do i even have the audacity to tag this as mine

Vanish in the Dark Pt 1

Pairings: None at the moment(A.K.A I have no idea where I’m going with this.)

Warnings: None right now, maybe language?

Word Count: 2600+

Summary: Assassin’s Creed AU and Marvel AU crossover.  The Brotherhood has spent years hiding in the shadows keeping the Templars in line as the years pass on. When the Templars company Abstergo Industries strikes up a deal with Hydra, things have to change. The Brotherhood decides to step out of the shadows, reaching out for the help of the Avengers. What could go wrong?

A/N: So far I have the first four parts written, but after that I dunno where I’m gonna go. All I know is this is gonna be a long one, and while I’m writing as I go, I’m really excited. I’ve started a tag list, so let me know if you’d like to added and I’ll be more than happy too add you! Also liking and rebblogging also helps me know if i should keep going. Thank you guys!  ❤️

Once again, the gif is not mine, credit to the owner.

*Prologue* | *Part Two*

Steve sighed into his bowl of oatmeal, watching Bucky and Sam bicker once again over who gets the last of the Lucky Charms. Natasha sat beside him, munching on an apple, throwing in a few quips herself which only cause the two start back up again. Clint had walked in, took one look at the two that stood at the center of the room gripping the box in each hand, and walked right back out. Steve was starting to think he had the right idea. 

“Could you stop egging them on?” He huffed at Natasha, who added another reason why Bucky should get the last bowl. Natasha only replied with a smirk as she took another bite from her apple. Steve rolled his eyes, knowing that she would only stop when she got bored. And from the look on her face, it wasn’t going to be a while before that happened. With the mounting tension, he thought he’d have to jump in and stop the two from having a smack down in the center of the kitchen. Just as he was about to tell them about the second box that was hiding on the top shelf in the pantry, a bellow from down the hall caused all four to stop and look in the direction.

Tony came sprinting into the kitchen, a piece of paper in hand, and looking unbelievably irate. He slammed the paper down on the island, causing the four to jump. They’ve seen him mad before, but this was a whole new level they never knew he had.

“Anyone want to tell me what the fuck this is?” He snarled, pointing at the paper. All four blinked, none knowing how to answer that question when they hadn’t the slightest clue why he was so angry. Natasha was the first to move, picking up the paper to read the words carefully. A scowl spread across her face as she read the words, unsettled from the amount of information that was typed on the paper. She turned the page over, eyeing the strange triangular symbol on the back of the white page. It didn’t spark a recognition in her mind, but the words spoke of how well the messenger knew them.

“Where did you get this?” She asked passing the paper over to Steve. Tony’s jaw clench as he tried to calm down enough to form a coherent sentence.

“It was in my lab, sitting on top my latest project. Along with a list of reasons why that prototype was not going to work and what I could do to fix it.” Tony scoffed. He was a bit bitter that someone managed to break into his lab, but was even more peeved that person had the audacity to leave a list of his failures he wasn’t even aware were there. “I checked all the tapes, there wasn’t a sign of someone breaking in the compound last night, not even a blip.”

“How is that possible?” Natasha asked leaning against the island. Steve stayed silent, rereading the words as he tried to wrap his mind around the content. If what this was saying was true then things were a lot worse than they thought.

“I don’t know, Romanoff.” Tony snarled, running a hand through his hair. “F.R.I.D.A.Y. already told that nothing out of the ordinary happened, that nothing was shut down. Yet somehow, someone broke into my lab, had time to tinker around with a prototype, and write a hand written 2 page essay on what was wrong before leaving, all while being capable of not setting off a single alarm!”

“Hey!” Steve boomed, switching into his Captain’s command voice. “Look, I get how upsetting this is, but don’t take this out on Natasha!”

Tony turned around, mouth open ready to argue. He stopped short at the withering glare Steve gave him, rolling his eyes at the blonde.

“Fine. Whatever.” He waved them off, snatching the paper out of Steve’s hand. “This is still a problem, however. Someone broke in last night. Someone knows things about us that have never been released to the public. Someone-“

“Knows of the deal between Hydra and that Abstergo company.” Steve finished. He was becoming just as unnerved about the whole thing as well. Bucky and Sam tensed, their eyes flickering to the pages. Tony passed the paper over, hardly sparing them a glance as he continued.

“They want us to meet them tomorrow afternoon. In New York. The only thing I can think of that’s going on that day is the press conference in Manhattan.” Tony was talking about the press conference that the famed company Abstergo Industries was having to speak about the advances they were going to take in the company. Their partnership with Hydra was not public knowledge, but they had heard it through the grape vine that something was happening between the two groups. The Avengers looked in on the company, wondering why Hydra took interest in them. What they found had appalled the group. They learned about some of the experiments that Abstergo took part of, and with this partnership with Hydra, they knew they’d have to do something. This request for a meeting was not something they expected however.

“Is that a good idea? I mean we have no idea who these people are.” Natasha questioned.

“I’m having F.R.I.D.A.Y. run a search for that symbol, clearly it means something. But if what they say is true, and what they know is right, then we might not have a choice.” Tony bit out. He wasn’t happy about how everything went down. However, he knew there was more important things than his bruised ego right now. Well only slightly more important. “I’m also going to up security. I can’t believe someone could sneak in.”

Steve sighed, pushing his unfinished bowl of oatmeal away. “Look, right now we need to worry about what the note said. If it’s true, then we’re going to have a lot more problems on our hands.”

Natasha nodded. “If they’re able to teach someone to become a trained killer in just days by a machine, I can only imagine what they’d do with Hydra’s less than legal experiments. Throw in the serum, they’d be unstoppable.”

Bucky tensed at that, flashes of his past coming up. He shuttered to think what could happen if this all went how the two groups wanted it to go. He passed the page to Sam and stepped up.

“I think we should go meet them.” Three sets of eyes turned to him. “The note said that if we refused, then it was fine. They don’t want anything besides stopping two groups from growing stronger than before. It’s clear they have no ulterior motive. They just want to stop them. And I agree. Hydra is already a problem, throw in the limited things we’ve learned of Abstergo and I’m sorry. I can’t let another one of me come into this world.”

