Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Mardi Gras shenanigans. It’s porn, plot is optional.

Word Count:1,976

Warnings: Language, Smoking, Dirty Talk, Oral (MR)

A/N: Are you ready for the longest blowjob in history… (I don’t own the gif)

“Did it hurt?” Sam approached you, a sly smirk on his lips. When you didn’t play along and simply shot him an unimpressed look, he snickered. “…when you fell from Heaven.”

Yeah, you were dressed as an angel.

Not your idea, though. As it turned out, Wanda was a big fan of Mardi Gras and begged until you all agreed to throw a costume party. Tuesday morning, she shoved a white dress into your arms and said you were an angel. You didn’t want to upset her, so you just rolled with it.

Sam laughed at his own joke before the smell of pancakes drew his attention away from you. You looked around the room and sighed, sipping your second glass of… whatever it was Natasha had given you. It was good, a bit fruity and bitter enough to match your mood.

Wanda, who was dressed as Violet from the Incredibles, was running around the living room, filling plates with pancakes. Loud music blasted through the speakers.

“Looking for someone?”

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i love the idea of percy having a “she’s all that” moment sometime after they release him from the prison cell. they steal back his valuables and clothes along with his weapons from the jail when they spring him, but he had been practically destitute for three years. his clothes were that of working man: handspun wool, grey, and loose-fitting, especially since they didn’t serve him feasts in jail. 

when he manages to prove himself, earn a little gold (that he didn’t immediately hand over to vex’ahlia), he splurges on himself. well, more accurately, the group does. grog could care less, but the rest of them push for percy to clean up a bit; his haggard, slightly deranged prisoner look quickly attracts attention, which is inconvenient if they aren’t just passing through.

so he buys some new clothes, gets a nice coat, washes and cuts his hair, shaves his face – and. wow.


Lady Stoneheart lowered her hood and unwound the grey wool scarf from her face. Her hair was dry and brittle, white as bone. Her brow was mottled green and grey, spotted with the brown blooms of decay. The flesh of her face clung in ragged strips from her eyes down to her jaw. Some of the rips were crusted with dried blood, but others gaped open to reveal the skull beneath. Her face, Brienne thought. Her face was so strong and handsome, her skin so smooth and soft. “Lady Catelyn?” Tears filled her eyes. “They said… they said that you were dead.”    

The Iterations of Arya Stark

Within A Song of Ice and Fire, there are a number of Arya proxies you can find, both by look and by personality. I think it’s interesting to study them side by side to see what the characters have to say about her as a person, as well as the authorial intent, parallels, and possible foreshadowing. There was Lyanna, a wild beauty by most standards; Ygritte, the fiery first love; Meera, the ever-protective sister and huntress; Margaery, the cunning pretender; Jeyne, Lady of Winterfell; Leaf, a small vessel of old magic; Willow, a fierce little girl who acts as a queen; and finally Alys, the grey northern girl with a frosty winter crown. 


“Lyanna might have carried a sword, if my lord father had allowed it. You remind me of her sometimes. You even look like her.” (Arya, A Game of Thrones)


Something about her made him think of Arya, though they looked nothing at all alike. “Will you yield?” he asked, giving the dirk a half turn. And if she doesn’t? (Jon, A Clash of Kings)


Jojen was so solemn that Old Nan called him “little grandfather,” but Meera reminded Bran of his sister Arya. She wasn’t scared to get dirty, and she could run and fight and throw as good as a boy. (Bran, A Clash of Kings)


A few days past, he had taken Ned aside to show him an exquisite rose gold locklet. Inside was a miniature painted in the vivid Myrish style, of a lovely young girl with doe’s eyes and a cascade of soft brown hair. [..] The maid was Loras Tyrell’s sister Margaery, he’d confessed, but there were those who said she looked like Lyanna. (Eddard, A Game of Thrones)


The girl was slim, and taller than he remembered, but that was only to be expected. Girls grow fast at that age. Her dress was grey wool bordered with white satin; over it she wore an ermine cloak clasped with a silver wolf’s head. Dark brown hair fell halfway down her back. And her eyes…

That is not Lord Eddard’s daughter. (Reek, A Dance with Dragons)


A cloud of ravens was pouring from the cave, and he saw a little girl with a torch in hand, darting this way and that. For a moment Bran thought it was his sister Arya…madly, for he knew his sister was a thousand leagues away, or dead. And yet there she was, whirling, a scrawny thing, ragged, wild, her hair atangle. Tears filled Hodor’s eyes and froze there. (Bran, A Dance with Dragons)


Gendry was the closest thing to a man grown, but it was Willow shouting all the orders, as if she were a queen in her castle and the other children were no more than servants.

