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A Quiet Morning

Written for @jamilton-central (Because TJ is a gift to the world) and @virusap (Because they seemed upset when I said I write angst while they’re alseep, so I wrote this while I know they’re awake- better?)

If you comment or leave nice things in the tags I’ll die and haunt you and you’ll have a ghost friend so that’s a pretty good deal.

6:04 AM

Alexander did not typically wake up before Thomas. On most days, Thomas would be awake long before he was, in order to get the things done that Alexander was too preoccupied to do. But that day was a warm spring morning, and the sunlight flooding in through the window across the bedroom perfectly lit Thomas’s face. Alexander didn’t particularly mind such a situation. He ran his fingers through Thomas’s dark curls, gently untangling the knots as the taller man’s chest rose and fell with each unconscious breath.

As Thomas’s dark eyes futtered open, Alexander could see a tired smile form on his face. Thomas placed his arms around his boyfriend, holding him closely and pressing a kiss to his forehead. Alexander let out a soft laugh at the movement, lifting his head to kiss the other man firmly on the lips. The kiss was warm and slow, the pace held back by sleepiness but still sweet and soft. After a few moments, Thomas pulled away from the kiss first, smiling at his beloved.

Pulling his arms away, Thomas sat up and left the bed to get into the shower, a sound of rushing water echoing through the room after a little while. Sitting up as well, Alexander reached for his phone to check what meetings and such he had scheduled for the day. Scrolling through the list, one in particular caught his eye. ‘Thomas leaves for business’ was on his calendar, set for later that evening. He supposed that it was just one of those things that came with Thomas’s job, something he’d typed out and forgotten a while back.

Setting his phone back on the nightstand, Alexander left the bed, not paying much attention to the twisted sheets laid across it. The quiet sound of the shower turning off told Alexander that Thomas was done, as did the man in question when he came back into the bedroom, smiling softly at Alexander as he did so. Alexander grabbed a towel from the closet and set off to the shower himself, thankful that Thomas hadn’t used all the hot water when he turned it on.

Stepping in, Alexander nearly laughed-as he always did-at the sight of Thomas’s expensive, brightly colored French hair soap. The Virginian had insisted on buying it because ‘his hair was too gorgeous to use American-grade soaps’. Laughing softly at the memory, Alexander quickly showered before stepping out and turning off the water. The bathmat was still stained a rather vibrant shade of neon green because of an incident involving a party, Peggy Schuyler, and a set of gel pens. They still weren’t allowed to speak of that night.

Quickly walking back to the bedroom and changing into his work clothes, Alexander walked back out and into the kitchen. Standing there was Thomas, already changed into his business clothes and singing to himself in French as he poured coffee into a plain, white mug and a mug with little violets painted on it.

“Je T'aime, mon amour, Je T’aime à la folie, mon cher,” He sang sweetly, too lost in the tune to realize that Alexander was listening in. The curtains were open, a clear view of the bustling city of New York visible dozens of floors below them.

“Je T’aime…” Alexander softly spoke, wrapping his arms around Thomas as he did so. He could feel Thomas relaxing under his touch, and let the other man turn around to face him and kiss him again. This kiss was a simple one, sweet and loving and over far too soon.

“Good morning, love. How did you sleep?” Thomas inquired, pulling away from the embrace and handing Alexander his coffee.

“Perfectly fine with you next to me, Tommy.” Alexander responded, jokingly winking at the other man before sipping on his coffee and turning around towards the table where his briefcase had been placed. “Are you going somewhere today?”

“I will be gone on a business meeting. I should be home fairly late. Don’t stay awake waiting for me.” Thomas told him, grabbing his own briefcase and showing Alexander a faint smile.

“Alright. I’ll miss you,Tommy..” Alexander said, pulling Thomas into another embrace and kissing him again.

“I’ll miss you too, darling.” Thomas replied as soon as the kiss was over, his face still close to Alexander’s own. Alexander stepped away and left for work, shouting a hurried goodbye at Thomas as he ran down the sets of stairs to the ground floor.