Steve and Tony stayed silent for a moment. Neither wanted to agree to this, but Bucky had a point. They needed to stop this before it started. And if this other group was the key, then so be it.

“Sir.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. called, pulling their attentions away from each other.

“What’s up F.R.I.D.A.Y.?”

“I’ve done the search like you’ve asked, and I’m afraid you wouldn’t like the answer I’ve come up with.”

“And what exactly is that?”

The AI paused for a moment, before flickering on the tablet laying on one of the counters. Tony picked it up and brought up the hologram.

“It would seem that there is no current information on the symbol. Instead I found only older information. It’s an old symbol that was used dating back before history could record it. There are hints of used back in the Roman era. Perhaps ever before then. You can find old remnants on buildings, ruins, streets, and even some hidden tunnel entrances. The main known locations are Italy, present day Istanbul and recently found, Egypt.

There have been of course, other findings across Europe, and parts of Asia. There was talk of the symbol even having reached here to North America. But the symbols were suddenly wiped from existence somewhere in the 19th century. Across all countries. The only reason we know of them are because of the ones that have been found are from recent excavations and a few codecs that can only be found in ancient libraries.”

“As much as I love having an impromptu history lesson, cut to the chase. What does the symbol stand for?” Tony asked, a bit annoyed at the lengthy build up.

“That’s just it, sir. The only small bit of information I can find of it, besides the recent locations is a name. They called themselves The Brotherhood.”

“The Brotherhood?” Natasha asked.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.-“ Tony began, flipping through some of the images that showed the symbols on buildings. They were faint, a bit more intricate in design that the simple symbol on the paper, but he could tell what was there.

“I’ve already ran a search of the name. It came up empty. I had to tap into Abstergo Industries database to find out more, to see if they knew this symbol. I searched for what I could without tripping their sensors, which isn’t much. What I did find, however, is a bit appalling. It seems that Abstergo Industry is actually a front for an old order that too dates back to the beginning of history.”

Steve raised a brow; This was getting more interesting the longer the AI rambled on.

“They were once known as the Templar Order. An old group that wanted to control and use the people so that they might have order and ‘peace’ in the world. They wanted the world built in their specific image. They cared little for what happened to the common people, just as long as they, the Order, had control.”

“Sounds like another group we know of.” Bucky muttered, watching Tony flip through the files that flashed up on the screen. The AI continued.

“The Brotherhood was once their greatest foe, the group fighting back against the Templars. The Brotherhood stood for the freedom of the people.”

“What are you getting at F.R.I.D.A.Y?” Tony could tell the AI was hesitating from telling them the truth.

“The Brotherhood was also known by the Templars’ as the Assassin’s Order.” The group stood straighter as the word.  “They were a group of highly elite assassins that targeted the Order, to keep them from growing into power. They fought each other since practically the beginning of time, at one point the Brotherhood was nearly defeated. It was around the Revolution they grew in size once more but somewhere down the way-“

“The Brotherhood disappeared.”

“Yes, and that’s why I find- odd. How did they manage to fall off the face of the earth after centuries of fighting the Order? Why is it that now, they’ve stepped up? But more important, how have they managed to keep themselves hidden for so long, even after the number of successful assassinations?”

A screen popped up, faces with list of their information, the words deceased in big red letters across the face. There was a long list, over 40 from the first page with several dozen pages. The four in the kitchen stood wide eyed as they looked over the names of many dignitaries and higher ups. Natasha stepped up pointing at a member of Parliament.

“I though he died of a heart attack two years ago.”

“No, he was killed by poison. The Order, Abstergo Industries, were the ones who performed his autopsy. The reports were falsified for the public, but the Order kept his real cause of death hidden. If word got out, then there would be more panic then necessary. As it turns out, this member of the Order also had a hidden agenda the Order was not fond of. His death was not missed by them. It still did manage to hurt them. Apparently, they lost a quite a bit of their influence in Britain because of it.”

Natasha pointed to another, a senator who had been said to have died in a car crash two months ago.

“Slit throat that was covered up by the crash.” The AI went through a quick list of the ones that stood out the most to the group, and with each one the team was left even more amazed, and frankly, scared.

“How is this possible?” Steve whispered, frowning when he recognized two of the Senators. They pressed for the Accord, but were never linked to Hydra. This made it all seem even more terrifying knowing there was another group out there that was just as influential as Hydra.

“As I stated, I’m not certain. Abstergo Industries knows that Brotherhood is still out there, but somehow the Brotherhood work in the shadows. They’re off the grid. There have been no known sittings of the Brotherhood since before the 19th century. That is, until today.”

Sam whistled low, impressed. “They’ve managed to keep a low profile for so long, eliminating well-known figure heads, and managed to break into our compound without tripping one of the alarms.”

Tony turned to glared at him, but Sam only shrugged. “Think about it. If they’ve managed to do all this, unnoticed by any of us, then they must be damn good at their jobs.”

Steve grit his teeth, not like the truth to Sam’s words. They had to be damn good. He turned back to the hologram that had pulled up the information to the press conference that was scheduled for the next afternoon.

“What about this, what is that you can tell us about the two joining?”

“As you stated earlier, Abstergo Industries has a way to put people into the past, to learn from members of their Order. They can learn how to fight, how to kill, and how to lead by simply laying down in a machine for a few hours a day. They can learn to become masters of fighting in the matter of weeks. All with out sustaining injuries. Their members are willing and wouldn’t need to be wiped to have them do the dirty work of the company. Throw in everything that Hydra knows, and willing to bring to the table; The two would both be unstoppable. The only good thing that comes from this, is a kink in the system that Abstergo Industries still has yet to fix. They call it the bleeding effect.”

“The bleeding effect?” Tony asked, flipping through a few files that pulled his interest.

“They machine they use sends them through memories. If the subject spends too much time in the machine, their brain is unable to differentiate between what real and what was a memory. They’ve lost several members to the madness that it brings.”

“The only silver lining I guess.” Steve muttered.

