You take my shoes. I take yours.

I will admit. I have a dirty run down pair of shoes, and my mother has a habit of throwing things like that out. Without telling me.

I thought she had thrown away my shoes. I asked her and she said. “Check the garbage first.” Naturally when her and my father left I looked through the garbage can. One disgusting bag later and no shoes. Convinced she threw them out somewhere else. I decided I needed to get some revenge.

She has her shoes on a shoe rack, so I meticulously took out just the left shoe out of every slot and then hid them around our house. When they got home my mother laughed when she saw her missing shoes and then asked me where they were. I told her, “Check the garbage first.”

That was about a month ago. She still hasn’t found all her shoes yet. And turns out she did not throw mine away. She was hiding them in a closet.

“Laura, I’ve heard enough and I can’t let you stay here anymore. You’re coming home with me right now.”

“No, I can’t just leave. After everything I’ve done, everything we’ve done to save this place, I can’t just leave them.”

“You barely know these people and I’m your father. It’s too dangerous and I said you’re coming home. End of discussion.”

“But I love her!”


“Carmilla. I love her, dad. I’m not leaving her again.”

Originally posted by ludwigvondracula

Warning: You having kids who are 100% Digger’s kids. Seriously, you are a fertility goddess.  

A/N: I feel lost with this one. 

PS: A Chakram is a pretty awesome weapon you can throw! 

If you were honest with yourself, you had never thought Digger could be a good father or even be there for you when you needed him the most, but he had proved you so wrong.

The day you had told him you were pregnant with your first son, he had run away, shoked and perplexed. You had cried for an hour before he finally came back, apologizing for upsetting you and running away like a coward. He had even bought your unborn child a stuffed purple unicorn, named Chakram.

Of course, you had accepted his apology. Digger had been your boyfriend for two years back then, and you couldn’t just have left him.

You fully understood why someone would react like that.

Seven years and another three kids later, you were pregnant again. Your fifth child. You had groaned and decided that after you gave birth to your child, you would make sure to not get pregnant again.

You shifted slightly on the couch and cuddled your back deeper into Digger’s chest while your thoughts swirled around. It was a nice silent evening and Digger held you in his arms, slowly caressing your belly. Just two more months until Baby number five would be there. You hummed. 

“I feel hungry.”


“Feed me.” You leaned your head back and pouted up to your boyfriend. “It’s not only my fault that I’m pregnant again, love.”

Digger’s eyes narrowed before he let out a surrendig moan. “Fine.”

You smiled as he stood up and helped you get comfortable again.

Then, the silence was disturbed by your rioting sons. You gazed at the two boys, both laughing aloud and running with Boomerangs around - the boomerangs Digger had gotten them for their last birthday.  

“Boys, no running around with boomerangs!” You shouted, exhausted and looked over to the playpen where your youngest boy should have been. But it was empty . “And where is…” You stopped and stretched to look behind the couch where your youngest son always liked to play. “There he is.” A smile graced your lips. One thing the little man was an expert of - his talent of getting out of that damn playpen. “Hon, come out.”

“Uh-uh.” He didn’t even look up, still playing with the purple unicorn, which belonged to your oldest boy, who was currently asleep. You let out a sigh. The twins, the middle-kids, were the hardest to tame. Being only five years old they were in a stubborn, energic and rough phase of their life. While your oldest, a little bit over a year older, had been more pleasent, the two little devils had too much Digger in them. And so they liked to tease the youngest. 

“Come to mama, hon.” You softened your voice. “I bet Chakram would like to cuddle.” 

Immediately he looked up and waddled aroung the couch. You helped him to get on the couch and let him cuddle up beside you, Chakam in his hands. He looked so much like Digger. Same hair colour, same eyes, same and same lips. 

You sighed. 

You wanted one child. One child to look at least a little bit like you, but Digger had apparently strong genes.

“Hope the next one doesn’t look like another Digger…” You murmured under your breath, caressing your son and your belly, feeling another kick,. “I hope you’re gonne be a girl. I have 4 boys and a big toddler, I don’t need another one.” 