When Alexander got home later that night, he could feel his heart shatter as a man in a military uniform handed him a folded flag, saying that he was sorry for Alexander’s loss.

6:10 AM

The soft tugging on his hair was enough to waken Thomas from an uneasy sleep. His eyes slowly opened to show him the sight of Alexander- his sweet, loving Alexander, who had no clue what would happen. Thomas had to resist the urge to tell him, to beg him to take the day off so that they could spend Thomas’s last day with him.

Holding the words back, he wrapped his arms around Alexander, pulling him in for a kiss. Alexander’s lips were soft against his own, moving gently in a tired dance. But Thomas knew that he couldn’t do this to Alexander. He couldn’t make him think today was going to be a good day, that everything would go perfectly. Because this was most likely the last morning he could spend with Alexander in his arms, gently biting at his lower lip through a sleep-hazed kiss.

Pulling away, he smiled at Alexander before leaving the bed and heading to the shower. As soon as he stepped under the flow of the rushing water, he let his tears fall. He had known all along that this would have to happen. That even being in a short-term relationship was a bad idea, with the job he had. But he hadn’t cared, and he’s met Alexander, and fuck, loving Alexander was probably the single most amazing thing he’d ever done.

He didn’t bother turning on the hot water- he knew it would be a waste anyways, if he was just using his shower as an excuse to cry without fearing that Alexander would overhear- oh god, how would Alexander react? He knew of the basics of Thomas’s job, yes, but not the real parts. Not the parts that meant leaving him. Not the parts that meant Thomas’s death.

Trying his best to push away those thoughts, Thomas turned off the shower and wrapped his towel around his waist, leaving the bathroom and heading to his bedroom, where he would change. He saw Alexander in their room, and he could have sworn that if his heart wasn’t already broken, it was most definitely shattered by the sweet smile Alexander gave him as he walked out of the room.

Quickly dressing, Thomas realized that his glasses weren’t where he’d left them. Great, just fucking great. Pulling open the nightstand drawer, he searched through it with no success. Walking over to Alexander’s side of the bed, he searched through the other man’s nightstand, but instead of finding his glasses, his hand rested on a small velvet box tucked away in the back corner of the drawer. Taking it out, he inspected it. It was small, and looked fairly new. It almost reminded him of one of those boxes used for engagement rings- oh. Oh. Thomas felt his heart stop as he opened the box to find a simple gold band with a magenta stone set in the center.

No. Not today. Any day but today. Alexander was going to- Alexander wouldn’t be able to. They weren’t going to get married, and the most certainly weren’t getting engaged, because Thomas was going to die. Closing the box, Thomas shoved it back into the drawer, closing it quickly. He wouldn’t need his reading glasses, anyways.

He walked into the kitchen and began to brew coffee, pulling out their two mugs. Alexander’s had a chip in it from being dropped after he’d fallen asleep holding it. Thomas had always been telling Alexander to sleep more, pulling him away to bed for soft kisses and cuddles- but when he was gone, who would do that? No one. Alexander would work harder than before, throwing himself into his work in grief.

The soft beeping of the coffee machine dragged him out of his thoughts, and he grabbed the coffee pot and began to pour, mindlessly singing a song he’d heard in France. “Je T'aime, mon amour, Je T’aime à la folie, mon cher,” he sang, voice low.

“Je T’aime,” He heard a familiar voice say, the shorter man wrapping his arms around him. He turned around to see Alexander’s smiling face staring up at him and he had to hold back tears once more. He kissed the other man softly, and far too quickly, but he needed to remember what he was doing today. He couldn’t let thoughts of a grief-stricken Alexander plague his mind.

“Good morning, love. How did you sleep?” Thomas inquired, pulling away from the embrace and handing Alexander his coffee. He hoped that Alexander had slept better than he had, his dreams filled with agony words cannot describe.

“Perfectly fine with you next to me, Tommy.” Alexander responded with a humorous wink. It did nothing to lessen the dull pain Thomas felt as his heart broke. “Are you going somewhere today?”