“I suppose, however, the Brotherhood has made great strides in keeping the Order in line, even though they themselves have not been out in the open. I suggest you take them up on this offer.”

Tony snorted and shook his head.


“I know, F.R.I.D.A.Y. You’re right. This is too important to ignore.” He turned to glare at the paper that sat on the island once more, the symbol of the Brotherhood facing up. It was taunting him, they managed to do the impossible. It was a blatant show of skill. And a tease that they’d never be as good as the Brotherhood. Tony was not one to back down from a challenge. Clenching his jaw, he nodded. With a swipe of his hand, he closed the hologram.

“Looks like we’re going to a press conference.”

Vanish in the Dark Tag List:

@buckybabybaby @ccehrler @the-echo-of-insanity @aya-fay

(OPEN-let me know if you’d like to be tagged)

tinysoftdrinkstate  asked:

"I cut my finger too deep while cooking but I don't want to go to the hospital and you're the med student who lives in the apartment across from mine; why can't you just stitch it up?" for sprace or javid? also can you tag @dailyau in the post? the prompt is from them) 💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞

This is a real old prompt so I’m so sorry it took so long! But thank you for passing it on from @dailyau. Also the working title for this in my saved documents is ‘noodles’… 

Content warning for minimal gore, but there’s quite a few mentions of blood and cuts.

Davey was colour coding notes when a knock on the door sounded. He wasn’t expecting visitors at 2am so his first instinct was to ignore it, but then the knocking sounded again and who disturbed someone at that time of night unless there was a problem. Sighing at the disruption, Davey pushed his textbook off his lap and laid his highlighters on top of it so he could answer the door.

“What on Earth-?!”

The last thing he expected was the cute boy from across the hall standing on his doorstep cradling his hand against his chest. That wasn’t so bad, but then the boy – Jack, maybe? – moved his hand and there was a lot of blood.

“So I was making noodles and-” Jack started sheepishly, but Davey wasn’t having any of it.

“You did that making noodles?!” he asked.

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Loving Tease


Notes: Love batmom so much!  Also, I just noticed I’m only 4 followers away from 100!! 💜 THANK YOU ALL 💜💜💜💜
I hope you like it! I tried to fit into your request to the best of my ability.

Warnings: Violence, blood, swearing, BATMOM FLUFF,

Ummi is Mom in case you didn’t know.

This is a pretty long fic! 

I apologize for the low quality, it was very late when I finished this.

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Lies and Slander

Prompt: Sebastian losing his when when you kick him out after a big fight, and threatinging to never come back ( @theartofimagining13 ) & An outrageous scandal starts when after being provoked by a reporter, Sebastian finally snaps and starts spilling the tea on everything that led to your breakup and how you ended up leaving him for Tom. When tom hears this, he’s so incredibly mad you have to stop him from going after Sebastian. (from @theartofimagining13

Word Count: 1576

Warnings: Fighting, language, mentions of cheating, mental abuse…

Notes: I put two prompts in one. I MAY do a second part, not sure. Y’all lemme know. Beta’d by my wonderful partner in crime @like-a-bag-of-potatoes

Tags: @topthis808 @amarvelouswritings @cocosierra94 @tacohead13


“Kneel, woman!” was read on your phone as you giggled. You were working with Tom on the new Thor movie and he was sending you a few jokes.

“What’s so funny?” Sebastian, your boyfriend of eight months asked innocently as he sat on the other end of the couch, channel flipping. He had semi-moved in after six-months and quickly it was a disaster. Every time you were texting or calling, he demanded to know who it was with. If you went out with friends he wanted proof you weren’t the only girl. He never trusted you and was becoming too controlling and you were fighting about it a lot.

“Oh, just Tom. We’re having a conversation in character sort of,” you explained, the light still in your face.

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call me your

pairing: taeyang/reader
words: 800
summary: waking up early for your music broadening music is kind of lame, but a certain yoo taeyang makes it a bit easier.
notes: university au for anon. lapslock because i wrote this on my phone.

when you’d first enrolled for university, you weren’t really fully prepared for what to expect. on a whim, you’d decided to sign up for a music broadening unit because it seemed fun. but for some inane reason, this unit had classes that started way too early.

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Dangan Ronpa Stage Play

A/N inspired by @holy-shit-dangan-ronpa ’s post and this post

*sigh* if only this was true… Hope you enjoy my deny deny denial.

Dangan Stage Play - what if dr1 was all just a play?

“Upupu… if you want to graduate so badly then you have to kill for it!”

And so the curtains arose to this story of hope versus despair.

Welcome to the VIP access of the behind the scenes of Class 78th’s reknowned performance entitled Dangan Ronpa! (*DISCLAIMER: No characters were actually harmed in the making of this stage play.)

“Oh, but you already know. Sayaka Maizono was killed by one of you!” Enoshima spoke through the microphone with all the dramatic flair she could muster.

Behind the stage was Maizono who was changing her bloodstained clothes. (*NOTE: The blood is pepto-bismol pink because Naegi had accidentally spilled some during one practice and it just kind of stuck.)

“Activating summoning spell. Save me, Spears of Gungnir!” Monokuma yelled and just like that, the form of “Enoshima” was grotesquely stabbed right before the audience. After the scene change, Ikusaba quickly joined Maizono in preparing the setup for the next scene. There’s no rest for the “dead” because there’s also a lot of work going on behind the curtains.

In case you were wondering how they decided on the play and on the roles, here’s what happened while they were brainstorming.

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impress me; continued

SUMMARIZED: Okay, so.. Adam is an asshole. Pete is still up in arms about his feelings and frustrated by Astrid not being herself. Astrid does show a little of herself here so yay! There’s kinda fluff if you blink? Squint? It’s getting there, babes. Slowly. Oh yeah disclaimer. Adam cole is a huuuuge asshole here. huuuuge. I’m not even kidding hen I say I love the man but even I wanted to choke him to death in this chapter.

