he has a bruised right eye


anonymous asked:

There's some new shrunkyclucks fics I can't find on your tumblr and this trope is my fav I live for it it is the air in my lungs so people need to know about these: series/652838 works/9215399 works/10257521 works/10209104 works/9837182 works/9230270 works/9206615 works/9206615


Love and Great Buildings series by  concavepatterns

This Side by brideofquiet

Bucky Barnes restores antiques for a living. Steve Rogers saves the world. Bucky has no reason to believe their paths will ever cross, right up until they do.

Or: the Notting Hill AU.

Hypothetically by emphasisonem

“Steve Rogers,” Bucky states, nodding curtly as he takes in the sight of the man before him. There’s dried blood below his nose that contrasts sharply with his smooth, fair skin. His bottom lip is split and there’s some bruising below his left eye. And yet, Bucky thinks as he moves closer, even bloodied and bruised and sitting under fluorescent lights, the guy looks like a fucking demigod.

Some people have all the luck.

In which it takes a certain NYPD detective a little longer than it should to recognize a national icon.

I Just Work Here by youngavengerfeels

Out in the middle of the desert, where it’s hot as hell and there is absolutely no reason for anyone to be, there is a little gas station that acts as Bucky’s own personal hell. At least the Captain America look a like that comes in every so often makes things a little more tolerable.

What’s a Guy Gotta Do To Get The Wifi Password Up in Here? by youngavengerfeels

Bucky is a stressed out intern at the White House which would be super cool expect for the fact its day one he’s already a ball of anxiety. But at last he got to meet Captain America. That was cool.

the lions by Spacedog

It’s not that life isn’t good. The future—the present, as it stands—is great. The food is excellent. Messaging is instant. Movies are in 3D. Steve is only one medical miracle of many. Even the grime of New York City is nicer than the near-constant stink of the thirties. No, it’s not that the world is any worse.

Steve was just lonely as hell.

or, the one where steve is still captain america, bucky is a hot librarian, and they fall in love, anyway.

Kiss me once and I’ll keep you forever by Kajmere

“It’s not a gala event, Steve,” Sam warns, “it’s a little more— interactive than mingling with celebrities and collecting money.”

“Just tell me what you need me to do, and I’ll do it.”


“Tsk, tsk.” 

Hearing the tongue clicking, of course, the first reaction Tungsten did was to turn around to look at the figure creating the noise.

Boy, he wished he didn’t.


You didn’t remember it th̵̞̲̯̬i͏̰̦̤s͉ ͈̗w̺̣̱͟4̼̗̹̲͖̼y̬̯̫̮͖̤̯.̞̟̗͍̀ ͔͉̞

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With ‘Chivalry’ now already on Chapter 5, I thought I’d do a reference for Chiv’s face so you can see what he looks like in-game! In the canon of the story, the scarring on his face is more pronounced; in-game he has the eyebrow, lip and chin scars but in the story these are slightly more intense and also clip his cheek a little. Chiv’s hair is also a little longer on top in the story, and a bit messier. Mini fact file under the cut!

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Forward Momentum Drabble:  Observation

I’m trying so hard to get the next chapter, just! >.< Ah and I love this little thing. It’s Thor and Tony talking about the “right thing” all the others know about but are letting play out.


Two weeks ago:

Thor is looking wrecked; the poor guy is shirtless, pajama pants with little Cap shields all over them—one pant leg caught around his knee and the other twisted, hair one hell of a mess with no braid, bruises all over his shoulders (which Tony has no explanation for whatsoever because no Missions this week and just c’mon, God), dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep, and he’s biting into a sandwich like he hasn’t eaten in days.

“Whoa. Greased Lightning. What the hell happened to you?” Tony’s already moving around the island of the communal floor, wondering if the guy got pummeled by someone other-worldly or Midgard-approved.

Thor, mouth stuffed full, just turns his head slowly in Tony’s direction, eyes still hazy, and manages a huge grin while still chewing.

Oh. Oh.

“Good for you, Big Guy,” he gives an easy punch to the the massive bicep and moves around him to the fridge, pulling out things for a sandwich since mere mortals and all. “I take it you got to see Jane for a few days?”

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drabble: steve/natasha

Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~1,100
Prompts: Civil War clip + this post

For: @bloodredmoon87

Read on: [ ffnet ] [ ao3 ]

Seeing them makes his heart tighten in his chest. He hates a lot of things that came of this, all of the casualties, all of the fighting, all of the arguing. He hates it.

But those bruises on her neck? He hates them more than anything right now.

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Death Isn’t So Bad Part 5

Wade Wilson x Reader

Warnings: Language (like always apparently)

Words: 2,274

A/N: Why is Wade Wilson so hard for me to write?!? *distant sobbing* So, this is the final part. I’ll probably write a Wolverine or Daredevil one next, I don’t know. I’m just making it up as a go along. And I even got this one up just in time for the Deadpool trailer.