“I will be gone on a business meeting. I should be home fairly late. Don’t stay awake waiting for me.” Thomas told him, grabbing his own briefcase and showing Alexander a faint smile. He needed to stay strong. Alexander couldn’t know. He couldn’t.

“Alright. I’ll miss you,Tommy..” Alexander said, and Thomas felt his beloved’s arms wrap behind his neck as Alexander kissed him once more. Thomas allowed himself to sink into this kiss, his last one before Alexander would never see him again.

“I’ll miss you too, darling.”  He responded, waving a goodbye at Alexander as the shorter man left their apartment for work.

He had accepted the mission years ago, when he had nothing to lose. He had accepted a suicide mission, where he would have time to live before he had to fight. If only he had remembered not to love as well as stay alive while he waited the mission. But he was glad that he could remember the feeling of Alexander’s soft lips on his own as he took his dying breath later that very same day.

Okay headcanon where Alec and Magnus have to go visit two of Magnus’s really old time friends who happen to be lesbian warlocks they’re all talking and Alec asks what all the flags on the wall mean when in reality their Lgbtq+ pride flags. Alec growing up in the Institute having no idea those existed. After one of the warlocks finishes explaining. He nods softly and goes “I should get one.” and the girl warlock looks at him and goes “which one?” and he kinda blushes and goes “the gay one.” and she gets up walks over to the wall unpins the flag folds it and hands it to Alec and later on the EP we see it hanging on his wall.

me as a superhero just called Trans Woman and my outfit is just like, a bunch of trans pride flags folded and tied into as many different articles of clothing as i can think of at any given moment. my superpowers primarily involve being trans, and, laser vision, but the lasers are also trans pride colours

Funeral Honors

“Since I was born, I have found out over the years that I am spiritually tuned or sensitive, I can feel negative energies in places, or people. I believe in this due to some unsettling things that have happened in my childhood. Also I have been known to drag some stuff around like energies or feelings. 

I joined the Navy Reserves in 2015 and after I was done with basic training and my rate training, I went back to Miami, where my NOSC (Naval Operational Support Center) is. That’s where selected reservists have to go after training to do their 2 drill periods a month. Also, first time members to the NOSC have to do an initial two weeks active duty, which is basically helping out at the NOSC with whatever they need. 

So I show up on an indoc (indoctrination) day, on the drill weekend right after I graduated school. Anyway, I am in indoc and I am being told of ways to get good evals, like volunteering, planning special events etc. As they are scrolling by, I see the funeral honors team. I am intrigued by the funeral honors, so they tell me that it’s when they send out a team (usually 3 to 4 members of the NOSC) to go perform last rites and services, usually to retired veterans either at cemeteries, funeral homes, churches or homes. 

The team is made up of a bugler, two people who fold the flag, and the presenter. Anyway, long story short, I was put on the team. I started out bugling, and I was doing good. I’d like to make a note that I had done 15 funerals and nothing went wrong, not during them and not after. 

However, during the 16th one I did, I accidentally touched the tombstone of an old woman. Now, I did not think anything of it because I had my protection from my rosary and some “spirit water” my grandma prepared. The women in my family are spiritually sensitive as well. And since they knew I was doing funerals they gave me said protection. 

Well, after I accidentally touched the tombstone, I did not think twice about it. I went on as usual, I did my part and after I finished, I went home, you know it’s all good. I started to feel tired, I did the funeral in the morning so I decided to take a nap around 5pm. I go to sleep as usual and nothing was wrong. 

I eventually awaken but when I wake up I feel drugged, I cant move it feels like I woke up from surgery. I try to move but I don’t have the strength. It feels like I’m simultaneously drugged and drained, I feel horrible. I panic and I pick up my phone and I see that its 3am. 

At this point I freak out a little and call my sister. I tell her need help and she hears me with this weak and groggy voice and calls my mom. They burst in my room and see me pale, having trouble breathing and moving. My mom ushers me to the bathroom where I take a shower, I feel a little better and my mom puts sage around my room. I finally get out of the shower and explain what happened. 