[fanfics ] [ part i - part ii - part iii - part iv - part v  ]

And now for the tags: @writergrrrl29 I still say this is our story and not  just mine too because your insight has been so much more helpful than you have any idea. @panic-angel3314 I love you for letting me burst into your DMS like the Kool aid kid andall the great ideas you have and you’re amazingly talented, I mean this . Your insight has also given me a lot more help than you realize and I love you for it. @theworldiscolorful I aspire to write like your Demon Finn au, okay? And you’re a kind person and I am enjoying getting to know you. @fan-fiction-galore Raini, my heart. My ray of sunshine. Your encouraging words mean the world to me and I love you, becdause you are one of a kind. And the fluff queen. Because yes. Yes. I also want to tag @tvrnbvckle because I’m getting to know you and I love, love, love, love your Baron story Flickers of Gold and basically everything you’ve written. I wish I could write intense scenes like you. I am really enjoying our conversations too. And I’d also like to tag @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @xfirespritex @sweetmoxleygal. Oh and my lovely @wwesensualfanfics asked to be tagged and I love her too, she’s an awesome person and writer I also enjoy.

Originally posted by petedunnesource

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Happy New Year

Braun Strowman/OC: It’s New Year’s Eve and what better place to let your feelings be known than at a party? There are plenty better, but this is what you got. Smut.

MORE BRAUN SMUT BC OF COURSE IT IS I HAVE A PROBLEM I NEED BRAUN IN MY LIFE. Also shoutout to y’all for either a) being super duper close to making it through 2016(I only have 8 hours left of this shit year) or b) already making it through 2016 and jumping headfirst into 2017. May your 2017 be better, so much better, than 2016 bc all of you sweet lil nuggets deserve to have a better year than what 2016 gave you. Even if your 2016 was fab, here’s to hoping your 2017 is even more fab.

Tagging the normal Braun fic people: @lavitabella87 @omgmissmillie @everybodyfinnfreeze @shadow-of-wonder @screamersdontdance

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Habits - Part 2

Sofia’s Masterlist | Sneha’s Masterlist

(part 1) (part 3)


Finding a place to live in New York City is harder than you thought, and yet when Bucky Barnes makes you an offer you can’t reject, you think your bad luck with hideous apartments might be over. The catch? You two can’t stand each other. (Living with him can’t be that bad, can it?)

Warnings: swearing

Word count: 1214

A/N: Part two to the series co-written entirely by myself and the lovely Sofia (@buckyslion​)

Originally posted by coporolight

Bucky wasn’t lying when he said “five-star quality.” His place is the New York City dream, with large tinted windows that look out over the city’s skyline and a navy blue and white colour scheme that you wouldn’t have ever deemed him capable of maintaining. (Because, let’s be real, Bucky Barnes doesn’t scream stylish when he walks around in a pair of old sweats and a tshirt all day).

Speaking of, you can see Bucky’s smug face from the corner of your eye. He’s leaning against the pillar, eyes trained on you with that godawful omnipresent smirk on his face. You know he saw your sharp intake of breath when you walked in, and you know he knows the answer to his unasked question.

“Great! So we can do all the paperwork later this week, and you can move in whenever.”

You swivel around to face him, eyes narrowed. “I never said I accepted your offer.”

He smiled, showing his teeth this time. “Doll, you didn’t even have to.”

You moved in. Of course you did. At the end of the week you’d shoved all your stuff into a suitcase and then dumped it into the spare room at Bucky’s, filling the room with pictures and clothes and even a plant you got from god-knows-where in a matter of hours. It’s worked out surprisingly nicely since then, mainly because Bucky and you are never home at the same times, which means you don’t have to see his smug face or listen to his stupid voice. The nights are quiet too (you’re a heavy sleeper for the most part, and that might have something to do with it.)

It’s only a week later, when Bucky returns from a mission that you get to experience the joy (!) that is sharing an apartment with him. And the moment you hear something banging against the furniture somewhere in the living room, you remember why you were so skeptical of moving in with him in the first place.

At first, your hazy mind doesn’t even register the sound, but something smashing against the floor makes you bolt up in an instant, all your military training and instincts kicking in as you scramble inside your drawer for your gun. You find it,  cock it, and hold it at the ready, your heart thumping against your chest. It’s late at night, and HYDRA’s still a threat. Especially at Bucky’s house.

Except it’s not HYDRA. It’s not a break in, or anything that requires the slightest use of your military training, because the source of the noise is the asshole himself, standing in the middle of the kitchen, surrounded by pieces of broken porcelain. You lower the gun, and you’re sure he can feel you rolling your eyes. (And he damn well should.)

“What in god’s name are you doing?”

“Oops.” Oops. Fucking oops. Not only is he smashing plates around at an ungodly hour, but he has the audacity to brush it off with an oops.

You squint your eyes at him in disbelief, and he stares right back. There’s a devious smile on his face as his fingers wrap around your favourite mug, a cheap thing you got on a whim during your visit to Niagara Falls when you were a kid.

“What are you doing, Barnes?” Your voice has reached a dangerously low pitch.

His smirk doesn’t fade as he picks it off of the shelf that you so graciously placed it on a few days ago. He examines it, turning it around in his hands, scrunches his nose in disgust, and then throws it across the room, the mug smashing into a million pieces against one of the walls.

You’re sure your eyes are the size of saucers. “Are you fucking insane?”

“We need new dishes,” he shrugs. “Besides, that mug was ugly anyway.”

Breathe, Y/N. Count backwards from ten. Relax. The words of years of military therapy flood your mind as you all but smash his head against the wall, much like he did your mug, because what kind of obnoxious, messed up idiot breaks dishes on purpose, let alone at three in the fucking morning?

“So you just, what? Decide to throw them against the fucking wall?” If Bucky’s even the slightest bit terrified by the shrillness of your voice, he doesn’t show it, leaning casually against the kitchen counter instead.

After a moment of smiling, he shrugs again. “Well, I dropped one. Figured I might as well get rid of the rest. All the plates were chipped anyway.”

“What kind of person does that?”

“My house, my rules.” he says, and you’re one split second away from using the gun that’s now safely tucked into your pyjama pants.