If she were highborn, command would come naturally to her, and deference to them. Brienne wondered whether Willow might be more than she appeared. […] Brown hair, brown eyes, skinny….could it be? Arya Stark’s hair was brown, she recalled, but Brienne was not sure of the color of her eyes. (Brienne, A Feast for Crows)


The girl smiled in a way that reminded Jon so much of his little sister that it almost broke his heart. […] The snowflakes were melting on her cheeks, but her hair was wrapped in a swirl of lace that Satin had found somewhere, and the snow had begun to collect there, giving her a frosty crown. (Jon, A Dance with Dragons)

Lostcauses Fic: Train

This stupid stupid fluff is for @zedsdead1001, @erwinsalive and all the other dear Eruris who got shitty anons this week.  (Seriously, what is wrong with some people?) Hope this makes you smile. 

Levi hates trains.  To be fair, Levi hates all forms of public transport, but he reserves a particular loathing for trains.  They’re dirty, noisy, smelly and worse, filled with people.  People who, heaven forbid, might attempt to speak to Levi, engage him in conversation. Levi’s worst nightmare is being stuck on a train with some friendly fuck who wants to pass the time making small talk. Admittedly it’s not a problem he has to deal with too often, his general fuck off demeanour deters all but the most aggressively friendly and hopelessly inebriated.  But that doesn’t stop Levi from hating trains.

Unfortunately the pittance Levi earns doesn’t afford him the luxury of owning a car and sometimes, when the distance is too great or the weather too foul, necessity dictates that he must smother his loathing of strangers and take the train.  Today is one of those days. And fuck has it been one of those days. It’s been long and trying and Levi has had to deal with a whole succession of idiots who seemed determined to be as obtuse and obstructive as possible. All he wants to do is get home so he can close the door of his flat and shut out the rest of humanity. 

The train is busy when Levi boards, crammed with stressed and dishevelled commuters. Levi scowls and wrinkling his nose in distaste. Miraculously he manages to find an empty double row.  He collapses into the seat by the window, saying a silent prayer of thanks to any deity that happens to be listening, dumps his bag on the seat beside him and hitches his most hostile glare into place.   Several passengers glance at the empty seat beside Levi as they board the train, but one scowl is enough to send them scuttling further down the carriage.   

It’s only once all the passengers are seated and the train pulls out of the station that Levi exhales a silent sigh of relief and his expression softens into his usual bad tempered scowl.   

His relief is short lived.  They’re barely ten minutes out of the station when a shadow falls across the carriage by Levi’s seat.

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FIC: Lost In Your Arms (Drarry, 1/10, NC-17)

Hello, dear friends! I’m currently sitting in a tiny Paris flat where I’m on holiday with @noeeon (who is the best wife ever.) I’ve already seen the Eiffel Tower, walked through Rue Cler and Boulevard Saint Germain, and run across Draco Malfoy on a bicycle, wearing a grey wool coat that looked remarkably like an Auror uniform. Guess which was the highlight so far of my trip, lol.

I’ve managed to get started on the follow-up to my Kinkfest fic, which I’m having an absolute blast writing. I’m posting it as a WIP, one chapter a week on Thursdays (except for next week when travel plans will require me posting on Friday.) Feel free to read along, or when it’s finished in 10 weeks. (I have 10 tightly plotted chapters, thanks to @noeeon, yay!)

Title: Lost In Your Arms
Chapter: 1 out of 10
Rating: Very. Very. VERY NC-17. You’ve been warned.
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Word Count This Chapter: ~19,400

Content/Enticements: Aurors, voyeurism, dirty talk, light dom/dub, switching, public sex, shower sex, power imbalance, blow jobs, facials, Slytherins being Slytherins, fingering, bondage, oral fixation, drarry, others to be added as the story goes on :)

Summary: Three months after their brief encounter, Draco has almost forgotten about Potter–or so he tells himself. Then a Dark wizard shows up on the Auror radar and all hell breaks loose. Draco will have to choose between everything he holds dear–everything he’s worked so hard for–and a few stolen moments of passion with a certain green-eyed Inspector, once his sworn enemy and now something rather different entirely. He’ll make the right choice, won’t he?

Who is he kidding? He’ll ruin everything, as per usual. Bad choices and the name Malfoy go hand in hand.