My mom theorizes I picked up the old woman’s final days , what she was physically feeling. It was intense. It made me more cautious about how I go about in funeral homes and cemeteries.”

By: @strongerghosts

Dear Y/N

Military AU

Pairing: Soldier!Mark x Reader

Requested? Nope, just to break the hearts of all you wonderful readers out there

Summary: The man you love goes to war and handling it is a lot harder than you thought it would be. All you have are his letters and words that he’ll return one day.

Warnings: lots of angst- I teared up a lot writing it

Word Count: 2600

Notes: Hey, it’s about time that you heard from me on this tumblr because wow there’s another author that exists I’m glad that I showed up and I really hope you enjoy ~ Mel

alternate ending
(read this AFTER you read this one; it makes so much more sense that way.)


The beginning of what felt like your end started with his deployment. You knew that it would be inevitable; it was only a matter of time before you received the call that changed the both of your lives- Mark was going back on his military tour. It’s not that you weren’t proud of him, of course you were. He was doing an amazing service for his country and home, but that didn’t mean that you weren’t worried. You recalled the time when he was first called to duty, and how upset the both of you had become with each other-

“Y/N I have to go. It’s an HONOR to perform the service that I have been called to do to,” he had said sternly, trying to keep his cool. He understood where you were coming from, but he couldn’t have you making him second-guess everything that he’s known.

“But Mark I can’t lose you…”

Keep reading

happening to me [just a dream]

So, I sent @change-the-rules the first part of this when I first thought of it, then I expanded it, and sent it to @loumauve, and, yeah

angst with a bittersweet end

Not really a fic, more of a summary/outline of a fic idea.

Title is from Carrie Underwood’s ‘Just a Dream’, which, if you know that song, may give you an idea of where this goes.

Part One

The thing about being in the Army, is that you belong to the Army.

And Lucy belongs to the Army, so when she gets the orders to ship overseas, on an 18 month deployment, not just a secret mission, she goes.

But she has to do one thing first.

In the couple of months between getting the orders and being shipped out, the panic hits.

Polyamory is still frowned upon.  Even though she, Maggie, and Alex are committed to each other, their relationship would not be recognized by the Army.  If anything happened to her while overseas, who knows if Maggie and Alex would be given any information, any benefits, if her father wouldn’t find a way to cut them out of everything.

She brings it up, as casually as she can, when they’re all piled on the couch, watching a movie.

Alex is the one who replies, just as casual.  “So marry one of us.”

Keep reading

my fellow americans

what the fuck
happened to us?

we are a nation
not built on
the ten fucking

we were
punk rock
before Converse

we were
an all inclusive
vip room

fucking rode a horse
like Wallace

was the greatest smartass
that ever lived

tried his best to absolve
our sins until the father
of all trump supporters
did him.in

we have a dark history
I won’t argue that
for a nation built on
freedom, equality

we’ve committed genocide
we’ve not equally separated
we’ve privitized prisons

but God Damn
is this us?

Is this really us?

I am a Patriot
in every fucking
sense of the word

but I am not our

do you see
what’s happening here?

We’ve sent children
into muddy chattering
machine gun beaches
to stop the type of
people in command
of our ship

what the fuck happened?

I’ll tell you
We let fear
beat freedom
we let faith
beat reason
we let just-us
beat the scales

we don’t have to take this
this isn’t their land
it’s our land
we, the PEOPLE
Not the fucking suits who
don’t give two shits about

rush the fucking harbor
dump the Miller, Coors,
and Budweiser
bullshit rhetoric they
ran the tab up with

don’t buy into the fear
the hate the division
they blind us with
fanning flames of
old fires we can piss on
put out for the last time

fold the flag around
the eyes of our lady again
wipe her delicate cheeks
it’s not
like she could stop these
assholes from unfolding
her cloth, she couldn’t
drop the scales
she couldn’t stand
to watch

It’s time for us to
reclaim our independence

what the fuck happened to us?
I’m not entirely sure
but I know we can find out

so we don’t repeat it
really be great again

never-trusted  asked:

Hey, if you're still doing those minifics could you possibly do Gramander with 'U - Coming Home'. Also, I love, love, love your writing. It's honestly so beautiful. I hope you have a wonderful day xx

@mamin-the-troll and @thegaypumpingthroughyourveins - THIS IS YOUR FAULT, LADIES. Inspired by this and this.