You’re too tired to yell at him, so you settle for a dangerous glare and a threatening finger pointing at him instead. “You’re an asshole, Barnes. A fucked up asshole. And you owe me a new mug,” you tell him as you return to your room, rubbing sleep from your eyes and toying with your gun, seriously considering it for future use. “And you’re cleaning that up!” You yell, right before closing your bedroom door, leaving him to handle the mess.


Two days later, you wake up to a loud banging on your door, before it opens completely, revealing a half naked Barnes in nothing but a towel covering his lower half. Your eyes don’t even travel that far down his body though, because you’re stuck staring at the mess he calls his hair.

It’s pink.

Neon pink.

You try your best at feigning innocence, attempting to keep a straight face. “What’s wrong?”

He’s seething, you can tell. He clenches and unclenches his fists, nostrils flaring and breathing in and out slowly, a muscle ticking in his jaw. You want to laugh, yell ‘karma’s a bitch’ right in his face, but the effect of pretending like it’s no big deal is so much greater.

He glares at you, then points to his head. “What the fuck is this?”

“Your hair?”

He runs his tongue over his teeth. “I know it’s my hair, you idiot. Believe it or not my brain still works after hearing your voice on the regular. What I don’t understand is, why the fuck is it pink?”

You shrug. “I don’t know Barnes, it’s your hair, not mine.”

“How do I fix it?” There’s a tinge of desperation in his voice, and you almost feel bad. But then the image of your mug shattering into a million pieces flashes in your mind, and all remorse is replaced with the satisfaction at seeing him so distressed.

“Your hair, you figure it out.” He’s frustrated. His face is red, a vein showing in his arm, and he looks like he’s going to spontaneously combust.

He opens his mouth to say something, but a beep from your phone cuts him off, and before he can storm at you, you’re lifting a finger, effectively shutting him up.

“Well, look at that,” you show him your screen, where Steve’s message is displayed. He takes a moment to read it, face growing redder by the second.

Urgent mission briefing in twenty. Please be there.

“I guess you’ll have to figure it out after our meeting.”

Tags are open (and below cut)

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Open Water: Pt. 9

A Bucky x Reader / AU

Master List

A/N: I’m so sorry this took a bit. Only one more part left! Please let me know what you think. I love hearing from you! ♥

Word Count: 1,377

- language.

Tags: (at the bottom)

*gif is not mine.

The entire cab ride to Bucky’s apartment, your stomach was in knots. You had never seen his apartment before, and only went by the address he’d written down on the piece of paper Natasha had slipped to you upon leaving the hospital. You were terrified; terrified that what you and Bucky had wasn’t real, that everything you’d been through together on the island was what brought you closer and nothing else. Maybe, if your boat hadn’t crashed, you’d still hate one another. But you didn’t hate him now. Your love for him was real, and you knew deep in your heart it was.

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Stalking Converts And Other Inappropriate Actions

I thought an awful lot about the post I wanted to make about this.

@fromchaostocosmos and @wetwareproblem spoke about it obliquely already, but I feel like - after discussing it with a few people who have been Jews far longer than I, and getting advice and opinions from at least four Jews (so I have at least twelve opinions at hand) - I need to speak up about what has happened, or what was intended to have happened.

To be clear, before I begin to unwind what was intended to be done to me, I need to make clear: I am not the first person this has happened to, and I am not the first convert that this has happened to, in the course of ‘the discourse’ on Tumblr. 

I am just the most recent. 

In the course of following back the most recent hits on my IP counter - and those who have been badmouthing me (again) and calling me a bad Jew (again) because I don’t agree with them on discourse matters - I found a thread on an anonymous forum on another journaling site. I am not going to link to this thread, but rest assured that it (and the traffic that came from it) has been archived, along with the IP addresses of the people who came from there and searched for ‘synagogue’ and rifled through the tag about my conversion. 

If you think I didn’t see you doing that, you’re wrong. I did see you. And I expect that. In the words of my rabbi, ‘every conversion is called into question these days, which seems to be a modern issue more than anything else. But every conversion is called into question at some point.’ So, having had that conversation with him some time ago, I have been patiently wading through all of the questioning of my conversion, questioning or calling wrong the fact that I call myself ‘Jewish’ (at my rabbi’s express and explicit instruction), calling out the fact that I have the audacity to tag posts about Judaism with the words ‘religion’ and ‘faith,’ calling the actions I take on the advice of my mentors and rabbi to be wrong. Et cetera. I expected that. I expected that very much, and I continue to expect that. 

What I did not expect, however, was a thread which appeared to be written by both Jews and goyim, in which they a) spoke at length about the ways in which neo-Nazi organizations like Stormfront would rifle through people’s journals in order to doxx them and do them harm and then b) immediately thereafter explained how they had rifled through my journal in order to find the synagogue that I attend so that they could call or write a letter to my rabbi in order to do harm to my conversion process. 

Yes, you read that correctly - immediately after saying that this was what neo-Nazis do to Jews, they proceeded to do exactly the same thing to me. They wrote and proofread the letter that they intended to send to my rabbi, they discussed whether a Jew or a goy should send the email. They debated whether they should include the discourse in it - which seems to point pretty clearly to what the real issue is, and what the real aims are. 

And they were very concerned that I might call it ‘harassment.’ I’m not sure what else you would call this course of action, but they were very, very concerned about that. 

Whether or not they sent the email or called my rabbi (which one? We have two) - well, I don’t know. I do know that certainly neither one of them brought it up to me, but I also know that on the advice of a number of people here, I will be advising my rabbis about the ‘bullying’ (not my word) that has been happening on Tumblr, the targeted harassment and bullying of myself and other converts. Just in case they get a call.

Let’s be very clear: my rabbis both know that I am an activist, and they know where I am active. I am connected with my supervising rabbi on social media, and have been for months. It has been at my senior rabbi’s express request, without prompting from me, that I have gone to represent our synagogue at a trans conference, with his request that I bring back ideas as to how to make our synagogue more inclusive. 