“Oh, ha-ha.” You replied, escorting Tony to your couch so he could get off his feet.

“How are you holding up?” Fury asked.

“Just peachy.” Stark muttered, wincing as he adjusted himself on the couch better.

“You look like shit.” He stated.

“Next time I’ll be sure to tell them to avoid the face.” Stark joked.

“What about you, Steve?” You asked, examining the bruise swelling around his right eye and the cut on his cheek.

“I’ll live,” he murmured, “fast healing, remember? It’s too bad; I could really use a drink about now.” You smirked.

“Oh, no.” Fury groaned.

“What, we’ve got time?” You pointed to Tony. “And he’s in no condition to brew up some master plan to stop the suit.”

“Fine.” You smiled widely at him.

“What are you guys going on about?” Wade asked, dragging in something through the door.

“When did you leave?” You questioned.

“Well that’s a blow to self-confidence.” Deadpool stated. “Nobody even realized I left. Can you believe this shit Bill?”

“Who’s Bill?” You asked at the same time Steve asked, “Where did you go?”

“This is Bill!” Wade lifted the arm of the limp man lying on your kitchen floor. “Say hi!” He said as he waved the arm in the air.

“Wade, what did I tell you about leaving dead bodies in my house?” You groaned.

“This is an often occurrence?” Steve looked to you questioningly.

“This one wasn’t my fault!” Fury looked to you pointedly.

“Alright, I’ll handle him. You can go set Stark up in my room, I slept last night.” You pulled a flask from your fridge. “And this is for you, Steve.” He caught it, looking at the bottle with a raised brow.

“I’m afraid it won’t do much.” He replied. You shook your head.

“That’s kingsbrew, from Elrain,” You explained, “human alcohol doesn’t affect my system either but I promise you, that will.”

“Oh, I want some!” Deadpool dropped the arm he was holding on to and rushed up to Steve, attempting to take the flask.

“Relax, Wade,” you pulled out another flask, “I’ve got more.” Wade abandoned his attempts at grabbing Steve’s flask and walked up to you. “Oh, and Steve, there’s a room straight down that hall.” You pointed down the walkway Fury and Stark had disappeared into only a few moments ago. “You can go in there to wash up and get some rest. We probably won’t make much progress until the morning.” Steve nodded.

“Thanks.” He called back as he made his way towards the room. One look in the direction of the limp figure lying on the ground had you taking a swig of kingsbrew.

“I thought that was for me!” Wade complained, grabbing the flask from you.

“If I’m taking care of this mess, I might as well get a drink of alcohol in.” You stated dryly. Wade shrugged, chugging down the contents of the flask. With a sigh and a flick of your wrist, you sent the man into the Aether. “I’d slow down on that.” You warned Wade. He smiled at you sheepishly, setting the empty flask on the counter.

“Whoops.” He replied. You watched him for a moment before speaking again.

“Are you tired?” You asked.

“Nah, Bill woke me up.” You chuckled to yourself.

“I don’t even want to know who he was.” You stated, walking back to relax on your couch.

“An asshole.” Wade responded. “I mean who doesn’t like Mexican food?” He plopped down next to you.

“Did you kill that man just because he didn’t like Mexican food?” You raised a brow.

“He didn’t laugh at my joke.” He pointed out. You giggled.

“Nobody laughs at your jokes.”

“You do.” He smirked with a wink. You look to him with a flirty smile, draping your back over his legs.

“What else is a princess to do?” You asked innocently.

“You’re a princess?” You stuck your tongue out at him. “Where’s the dress? And the tiara, for that matter? You’re doing it wrong! You need to put on pink tutus and diamond crowns.” Rolling your eyes at him, you lifted your hand hesitantly. “What are you doing?”

“Can I-,” you motioned to his mask. He nodded slowly. With cautious tugs, you inched the mask off of his face revealing the marred skin below. For once, he was quiet. You’d seen the scars before, when he was eating he’d lift the mask some and SHIELD had a photo of him without it, but it was different looking at it with your own eyes. You placed a hand softly on one of his cheeks and smiled up to him. He returned your smile. “You should get some sleep, Wade. It’s going to be a long day tomorrow.”

“What about the party we’re having? I still haven’t gotten to braid anyone’s hair.” You laughed.

“I’ll pin Steve down tomorrow so you can braid his hair but tonight you should sleep.”

“What are you going to do when I do sleep?”

“I’m just going to meditate.” You shrugged. He looked at you skeptically.

“You sure?” He questioned. “I’m not going to wake up with a dick drawn on my forehead or something, right?” Laughing, you replied.

