sitting down in the rickety lodge, (Y/N) scanned the shelves, mounted with comics, small figurines, battered and broke, but what caught their eye, was the small photo in a brown, scratched frame. It was of Jughead and (Y/N), they were a few years younger from what they were now, holding each other close, smiling so brightly that the corners of their eyes lifted. It had been awhile since they had taken a photo together, and awhile since either of them smiled like that.

(Y/N) caressed the photo with the tips of their fingers, reminiscing in the memories of “the glory days” they had called it. Basking in the nostalgia in the small rotting treehouse. (Y/N) had only closed their eyes for a moment, when footsteps echoed through the lodge and soon, climbed in Jughead.

“Juggie?” (Y/N) questioned as they wiped the tears from their eyes quickly. Jughead sat down next to them, looking at the photo.

“What’s wrong, (Y/N)? I saw you climb up here from my bedroom window.” Jughead looked over to his house quickly from the small window, before turning back to (Y/N).

“How did you know something was wrong?” They asked, clutching the frame tighter. Jughead sighed, looking into (Y/N)’s (E/C) eyes.

“We haven’t been in here since we were what? Ten?” This caused (Y/N) to frown, looking back down at the photo of them in their teenage years.

“Then what’s this doing in here.” They showed Jug the photo, his face going slightly pale. “Juggie, why is this in here?” They asked again. Jughead closed his eyes, head falling back against the wood.

“That’s my favourite photo of us. We look so happy, I-I didn’t want to forget it. I thought up here, It’d be safe.” Jughead looked down at it, smiling slightly.

“Why were you up here, (Y/N)?” He asked gently. (Y/N) sighed.

“Have you ever loved someone, with your whole heart, but you know that they will never love you back?” (Y/N) repeated Betty’s words, looking daringly at Jug for a second. “You know that, if you were to do something about it, it would put your whole friendship in jeopardy.” Jughead frowned this time, looking out the small window at the tender sunlight.

“Yes.” He mumbled, so quiet, that (Y/N) almost missed it. This caused them to freeze,who could it possibly be? both thought. “For awhile now actually.” Jughead grabbed the photo from (Y/N)’s grasp holding it close. “I kept this photo, to remind me, remind me of the moment it happened.” Pulling out the photo from its frame, Jughead held it up to the fading light. At the back of the paper was a date, the day the photo was taken, and the words “Nostalgia-” written scruffily.

“Wait, Jug what are you-what are you saying?” (Y/N) was far beyond confused, turning more to look at him. Jug put the photo down, meeting their gaze.

“As cheesy and as gross as it sounds, you. You’re the only thing I’ve ever had that’s worth anything to me. The only thing, that I can live for. I-I” The words caught in his throat, (Y/N) took this as their moment, and slowly pressed their lips against his. Jughead froze for a second, before returning the kiss, wrapping his arms around (Y/N)’s waist. (Y/N) moved their hands to his neck, gripping the dark locks exposed at the back of his head. Pulling away a few moments later, Jughead pressed his forehead against (Y/N)’s.

“I’m in love with you, Jughead Jones.” (Y/N) whispered, both of them breaking out into a smile. A smile just like the one in the photo.

“As I am with you, (Y/N) (L/N).” He mumbled, pressing another soft kiss to their lips, both of them wrapped in their own world. A sentimental moment, of fantasy, becoming reality.