I debated for a couple days whether I wanted to even make this post, because the last thing I want to do is make converts not want to speak up and share their conversion process. Unfortunately, in the current climate, with the current bullying and doxxing and contacting of rabbis and harassment of converts on Tumblr, I absolutely cannot sit here and stay quiet. As much as I don’t want to quiet people or keep them from sharing their process, and the joy they have in that process, as I do, I don’t want them to suffer the kind of panic-inducing ‘missing stair’ moment that I had a couple of days ago when I realized the utter viciousness to which some people would sink in the name of the discourse. 

And let’s make one more thing utterly, perfectly clear while we are here: if the people who intended to try to pike my relationship with my rabbi had somehow been successful in doing so, the person they would have hurt the most would not have been me. The person they would have hurt the most had they succeeded in hurting my relationship with my synagogue is a sixteen-year-old trans lesbian who happens to be my daughter. The one who is deeply involved in her synagogue and who has grown and blossomed so much from being connected to a faith community that accepts her as she is. 

I’m an adult. I could have handled it and fixed the situation far more readily. I’ve been through a lot of bullying online since the 1990s. You fuckers aren’t the first to act in such a deplorable fashion. But she would have been hit with the spray you intended to fire at me.

So much for ‘coming together to protect LGBT people’, I guess. 

Converts: protect yourselves if you participate in the discourse at all. Do not post anything that might lead back to your synagogue. Frankly, don’t post anything at all about your conversion. It’s safest that way. I won’t be posting anything else about mine, including when I make the journey through the mikveh. I have absolutely no intention of providing any ability for anyone to audit my conversion process other than the rabbi who is in charge of it. 

Everyone who is responsible, who jumps around blocks and talks shit, who tries to audit my conversion process and the processes of others: dude, you fucking know what you did and what you are doing is wrong. There is no excuse for this. None. I don’t care what you think you are doing, what you have done is harassment, stalking, and abuse. And you are not invisible, no matter how much you might think you are. What you are doing is not okay, and you know it.

Leave my family and I alone. We want nothing to do with you. 

Can We Happily Discuss...

The Third Time It Happened?

Hey, my loves! It’s been too long since I bestowed a Leia fic upon you. This is part 3/? of the story of how Captain Killian-can’t-get-enough-of-his-daughter Jones can’t stop waking up in the middle of the night because he’s just too stinkin in love with his little girl. Leia is 8 weeks old now. This is literally nothing but fluff, AS ALWAYS.

Click here if you missed the first time it happened.
Click here if you missed the second time it happened. 

Tagging some people who enjoyed the first parts and left kind words! Here’s some more for you @naiariddle @vigilantewives @flslp87 @thegladelf @sunshine-and-the-catsuit @raggedyclaraa



The third time it happens is a classic. Leia is 8 weeks old. Emma wakes to the sound of Killian’s voice again, but this time he isn’t showering Leia with loving compliments; this time, he’s telling her important stories.

“And then, your mummy had the audacity to run straight into the barn. Can you believe her, duckling? So of course, Daddy ran straight in after her. Couldn’t let her tumble back in time all by herself, could I?”

Emma bites her lip to keep from laughing aloud. She crawls from her side of the bed to Killian’s, grabbing hold of the baby monitor. (Killian insists it lay upon his nightside table. Which of course, does not surprise Emma in the slightest.)

Before Killian can get too much further in the story, Emma presses the button that makes the little screen pop out, and switches the monitor from audio mode to video mode. (Killian has no idea that video mode exists. She dares not tell him. Emma knows that if he knew about it, he’d never sleep again; he’d literally spend all night staring at the little screen, watching their daughter snooze.)

When the video kicks in she can see Leia and Killian in the rocking chair. This time he’s got his knees up, the baby girl lounging against the tops of her daddy’s thighs in her pink sailboat pyjamas.

“So then, Mummy and Daddy found….well, another daddy in a tavern. Mummy had to distract the other daddy while I went to talk to Grandma, and I was quite sad about it, actually,” he admits, and Emma muffles her maniacal laughter in her pillow.

“But the other daddy fell straight in love with your mummy, I assure you. You’ll soon learn that it doesn’t matter the time or place, little love. Mummy and I are like magnets, always drawn to each other no matter the circumstances. Actually, I think you’re a little magnet yourself. Because we sure are stuck on you.”

He pauses the story, taking a minute to just look at her. She’s still so small, even after 8 weeks. Killian strokes each of her teeny toes before tracing the sailboat patterns on her belly. Each of his movements are so tender and instinctual, and in that moment Emma finds it impossible to believe that he was once a ruthless pirate, a man to be feared. She’d known he was going to be an amazing father, but each and every day he exceeds her wildest expectations. He is always so gentle and quiet with her, always ensuring that she has whatever she needs. Emma thought she knew the depth of Killian’s love before Leia arrived, but she’d been so, so wrong. His love for their daughter is unending and unparalleled. That love is the most precious thing in Emma’s entire world, and she would willingly give up anything if it were ever threatened. Anything.

“And so, we went to the royal ball at King Midas’ castle. Mummy wore the most beautiful red dress in all the realms, and her hair looked like gold spun by the crocodile himself. She was absolutely breathtaking.”

Emma closes her eyes for a while, letting herself enjoy the story. He’d picked a good one. She laughs while Killian explains to Leia how she got her name. “Your brother says the real Princess Leia is a warrior of the galaxy or something as such. But that’s nonsense, little bird. You, of course, are the real princess Leia to me.”

Emma smiles, another memory bubbling to the surface.

“You’re sure that’s what you want to call her?”

“Aye, love. Leia Swan-Jones. As long as you approve, of course.”

“Yeah, I love it. But we really don’t have to hyphenate, Killian. We don’t need to have the Swan in there. Leia Jones is just as nice.”

“Of course we need the Swan in there, love. She’s just as much yours as she is mine. She’s our little duckling, and everything in her life should remind her that she’ll always have the both of us. Everything, including her name.”

“And I ask you yet again, Killian. What if it’s a boy? We do not have a boy name picked out whatsoever.”

“Not to worry, Swan. It’s a girl.”

Emma is whisked back to the current moment when Killian’s storytelling voice drops to a whisper and she finds she has to press her ear right up against the little machine to keep listening.