I’m coming home,
I’m coming home.
Tell the world I’m coming home.

Let the rain wash away
All the pain of yesterday.

I know my Kingdom awaits,
And they’ve forgiven my mistakes.

I’m coming home,
I’m coming home.
Tell the world I’m coming…

Newt holds the picture in the place where Percival used to bury his head, but it is not enough. He sits in the window sill they used to share, his body small and fragile amongst all the cushions and space that once seemed too small for two - now so barren for one. He remembers the sun through the window and the scratch of the overgrown garden against the window panes. The smell of Percival’s soap, fresh from a shower. The way their legs used to tangle. The weight of his lover’s head against his belly and the tickle of his breath against his hand. The feel of carding his hands through Percival’s hair and the rumble of his grateful noises in his sleep. The way holding his books one handed would make his arm ache, but too reluctant to remove his hand from his love to do anything about it.

He sits there now, in the spot they once loved to share together, and watches storm clouds blow the leaves from their garden. Dead and wilting, like everything in his life lately.

He’s cold, but he can’t find it in himself to grab a blanket. Instead, he holds his crinkled picture against his belly and tries to find it in himself to do anything other than sit there and stare at nothing. 

He doesn’t manage it. He falls asleep instead.

And sleep is always worse, he thinks, because Percival is there. In dreams, he’s as alive as they day he left for war. The train comes into the station and people unboard. For a moment, Newt fears he won’t be there. That as in life, he will be dead in dreams, too.

But he isn’t. He never is.

He’s the last person off the train, and it hurts worse for it. Newt runs across the station. He pushes people aside. His voice is a bird’s call, swallowed by the joy of the people around him - welcoming loved ones home. 

Percival is looking for him. His smile slowly fading, until finally, Newt is close enough for him to see. 

And then his face lights up like the dawn they used to get up early for, if only to share it together, and Newt feels another petal fall from his wilting heart. He runs to him anyways. Clutches at the soft wool of his military jacket, ignoring the sharp jab of the medals that took Percival away from him.

His back is whole beneath his palm, his jacket dry and soft and perfect.

It collects his tears until Percival draws him to arm’s length and wipes them away with the calloused pad of his thumb. Newt is hiccuping, he’s crying so hard, because he knows the dream is almost over.

He knows that he is dead.

“Why the tears, sweetheart?” Graves asks, and Newt only sobs louder when he says, “I’m home.”

“Please don’t go,” Newt whimpers and clutches him tighter. Buries his face in the jacket the man died in and wishes he wouldn’t wake.

But he does, he always does.

He wakes alone in the window sill they used to share, and the only weight on his stomach is a picture and grief for the man it features.

Later, when he’s taking the folded flag from the soldiers at Graves’ funeral, he wonders what is heavier - the symbol in his hands or the picture in his pocket. 

BvS rewatch

Olsen isn’t dead, it’s just a CIA agent using his name; one of the men at the base of operations called him “Talon”, meaning that Olsen was a false name. All those people crying that they killed Jimmy Olsen don’t have to worry now.

When Lex is tapping his fingers and saying that the red capes are coming, he says “one if by land, two if by air”

There’s a part of the beginning of the Waynes’ tomb scene where the sound of the Wolrd Engine can be heard

The bat monster coming out of Martha Wayne’s tomb seems to imply that she is what influenced Bruce to be Batman, not his father

The KGBeast was standing behind the senator and his wife at lex’s party

Lex saying that he and Bruce should partner up on something is nice foreshadowing

There’s the sound of Superman’s sonic boom right after he pulls on his tie to go save the little girl

Seeing all the real life people during the interviews and tv segments makes me realize that this world, with all its fictional cities, is more grounded than the mcu and its fake news commentators. Weird, the mcu has Manhattan and other real cities, but the dceu has the real life people

Diana puts down the drink she was offered at the museum by the curator

In fact, every time a dream sequence is about to start, the sound of the World Engine is used to signify that

There was a batarang thrown during the knightmare scene

The cowl is separate from the cape, which was a problem in the animated show and other live action movies

Could the possible lack of oxygen have lead to Clark seeing his dad at the top of the mountain? Maybe.