Author Notes: This fic starts after Can’t Get You Out of My Head. While it’s not crucial for you to have read that one first, it’ll probably make a bit more sense if you have. :) Title once again courtesy of Ms. Kylie Minogue.

This is a long fic that will be posted weekly on Thursdays. There are 10 chapters. However, the second installment will go up on a Friday since I’m on holiday and don’t have regular access to wifi. I’ll get back on my proper schedule with chapter three.

Also, please note that this fic is set eight years after the Second Wizarding War (in 2006), so any Muggle technology referenced herein is going to be of that era, and most definitely not up to our current standards. Hint: no iPhones. :)

Huge thanks to my betas sassy_cissa and @noeeon for all their brilliance. They’re the best. <3



asoiaf minor characters meme: (1/10) characters ➝ JEYNE POOLE

The girl was slim, and taller than he remembered, but that was only to be expected. Girls grow fast at that age. Her dress was grey wool bordered with white satin; over it she wore an ermine cloak clasped with a silver wolf’s head. Dark brown hair fell halfway down her back. And her eyes … That is not Lord Eddard’s daughter. Arya had her father’s eyes, the grey eyes of the Starks. A girl her age might let her hair grow long, add inches to her height, see her chest fill out, but she could not change the color of her eyes. That’s Sansa’s little friend, the steward’s girl. Jeyne, that was her name. Jeyne Poole.

The Chronicles of a Crown Beanie

Summary: The beanie is a culmination and a physical manifestation of his life up until now. His achievements. His mistakes. His hardships. His experiences. (A study into the life of Jughead Jones’ beanie.)

He’s eight when the crown beanie comes into his possession.

His mom knits it for him, behind closed doors so her oldest child doesn’t see her making it. He’s oblivious when she buys grey wool in front of him.

She does it because she’s uncertain of her future. Her recent diagnosis made sure of that- and if she passes, then this will be something for him to remember her buy.

Money in the bank disappears as her husband makes every effort to save her from her cervical cancer, and she can foresee the tough times ahead. The very boy in question goes to juvie for accidentally setting a fire in school. But knitting this grey hat for her son is one pleasure she escapes to everyday after she tucks Jughead and Jellybean in.

She gives it to him on his birthday- they’re at the Drive-In, their yearly tradition, and after Jughead and Jellybean have climbed out of the trunk, so that they don’t have to pay for tickets they can’t afford, she turns to him.

“Happy birthday, Jug,” She says, pale skin gently pressing the gift wrapped garment into his hands. Her cancer has only just gone into remission, and it looks like it will stay that way, but her hands are still pale, and Jughead ignores this as he puts the crown beanie on for the first time.

He’s ten. The beanie has been his constant companion, his security blanket, which has been with him through thick and thin.

He’s in the bedroom they share as Jughead braids Jellybean’s hair, trying not to acknowledge the shouting that’s shaking the foundation of the rickety house, from the other side of the door. His parents are fighting again, over monetary issues, but Jughead and his sister are perfectly fine with pretending that everything’s okay, as she giggles when he tickles the back of her neck, once he’s done with her hair.

Their father slams his fist into a wall, startling the two, and they embrace each other, finally ceasing the facade they’ve created. Jellybean, only five, starts sniffling, and Jughead pulls her closer. He’s trying to play his part of older brother as well as he can, and making sure that Jellybean is okay- that’s his greatest responsibility at the moment. So, as a means of comfort, he gives his beanie to his sister, with a whisper of, “You’ll feel better.”

Later, he ventures out to appease a hungry sister, as well as to check on his parents, and ends up breaking his left ring and middle finger when his dad accidentally slams a door on his hand. When his mom is wrapping his fingers up, and he’s listening to his dad apologize profusely Jellybean gives the beanie back.

“You’ll feel better,” She returns.

He’s ten and a half, and making his way to music class with Archie and Betty by his side. His ever-present beanie rests on his head, and he tucks a short lock of wavy hair into it.

“Beanie-baby!” Shouts Jason Blossom from across the hall, and everyone sniggers, excluding Archie and Betty. It’s a terrible insult, really, Jughead thinks, but his cheeks still turn red from embarrassment.

His friends stand up for him, with Betty threatening to punch Jason’s butt, and the matter is soon forgotten by everyone, except Jughead.