“Of course not,” you paused, “it’ll be two dicks.” Wade smirked down at you.

“Off to bed, then.” He stated, grabbing his mask from your hands and moving your legs off his lap. “I’ll feel much safer knowing I have two dicks watching out for me on my forehead.”

“Wade,” you called softly, looking up at him before he left. You stood slowly, pressing your lips lightly against his rough skin. “Goodnight.” You whispered in his ear, disappearing before he even had time to respond. You sat on your building’s roof, watching the traffic below. You concentrated on the soft breeze and closed your eyes; the soft sounds of the city lulling you into your own mind.

“So, what’s the best course of action?” You asked Fury and Stark lowly, not wishing to disturb the others resting within the house.

“I can build a small device that will suck all of the energy out of the machine, we just need somewhere for it to go.” Tony explained.

“How in the hell are we going to find a place for all of that energy to go?” Fury asked, not liking this plan in the slightest.

“Easy,” you replied, “I can send the energy to the Aether.”

“Are you sure you can even build this device?” Fury demanded.

“I’m a genius.” Stark stated. “Of course I can build it.”

“Build what?” Steve asked, picking up on the conversation as he walked by.

“An energy sucking thing.” You answered. “You’re looking better.”

“I’m feeling better,” he nodded gratefully, “thanks for the alcohol.”

“Aw, what!” Tony whined. “There was alcohol and I didn’t get any.”

“Technically, you did.” You pointed out. “Except yours was the kind that goes in cuts.”

“She’s got a point.” Steve laughed.

“Anyways, you work on your device.” You told Tony. “I’ll make us breakfast.” Ignoring Steve’s offers of help, you walked into your kitchen and pulled out the things you needed for pancakes. You’d only made three before Wade walked in, looking much more awake than yesterday. As soon as you saw his mask, you burst into laughter.

“You said two, not four!” He complained.

“It was two; two on your forehead and two on your mask.” You replied, sticking out your tongue like a child in the process. “The others are working on the device.”

“Device?” Wade asked excitedly. “Does it blow stuff up? Or,” he gasped, “make chimichangas?”

“What?” You furrowed your brows. “What is up with you and chimichangas anyways?”

“They’re delicious.” He preached. “They’ve got enough succulent flavor to make even the most stern of mothers weep.” You giggled at his use of words.

“Homer, quit your yapping and go listen to the plan.” You ordered. “I’ve got pancakes to make.” He gave you a wink and salute before walking off in the direction of the others. Almost half an hour had passed before the four others returned. You had a very large stack of pancakes waiting for them, your own already on a separate plate. “Help yourself.”

“Pancakes!” Wade squealed, jumping at the stack.

“You should probably get that off before we go.” You laughed, gesturing to the two dicks you had drawn on his mask while he was sleeping.

“Why?” He whined. “It adds character!”

“You’d all better eat up and rest while you can because as soon as Stark is done with that device, we’re moving out.” Fury stated. You nodded to him once, going back to being serious. Fury was right, that machine was going to put up one hell of a fight.

You’re back was pressed against the cool metal as you caught your breath. Wade was propped up next to you, talking to himself. Or maybe, he was talking to you, you wouldn’t know the difference at the moment.

“Kiss me for good luck?” He asked suddenly. Your mind finally registered his request.

“Oh, we all get out of this alive and I’ll do a hell of a lot more than kiss you.” You promised, pushing yourself off the ground and back into the fight. Your statement earlier had been a drastic understatement. You and Wade were tasked with keeping the metal asshole occupied while Steve and Stark were getting the device inside his mainframe. Fury had gone with a team of agents to aid the rest of the Avengers, leaving you and Wade as target practice. You were dodging the blasts of fire the machine was blasting out, cursing Stark in your mind. The steady stream of fire was interrupted, turning into some clear blast. “What the-“

“Hell.” Wade finished dryly as a blast hit him and he began melting into nothing more than a pile of mush. Your eyes widened as you made your way to him, keeping up an energy shield to deflect the machine’s blows.

“Wade?” You looked down at him.

“I’ll be fine.” He stated.

“You’re a puddle.” You replied, laughing despite the situation.

“What can I say?” He looked up at you. “Some people are worth melting for.” You furrowed your brows.

“Did-,” you paused, looking skeptical. “Did you just quote a child’s movie to me?”

“Leave me to be and die!” Deadpool cried out dramatically. You rolled your eyes.

“Well, get your ass moving soon.” You said sternly. “There’s no way I can hold this guy’s fire for long.” Morphing your shield to a ball of energy, you went on the offensive once again. “Stark.” You called into your earpiece. “Do you think you can hurry up?” Jumping to the right, you barely dodged a laser blast. “What the fuck were you thinking when you built this thing?”

“We just need one more minute.” Steve responded.