A full day passed between the bombing and the big fight. The night of the bombing was when Bruce stole the kryptonite and made it a weapon. The next evening/night is when they fight.

Lex tells Clark where he’ll be for him to bring “the head of the Bat”, he even calls it “his [Clark’s] ship

The baseline theme from WW’s theme plays without hitting those iconic WW theme notes when we see the meta videos

The humidity in the air from the rain kept the kryptonite gas from dispersing as quickly as it would

Bruce elbowed Clark in the throat on the roof. Rude, Bruce

There’s a moment where the movie focuses on Clark breathing the kryptonite free air once Bruce jumps him to a lower level; there’s another small moment like that immediately after Clark throws Bruce through a wall; foreshadowing and using the visual medium fully. Anyone that says this movie tells and doesn’t show can stay quiet

Clark got his invulnerability back but not all his strength, as evident by his struggle to throw Bruce across the room

Oh. Bruce’s mask gets damaged because Clark punches it before the gas takes him out a second time

When Bruce fired at those cars outside where Ma Kent was being held, he only took out one truck; that truck took out the rest

When Lex said Clark’s sin is existing, he meant the fact that Clark exists on earth. I always took this line to be about Doomsday for some reason

They took out the "what have you done” line from the TC out during the Doomsday reveal

When the military came for Lex, there’s some chit chat you can hear coming from where lex was. Something was taking to him

There’s a “Kennedy Dead” newspaper shot as the camera pans over the interior of the Daily Planet. Meta.

The General with Major Ferris took the flag they folded for Superman

And that’s it! It’s still a great movie and re-watching it in its entirety has got my mind going for more posts about it.

Without a father

Title: without a father

Anonymous asked: “Sherlock x reader. Sherlock and the reader are married. She works on forensics. They turn up a crime scene only to find that her estranged father is working it too. She hadn’t seen him in over 15 years.” and “Sherlock x reader. Sherlock finds out that his girlfriend lost her father to the war. After spotting a folded Union flag in her flat. She then finds out that John tried to save his life. But she’s not mad at him”

Characters: sherlock, john, greg, your father and you

Pairing: sherlock x reader

Warnings: thoughts of dead father

Word count: 610


“are you excited?” you asked Sherlock. “of course” he said, putting his arm around your shoulders. The two of you finally decided it was time for you to move in to 221b. “here” Sherlock said, handing you a little gift. “what’s this?” you asked him. “just open it” he said, smiling. You carefully removed the bow that held the box together. Inside was a key. “I figured you’d want to get into your home without my help. So I took the liberty to get another key for you” he said, awaiting your reaction. “oh Sherlock, thank you” you laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck, kissing him on the cheek.

“can we hang this above the bed?” you asked Sherlock, showing him the Union flag. “if that’s what you want” Sherlock said. You nodded, turning around and grabbing some nails to hang it. “why, though?” he asked you. The moment he asked you the dreaded question you froze. “uhm, it’s for my father” you said, not looking at Sherlock. Sherlock who immediately got the hint, walked over to bed and held the other side of the flag up so you could secure it. “thank you” you mumbled. “anything for you, darling” he said, kissing you on the temple.