“And as we danced together for the very first time, I felt something change, little love. Now, this part’s a secret, so we’ll have to keep it right here between you and me, alright?”

Emma’s eyes widen and she presses her ear as close to the monitor as it can get.

“After Mummy did the little walkabout around me and then came back into my arms, there was something different. Something in her eyes. A little more sparkle, a little less of a shield. And that’s when I knew, Leia. In that very moment, Daddy could tell that Mummy loved him just as much as he did her. Now of course, Daddy knew he couldn’t say anything about it, not right then. We were dealing with a crisis. But still, it made Daddy’s heart flutter as fast as yours did when I first heard it.”

Emma feels her heart do all sorts of flips and flops. Of course, she’d come to realize sometime after that night that she’d fallen in love with him during that dance. But the fact that he could tell at the time…well, it was only more proof in the pile of evidence that he knew her much better than she knew herself.

“And speaking of your breathtaking mummy,” he coos, back to speaking a little louder, “I’d best get back to her, little love. She’s just like you, she loves her warm snuggles. She might be getting cold all alone down the hall, hmm? Shall I go and gather her back into my arms before she wakes and catches us?”

Emma watches Killian stand, hugging Leia tightly to his chest before setting her carefully back into her crib. “I love you so much, sweetheart,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss her cheek softly. “And Mummy does, too. We’ll never leave you, darling. We’ll always be right here.

After a few more seconds, Emma watches Killian turn to leave the room. Quickly she snaps the screen back into place and puts the monitor back on the bedside table before scrambling back to her side of the bed and doing her best to fake-sleep. She makes sure her breathing is deep and even and shuts her eyes. In a few seconds, she hears Killian open and close their door quietly, before walking over to their bed.

She has to work really hard at her sleeping facade as she feels Killian’s fingers brushing the hair away from her face. And not only just that; a beat later, she feels his lips on her forehead. “I love you, darling,” he whispers, and a giant, giant lump forms in Emma’s throat. What did she do to deserve such a kind, loving man who kisses her and whispers sweet nothings to her even when she’s unconscious?

She feels him climb into bed, and soon after he’s making good on his promise to Leia. His arms snake around her, encouraging her to roll over and lie chest-to-chest with him. She accidentally forgets that she’s supposed to be pretending to sleep, because she all too willingly snuggles against him, nuzzling her face against his collarbone, where Leia had just been. She loves that both of their distinct scents drift pleasantly into her nose.

Rubbing her back, Killian kisses her head before whispering almost inaudibly. “Are you awake, sweetheart? Is everything alright?”

“Yeah,” she whispers, and she’s shocked at how thick with emotion her voice is. The lump is still in her throat, the strength of her love and appreciation for him threatening to overwhelm her.

He immediately senses the emotion in her tone, and he tilts her chin up so that he can look at her face, his thumb resting in the cleft of her chin. He sees little tears forming in her eyes. “What is it, Emma? Did you have a bad dream?”

“No,” she assures him, leaning into his touch, loving the feel of his strong, calloused palm against her cheek. “It wasn’t a bad dream. It was a good dream. A really, really good dream.

“Yeah? Well I’m glad to hear that, darling. Do you want to tell me about it?”

“Nah, s’okay,” she tells him, making her tone sound sleepy. (It isn’t hard, she is sleepy.) “Maybe we can talk about it in the morning. I just love you, and Leia, and Henry, and you, so, so, so much.”

He smiles at her, brushing his nose against hers before pulling her back against his chest, squeezing her tight and encouraging her to sleep by rubbing his knuckles softly against her scalp. “We love you too, Swan. We love you too.

And that was the third time.

soloontherocks-moving-refollow  asked:

things I now think about too much: what happened during Anders' harrowing. How did he deal with it. What demons did he face. These are the questions that keep me up at night.

(Whoops, my fingers slipped. This is based on the headcanon that this codex entry from DA:I pertains to Anders’ Harrowing. Tbh I’ve never actually seen a fic detailing his Harrowing, so now there is one. Dialogue is also borrowed heavily from the magi origin because most of it is probably the same, given how the Chantry likes their speeches and rituals and rites and whatnot)

[Also on AO3]

It was the middle of the night when Anders was harshly woken and all but dragged from his bed. Even in his half-asleep stupor, he knew what was coming. He was of age, and he’d known it would come eventually. The Harrowing. As much as he feared it, the fact that they were taking him meant that, despite all his trouble making, at least he wouldn’t be made Tranquil. Whatever this ritual entailed, even if it meant his death, it must have been preferable than being made a soulless husk. The blonde held on to that thought as the Templars kept him moving, trying to ignore his heart threatening to burst through his ribcage.

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Imagine stealing the Impala on a hunt...

Requested by delusional-princess. Enjoy! XOXO

The pulse of adrenaline in your veins was the only thing keeping you on your feet. You’d been awake for almost three days, tracking and chasing this thing (whatever it was), and you were so damn close.

And this was your kill.

You didn’t even feel guilty that you had jumped into this car that didn’t belong to you and taken off. The hunter you stole it from should’ve paid more attention. Simple as that. His loud “Son of a bitch!” was still ringing in your ears, and you almost grinned at the memory of his face as he watched you drive away.

He’d get over it, you thought. You knew where he was staying, and you’d give it back to him after the hunt, if he didn’t catch up with you sooner.

Besides, what were you supposed to do? You had been tracking this monster for two and a half weeks, and those two hunters were NOT going to come rushing in to steal the glory. It had been too easy to slip into the car as they checked out the house you’d already searched, to speed off to the old factory outside of town where you knew the thing was hiding.

And what a nice car it was. It was a classic, sleek and gorgeous, all glossy metal and soft leather, and it practically purred as you pressed down on the gas pedal. It was well taken care of, and you were suddenly curious to know more about the man who owned it.

You got your chance.

You parked outside the gate at the factory and were deciding on the best way to attack when a second car pulled up next to you. The two men jumped out, the shorter one looking almost lethal as he charged toward you.