“You’ve had a damn minute!” You levitated slightly above the ground, hoping to speed up your dodges.

“Well, we need another one!” Tony bickered. Sensing your change in attack, the machine attached its two arms together and formed one massive, red ball.

“Oh fuck.” You flew out of the line of fire, the tip of the attack burning your foot slightly. You fell to the ground, hissing. “Shit!” You shouted, cradling your foot in one hand. It wasn’t too bad, you just needed a moment to rest.

“(Y/N)!” Wade yelled as a laser blast was headed right for you. He jumped in the way, shielding your body with his own while he waited for the inevitable pain.

“Wade, you can get off.” You said, pushing him to the side.

“What?” He questioned, looking at the energy field surrounding them. “You ruined my knight in shining armor moment!”

“That will only work on damsels in distress.” You replied, pulling yourself to your feet. “Stark, how much longer?”

“Just a few… seconds.” His voice sounded distant, the sound of keys clicking in the distance. “Now, Steve.” He called. You and Wade watched as Steve attached the device to his shield and threw it into the neck of the machine. Before it had a chance to react, the machine powered down.

“Send it now, (Y/N).” Steve informed you. You pushed yourself into flight, focusing your concentration on the device. With the movement of your arms, you sent the energy to the Aether. You flew down to where Tony, Steve, and Wade were gathering.

“Never build something like that again.” You warned Stark.

“Noted,” his eyes looked softer, “and also noted that you can be trusted.” You nodded in acknowledgment, not expecting anything more from him.

“You guys go take care of your team; Fury will send a cleanup team later.” They both said their goodbyes, anxious to see how their friends were doing.

“We all made it.” Wade stated. “Alive.” You smiled deviously at him.

“Yes, we did.” With quick movements, you removed his mask and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Partially thanks to you.” You pulled his head down to your own, connecting your lips in a dominating kiss. Almost instantly, you jumped up and wrapped your legs around his waist, pushing yourself closer to him. He caught you easily; one hand supporting your bottom while the other rested on your back. You ran your tongue along the roof of his mouth, squeezed his ass, then dropped back to the ground. “You’ll have to earn the rest.” You winked, leaving him standing there. He stared where you were only seconds ago, left needing more.

“Two can play at that game.” He muttered, his mind already forming ways to get back at you.

Linger like a haunting refrain

So I accidentally wrote this instead of actually doing work at work today. You can all blame trashstiles, who is a bad influence on me, and 1940s music, which is an excellent influence on me. Anyways. Please enjoy nurse!Lydia and soldier!Stiles. I’m sorry. (Lyric in the title is from You Go To My Head by Billie Holiday, which I think is an excellent Stydia song.)

“Hey. Remember me?”

Lydia is well-trained enough to not react whens she hears a weak, feeble voice directed at her. She’s always been able to keep her emotions in check, but since she had graduated a year early from nursing school in order to serve in the war, that skill has become more useful than ever. She lets her face remain calm as she finished examining the bandages on the arm of her patient, then turns around to face the soldier who had spoken.

He is nearly indistinguishable under swollen lids, bruised cheeks, and a bloodied lower lip. There’s a bandage around his head, and another one draping over his right eye. His left, however, is twinkling.

“You should be lying down,” says Lydia immediately, pressing against his shoulders to get him to slide down. He is pliant, staring up at her with a smile splitting his cut-up lip.

“You don’t remember,” he comments, still beaming.

“Have I treated you before?” Lydia inquires, hands busying themselves with the rough fabric of his white-cotton bed-covers.

“Naw,” he says. “I’ve dodged more than my fair share of bullets in this war.”

For the first time, Lydia looks up, focusing on the soldier’s face. She feels s jolt of familiarity at the moles on his neck and the slope of his nose, one that she used to glare at constantly as he fidgeted in class. It’s bigger now, and the flesh there is darkened with blood and muck, but it’s the same nose.

“Stiles Stilinski,” she says, heart skipping a beat at his name. “You still an encyclopedia for completely useless information?”

He looks on indignantly as she finds a cloth, dips it in water, and begins to dab at his nose. She wants all the caked blood and dirt off of him; wants him just as fresh and new as he had been when they’d gotten fake-married in the schoolyard when they were in the third grade, Scott McCall acting as both the officiator and the best man.

“Useless?” Stiles echoes. “You must mean ‘vital.’ And 'relevant.'”

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Carlos Week! (Late) Sunday- Headcanon Day

Carlos is almost always scratched up and bruised. Science isn’t easy on anybody and no matter how gorgeous they might be. He might look a little ruffled up but he’s still warm at heart. Carlos has been tweeked up a bit since I first drew him but not much has changed. His gold eyes shine the brightest right next to his heart and his smile is still as handsome as ever