“why didn’t you tell me?” you asked. “I didn’t know how to tell. I failed your father and I failed you. I’m so sorry, Y/N” John said. “you did everything to save him, John. His death is not your fault. You can’t fight a grenade. I just wish you had told me sooner” you said. John nodded, looking at his shoes. “what’s going on?” Sherlock asked, as he entered 221b. “I told her, Sherlock” John said. “I’m so sorry, Y/N” Sherlock said to you. “don’t be, it wasn’t your fault” you said. “can we please talk about something else? Anything?” you said. “I’ve got a case, do you want to come along?” Sherlock asked you. “thank you” you said, grabbing your coat.

“Greg, how very nice to see you” you smiled as you saw the inspector. “that’s not his name” Sherlock said. “please, ignore him” you laughed. “it’s good to see you, Y/N. I was hoping we would get the best of forensics” he smiled brightly. “tell me everything you know” you said, walking over to the body. “inspector Charleston can tell you everything about that” Greg said, gesturing to the tall man standing behind the table. “Charleston?” you questioned, suddenly weak in the knees. You quickly walked over to the man, staring at him. “dad?” you said, trembling. The tall man turned around slowly, facing you. “Y/N?” he questioned. “dad? How…..? How are you still alive?” you said, crying. “oh my sweet Y/N. I’m so sorry for causing you all this grief” he said, hugging you tightly. “how?” you sobbed. “I was rescued by a stranded group of soldiers. It took me almost 10 years to get home and once I got home, I tried everything to reach out to you but to no avail. I’m so so sorry” your father cried, petting your back.

“thank you for being here” you said to your dad. “of course, sweetheart. I wouldn’t want to miss my daughter’s wedding day” he said. “Y/N, come on, it’s your turn” one of your bridesmaids said. You waved your dad goodbye as you followed her. “thank you for being here, sir” Sherlock said, as he walked up to your father, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t want to miss it. Just promise me one thing, son” your father said. “anything sir” Sherlock replied. “promise me you’ll be good to her” your father said. “any day, sir” Sherlock answered.



Originally posted by roadswewalk

I assigned my rhetoric students to write short stories in 10 words or fewer for our lesson on the economy of language (i.e. how to say a lot in as few words as possible). Some of my favorites: 

  • When I look in his eyes, I see your face. 
  • Had second guesses, but love is what made me leave.

  • I didn’t cry until they handed me the folded flag. 

  • You were truly hell but I still enjoyed the fire. 

  • I love you for who you aren’t.

  • “I love you too,” he lied. 

  • Her first and last view: the barrel of a gun. 

  • A found friendship, lost to a broken promise. 

  • One minute jogging, the next in a van.

  • Two men enter a room. One leaves, one never leaves.


anonymous asked:

Imagine going to Bucky for ideas on how to surprise Steve. Bucky dresses you up in a literal American Flag and folds it so it looks like how you put a towel on your body after a shower. Steve comes home to you standing in the middle of the living room with the flag on, your hands triple tied behind your back with red white and blue respectivly. Steve takes the flag off revealing nothing underneath and bends you over the couch saying "I need to teach you a lesson on disrespecting the flag." (~E}

this is what I’m here for yes yes yes 

Sin for Steve™

Gone (Steve x Reader)

Request: Can I have a story where the reader and Steve have a child named James, like after Bucky?

| Previously frazzled-fan | Feedback is very much appreciated |

The day is dark and dreary, with grey clouds drifting through the sky of New York. The air’s humid, and the whole city smells like an oncoming downpour of rain. A strange and out of place silence looms over everything, allowing for a mournful moment of silence. 

A large and somber crowd of people gather across a wide spread grassy field. Graves of every shape and size lay in rows upon rows of the field. The crowd gathers together, creating one large dark group. With everyone here for the same purpose, the dreaded event begins.

The funeral begins.

James Rogers stands at the very front of the crowd, right in the middle of both the still divided Avengers. On one side was his uncle Bucky, who he hadn’t known very long. He had only met him once before today, but James already felt a connection to him. He was after all named after him, and he also reminded him of his father. On the other side of James was his uncle Tony. He grew up helping his uncle in the labs, being taught the ins and outs of mechanical engineering. He loved all the time he spent with his uncle, but now he wishes he didn’t have to be anywhere near him. 