They next day he stands in front of his mirror, having an inner debate on why he should have some integrity and wear his beanie, because who cares what Jason Blossom thinks? But thoughts of everyone laughing at him invade his logical side, and he removes it, shoving in his drawer. His mom is surprised, but doesn’t say anything as she walks him to school, but Betty Cooper is insistent on finding out why. “Is it because of yesterday?” She asks, standing beside her redheaded crush, and she’s absolutely right. But, Jughead shakes his head and tells her that he outgrew it.

The whole day he’s uncomfortable, even more so when Jason Blossom smirks at him across the hallway, and the absence of his security blanket is something he doesn’t enjoy. He constantly runs his hand through his hair as an attempt to get rid of his uneasiness, and finally decides that Jason Blossom should not affect him in any way.

The next day, the hat comes back on.


He’s thirteen years old when he first loses it. Not his sanity, but his beloved beanie.

It’s a crisp winter morning when he wakes up, shivering, head pounding, with a tightness in his chest and a hacking cough. He can’t muster up the energy to get out of bed, and when his mom comes to check on him, she knows something is wrong. After Googling his symptoms, his parents decide to take him to the hospital. Jughead manages to tug the grey woolen garment over his head before he’s carried out in his pyjamas, into the biting cold and then his Dad’s pickup, whisked away to the nearest ER. But it falls off, somewhere along the way, and Jughead’s too sick to notice it before it’s too late.

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What Harry Hart wore in the movie “Kingsman”

1. Navy pin stripe double breasted peaked lapel suit: When Harry met little Eggsy 

2. Grey pin stripe double breasted peaked lapel suit: When Harry met grown up Eggsy. 

3. Grey birdseye wool double breasted peaked lapel suit: When Harry met prof. Arnold

4. Pajama w/Gown: Right after Harry was recovered from poisonous explosion.

5. Navy velvet smoking jacket w/tartan plaid trouser: When Harry visited Valentine.

6. Grey glen plaid double breasted peaked lapel suit: Breakfast w/Arthur right after the dinner w/Valentine

7. (2-1A): When Eggsy was hypnotized.

8. (2-1, same as 2 but different tie): When Eggsy and Roxy made final two.

9. (2-1B): In Harry’s room, when they were talking about kingsman and being a gentleman.

10. (7): When Harry and Eggsy went to kingsman shop for having Eggsy’s suit.

11. (8): When Eggsy was taken to Harry’s house by Arthur’s black cab.

12. (1, exactly same suit) : at the church

a) Eggsy’s first suit is same as harry’s #1 suit.
b) Eggsy’s 2nd suit at the pub is same as harry’s #2 suit.

Time Flows Like Stars: Chapter 3

After falling into a long and ageless coma, you’re awaken to see  a young man who claims to be the young, 7 year old neighbour boy you used to babysit.

Genre: Drama, angst, Fluff  

Word count: 1225

Ch.1 I Ch.2

A/N: Holidays are up and time to complete the request now!

“Y/N this is my daughter…”

You felt like your heart has been sunken deep within you. Jungkook’s fists were clenched tightly till his knuckles went white. “You bastard…” 

You heard Jungkook from behind and you turned to see the scariest glare you have seen on any guy.

 “She’s here in a coma for more than ten years and you didn’t even visit her! You just went and move on like you didn’t even give a shit about her!” Jungkook yelled, gaining peoples attention towards you. 

Jungkook started stepping forward and you quickly hold onto his arm to stop him. “Jungkook please, it’s not worth it.” 

You looked at him with a worried gaze but his eyes were still death glaring at him. “Let go Noona…” He shrugged you off easily and you just stood back helplessly.

Jungkook walked over to Eunwoo slowly and slowly leaned in to whisper. “If your daughter wasn’t here I wouldn’t hesitate to punch the shit out of you.” Eunwoo’s eyes widened at the young boy’s words and gulped.

Jungkook leaned away and stomped off, leaving you in an awkward situation. Eunwoo looked down, not facing you as you could here him saying in a small voice.

 “I’m sorry if I wasn’t there for you…” It felt like someone stabbed you in the chest, but what do you expect? For him to wait for you for 12 damn years? You didn’t bother replying to him and just turned and grabbed your IV and slowly went back to your room.


You sat on you bed, your knees tucked close to your body as you propped you chin on top you knee

You just didn’t want to talk to anyone and you just wanted to get out of this hospital and go home. You heard a knock on the door and you just groaned. “Can you please leave me alone…?”

 You asked as politely as possible. “Noona…?” You smiled softly and the soft voice on the other side. You heard the door slowly opening to see Jungkook slowly stepping inside with his head down. 