“Keys. Now.” His voice was low and restrained, and you could feel the strain in his muscles as he fought to control his temper.

Tossing the keys in his direction, you shrugged. “I would have given it back to you. You didn’t need to steal another one.”

“Dean,” the taller one said, in a voice that was clearly a warning not to do anything stupid, “Come on. We don’t have time for a fight.” He nodded toward the factory.

“Oh, no. This one is mine, boys. I’m sorry you went through all the trouble of coming down here, but I don’t need your help.”

Dean’s face was flushed with anger and his fists clenched open and shut at his sides. “We aren’t helping you, because you aren’t going in there. You got in our way, then you stole my car. You aren’t doing anything except getting the hell away from me.”

You glanced at the other hunter. “Is he always this stubborn? It’s not a good look.”

Both of them stared at you with open mouths, as if they couldn’t believe your audacity. You just chuckled and reached into the stolen car for your gun. “Fine. You can tag along. But after I kill this thing, I expect you to give me a ride home.”

You turned and began walking toward the factory, listening to Dean sputter angrily behind you as the other man began to laugh.

what a lovely way to burn

[update: now also on ao3]

pairing: rhack

summary: Rhys is, sometimes, almost entertaining enough. But he’s also asleep or off-station or working way too often and it’s not like Jack’s bothered by it, no, but he doesn’t sleep or visit Pandora any more and spending all of his time on Helios, as Helios is starting to get to him.

He finds a lone employee at some ass end of the station, orders a loader bot to kick the man in the face, and then decides that he’s bored as dicks and he needs to do something. Like… Rhys. Talk to Rhys, that is. He doesn’t want to… do… well, anyway–


Rhys discovers the chair has a lot of fun drug-injecting buttons. Jack discovers he needs a body, right now, immediately. Rhys’ will do.

notes: so this a Handsome Rhys au of sorts; basically Helios doesn’t fall, Jack and Rhys rule, (i don’t know what happens to the rest of the plot hahh,) the usual. also i have no idea what i’m doing forgive me

content warnings for, oh god, i don’t know? vague mentions of ambiguous Pandoran drugs, soft choking (or strangling, if you prefer), consensual possession(i think???), broadly defined sinning

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anonymous asked:

Prompt: "my summer job is working at a coffee shop and this cutie comes in everyday so one day I finally write my number on their drink but then YOU grab the cup by accident and when you call me I don’t know how to turn you down so I end up going on a date with you but wow, actually you’re hotter and more charming than my original crush so it worked out well" PLS WRITE IT YOURE THE BEST

AHH well, anon, there comes a point in every fanfic writer’s life when they write a coffee shop AU. Here is mine. Thanks for the prompt! :)

Oh and I took your prompt and kind of changed it up because I’m a bad person like that. I hope you don’t mind! My brain is a jerk.

The title is from a Lights song ‘cause I clearly don’t do that enough *cough*. And it has not been beta’d or proofread because I’m sure platypiandi is asleep and my wife is asleep and I am hopeless without those two.

You are a cliffhanger ending; I’m the one that doesn’t know anything
Rating: G
Pairings: Hollstein, slight Hollence but only as a way for me to describe how pretty Sharon Belle is


Five more minutes.

Laura’s crush came in every day at 7:40 am, just before the morning rush, but never long enough for Laura to get the nerve to ask for her name or even her number. But! That was okay. Today she had a plan. And in ten minutes she was going to execute it, flawlessly, as she did all her plans.

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At Stake (Yutaka Tennoji x OC x Hiroshi Kirisawa) (Angst)

Part 1

This story was prompted by a sentence prompt that I saw after I wrote the fluffy Tennoji fic. This is the first part of my angst/smut story. For my other works, please check out my masterpost! Enjoy!

Tagging: @hifftn, @obiwanmcprobie, @valogirl, @smile-smile-ichthys, @clairese1980, @voltage-trash, @trustmeimthehiddlestoner, @princessvampella


“Please. Don’t do this.”

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anonymous asked:

if u dont mind my asking... what's going on with the tag and the olympics?

If you know anything about me or my country you will know I didn’t expect shit from this, the whole nation was preparing for an epic disaster and humiliation, but we got this beautiful and flawless ceremony and I am so FUCKING PROUD that I don’t want to let Americans or anyone else ruin this beautiful moment we created.

There were several compliments and we are happy for it, but I was unlucky of seeing some comments here and there from Brazilians in my twitter feed that reblogged or said something about it (it being Americans acting superior) I had a quick look in the English tag (#OpeningCeremony) but I went back to the Brazilian one because I didn’t want to ruin this moment for me.

The 14 BIS thing – me and any Brazilian will fight till death over this, it’s a technically but that technicality gives Santos Dumont the crown of aviation pioneer that build a working aircraft that flew by its own.

I saw comments about how brazil was arrogant and snubbing the US by not letting them go in the end with the letter U. That pissed me off for several reasons:

a)    This is such a petty argument, like wow, I just can’t. Who even cares? But it pissed me that they were acting like we were jealous and decided to punish them. Wtf??????? they have the audacity of saying we were the arrogant ones?

b)    The nation order is defined by the language used, you can use French language order OR the order according to the host nation native language. That’s what’s happened, it wasn’t ‘snubbing’ and I don’t give a fuck if Barak Obama petitioned for you guys to go with the U. In Portuguese United Estates starts with the letter ‘E’ and that’s final. If you guys gonna write Brasil with a ‘Z’ and not and ‘S’ you don’t come here and make demands.

Also saw comments about music and this one also stroke a cord because f*** u but we have AMAZING rhythms if you don’t like it no one is asking you to listen and that’s the sort of shit you should keep to yourself because its offensive, if you don’t like someone’s culture that’s your problem and not ours so don’t you think that me as a Brazilian won’t get pissed and protective, this is mine and if you going to attack I am going to attack back.

We have our problems with Brazil, but it’s not written in our anthem that we are going to fight for Brazil till our death by chance.

Again, these opinions DO NOT REPRESENT THE MAJORITY of tweets by any chance!!!!!! But I saw them and it did bother me, and honestly? Rightfully so.