According to Bucky, his uncle Tony killed both of his parents.

James keeps his head forward, trying his absolute best to keep a stoic face, but it doesn’t work. His upper lip quivers, and his eyes constantly blink, desperately attempting to keep his tears at bay. Tony looks down to the broken boy, feeling a wave of guilt wash over him. He never meant for everything to reach the point that it had. He never meant to make one special, talented, loved, little boy into an orphan. He places a hand delicately on James’ shoulder, only for him to pull away from his touch in an aggressive matter.

James Looks down into the two large graves in front of him, feeling his heart beat faster with every second that passes. The thought of his parents now staying in those dark pits forever breaks his heart. He can barley even bare the thought. His eyes trail away from the holes, off to to the side where two large caskets rests. Both caskets have an American flag draped fully across them. James wipes viscously at his eyes as they stay trained on the two caskets; as they stay trained on his mom and dad.

He desperately wants to run away from here, only to go through the front doors of his house to find you and Steve waiting for him. He wants to be able to go on your weekly family Saturday morning walks in Central Park, feeding ducks, chasing squirrels, and having you and Steve holding his hands as you walked. He wants to be able to train with you and Steve so that one day he too could’ve been apart of the Avengers. He wants to be able to watch movies with the two of you and cringing at the way you would kiss each other. He wants to come home from school with an A+ on a test, having both you and Steve wrap him in your arms. He wants you to walk into his bedroom before you go on a mission, giving him a kiss and telling him you love him, thinking he was asleep when he wasn’t. He wants Steve to tell him stories of his childhood from the past. 

He wants his parents to be alive, but that was ripped away from him by a war between friends and family.

The caskets were slowly lower into the ground and the whole cemetery suddenly fills with a painful silence. Small sobs and raspy breaths are the only sounds to be heard. Each noise made James’ head and heart pound within his body, not wanting to believe what’s happening in front of his own eyes.

His parents are gone. 


Gone forever. 

Two weeks ago is when the Civil War had started, leaving him safely in the care of Laura Barton. Now they were returning to him as corpses. Lifeless corpses, leaving him forever. 

“They didn’t deserve this. They were good people standing for what they believed in.” Is what Wanda had told him when everyone broke the news to him. 

But now he stands at a funeral where not one single person speaks of the good they stood for. Not one person talks about what they died for. No one speaks at all. It’s just silence. James feels almost betrayed that not one person can stand up and say how his parents died for something, and how they didn’t die in vain. It’s all he needs to hear. 

He needs to know that it was worth it.

After the ceremony was over, James stays behind, watching as two men toss dirt into his parent’s graves, covering them for eternity. He stands there, even after they finished, not being able to move. 

Bucky and Tony both stay with the boy as he mourns, both doing so too. They don’t to rush him, they want to give him all the time in the world to handle this how he needs to. Both Tony and Bucky push away they’re problems with each other for the sake of this young boy, knowing that he’s feeling the worst pain of all. 

One day James will be able to let go, but it will take a long time for that time to come. Until that day comes, they only thought that will run through his head is that his parents are gone.

His parents are gone forever.

seeing my grandma hold my grandpa and say “goodbye my love.” will resonate within me forever. today at the funeral they did military honors because my grandpa was a veteran and it was too beautiful. the way that they folded the flag and spoke with the utmost respect just got me. one of the young men started tearing up as he gave my grandma the flag and when they did the gun salute, everybody started choking up. it was so beautiful and heartbreaking. i will never forget it.


″Blood Gulch” square for Red Team Bingo
Read on Ao3

Set after the events of Season 1. The pink guy is in Blue Base. Church always liked that guy.

Ships: Churchnut, Chex

Church had been planning on his usual morning routine. Take a mug of coffee out of the base and pretend coffee had any effect on him whatsoever. Maybe look at the view the His and Her set of graves had of the base. Stare into the sun and contemplate why he was stuck in fucking purgatory with a bunch of assholes instead of being in heaven with Tex.

Well, maybe she was in hell. She was kind of a bitch.

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