You couldn’t figure out how the guy from few hours ago, who was death glaring at your now ex-boyfriend, was the same guy now standing in the same spot with an innocent face. “I…brought Bulgogi…your favorite…”  he said quietly.

“You still remember wow…” You said with a bright smile and patted the empty spot next to you bed. Jungkook walked over to you bed and reached in for the food in the plastic bag and took out a hot plastic container, opening it to reveal steaming rice with Bulgogi on the side.

 You took your chopsticks and grabbed some meat, leaning it towards Jungkook who looked at you with a confused expression. “I’m feeding you pabo, I’m not hungry so its fine.” You insisted, you were only slightly hungry but Jungkook always comes first for you.

Jungkook pushed you chopsticks away from his face with his and grabbed some food and shoved it towards you. “You are the one that needs to eat Noona.” He said with a smirk and raised an eyebrow, suddenly turning cocky. 

You just did what he said and chewed the meat slowly, melting in your mouth. You suddenly went to memory lane when you remembered you would always go out for Bulgogi with Eunwoo after school.

 Jungkook saw how your eyes were looking at the white sheets with a sad expression. You were surprised when you felt his chopsticks tapping you chin as you looked at him with a surprised expression. 

“Aish…you always make that expression when you think about sad things.” He said while his face was stuffed with food. 

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “And how do you know I was sad?” You crossed your arms and raised your brow at him. “You said so yourself when I was 7.”

The young boy sat on your lap as you started a new painting as you remembered you were in the same position as this young boy when you were younger…when your mother was the one you were watching painting. 

“Noona?” You snapped out of your thoughts and looked at his large eyes. “Are you sad?” He said innocently. “Yeah…I am…” You said as you stared at the painting. You felt his small head resting on you and you looked down at him. “Don’t be sad Noona…it makes me sad…”

“Just ignore him Noona, he’s not worth your time.” He said finishing the last bit of meat and placing it in the bin and walking back to you.

 “You visited me for 12 years Jungkook…I’m just a burden…I could understand why Eunwoo left…he had his things to focus on and you should be focusing on your music that you loved so much.” 

You heard Jungkook groaned in frustration and leaned incredibly close to you. “Eunwoo doesn’t even have patience…” Jungkook said in a low voice. 

“You were never a burden. You’re important to me Noona and I want you to rely on me now…” His eyes were sincere; you could tell he was telling the truth.

“Jungkook…” His large were staring right at you and if you weren’t sitting down you would’ve gone weak on the knees. “Yeah…?” You slowly raised your hand and softly let your fingers brush his cheek. 

“You’re all red…” You said which left him speechless and looking down, his cheeks getting redder by the second. He looked up and stared at you with his hands slowly taking yours. “Yours too…” 

You looked away from him, thinking of some excuse. “It’s just the side effect of the medicine.” You heard Jungkook letting you a light chuckle. “Sure…” 

You heard a phone ring and you looked at Jungkook, who let go of your hand to reach into his pocket to answer his phone. 

“Hyung? Ah…yeah, I’ll be there in 20…” He hung up the phone and looked at you with a smile. “My hyungs said I have to go back to the dorms…” “Go then…” 

You said and he got up looking at you for a few seconds. Jungkook didn’t want to leave you alone but you just shooed him away, telling him multiple times that you would be fine.

 Jungkook was about to leave through the door till he stopped and looked at you. “Oh I almost forgot! The doctor said that you’re fine to go home tomorrow.” You smiled at him and thanked him for telling you and left.

The next day, Jungkook brought some change of clothes for you and he left you to change into them until you both exit the hospital and approached a young man. He was wearing a grey wool coat and had round glasses.

He was tall and his shoulders were broad. “Hey you must Jungkook’s friend, I’m Jin” he reached out a hand and you gladly took it. “I’m Y/N” 

His hand was suddenly still and looked at you with a confuse expression. 

“Y/N? Why is that name familiar…?” Jin looked up at Jungkook and he was just looking anywhere but his gaze. 

“Um…I don’t know…” Jungkook said as he rubbed the back of his head. “Ah! The Y/N!”

 Jin yelled and looked at you with an excited gaze. “I’m sorry…I don’t understand?” You said.

 “Jungkook never stops talking about. He said so himself, He’s madly in love with you.”         

glazelazer  asked:

can i get a aesthetic for cotton, dark streets, and moths? thank you!

I tried to go for a darker theme, but the two bottom corners turned out kind of iffy. If you’d like me to redo it, don’t hesitate to ask!