“I’ve heard that, Darl’s.” 

(Requests for Imagines and Headcanons are open!)

Don’t Say A Word

The title and some inspiration for this fic comes from this song: Don’t Say A Word- Ellie Goulding.

Thank you to the lovely anon who sent in this request, I really hope you like what I did with it. Please don’t be afraid to message me after you read it. Hope you enjoy x

Requests are open if you would like to request something and feedback is very much food for my soul so please do not be shy.

Request: This is weird and I understand if you can’t do it but, request where y/n suffers a trauma and stops speaking completely, and have it with Bucky? I trust you to take the story wherever you want. Absolutely no pressure and thank you! Love your work xx

Warnings: This is very different to anything I have written so far! So the main trauma that reader suffers is her own past as a puppet of Hydra thanks to her asshole father. I gave her powers quite similar to Wanda’s but hers are much more sensitive to emotions and other people’s emotions. 

Words: c. 3,162

Originally posted by sebastianstahp

When Bucky first arrived at the tower you had been an enigma to him, your gaze was direct, piercing, and there was something quite other worldly about you, as though you had lived for centuries, as though you were some Pagan priestess that had had been trapped in an existence of immortality, or a mythic figure trapped between two worlds.

When Steve had introduced you to Bucky, you didn’t stick your hand out awkwardly in an attempt to make him shake it, you didn’t look at him with mistrusting, or worst still, pitying eyes. Instead you offered the briefest nod of your head, gentle and graceful, and Bucky felt calmness flow through him.

He observed you over the next few days, you tended to keep to yourself, often he would find you alone in the library or you would go for long jogs by yourself, you seemed like the loneliest creature in the world and even though Steve was insistent upon Bucky healing and he fussed over him like he was some broken thing, Bucky sincerely thought Steve’s focus was entirely misguided and it was you he should be focusing on.

“She’s always been this way since she joined the team,” Steve had argued when Bucky broached the topic “Tony arranged for her to have sessions with a therapist, but the point of therapy is you have to talk. Can’t achieve much when you refuse to actually speak.”

“Refuse to speak?” Bucky had questioned and Steve shrugged his shoulders.

“She hasn’t spoken a word to anyone since she arrived here, and she wasn’t born mute, Tony did a quick medical background check and she’s psychologically cleared to work on the field so I don’t think it’s something we need to worry too much about. It can be quite unsettling at first but she’s actually sweet when you get to know her.”

“Yeah but people don’t just stop speaking for no reason Steve,” Bucky sighed.

Steve merely shrugged and continued eating but Bucky had lost his appetite.

Keep reading


OKAY SO HERE MY ASS GOES, no,, if you look up curious George, he doesn’t have a tail, I’m aware, it’s not there, in none of the books it’s there, it’s gone, but a h u g e amount of people recall him as having a tail,, and there’s many situations like this (ex. “Luke I am your father” is just “I am your father” or some shit) anD THIS IS CALLED THE MANDELA EFFECT,, meaning, at some point in time we overlapped with an alternative universe, and in turn the some minor things changed, causing something to be different than the majority remembers it as, anD that’s some conspiracy there, and just to,, clear up.

@starrsy @cherry–cigarettes

(Btw this is not to start major arguments or anything)

Breakfast wasn’t anything special, it never was. He’d typically stay to himself and eat his meal like everyone else around him. But as the mail came in, Oli cursed under his lips when he saw the howler in his family’s owl. He braced himself to hear the words he’d only imagined could come out of it before opening the red envelope. His father’s booming voice practically filled the Great Hall for everyone to hear. “You know, I didn’t believe it when I got word that my son was a faggot, sleeping with a Weasley boy. I raised you better than this. Our family is better than this. How the hell did you get to be this way? I thought I did everything to make sure this wasn’t something that could even cross your fucking mind. But no, somehow I ended up with the biggest disappointment I could ask for as a son. I hope you enjoy your life because from this moment on, Oliver Greenwood, you are no son of mine. You don’t deserve the Greenwood name and if this is where our family’s name dies out, so be it. Don’t you ever fucking think about stepping foot into my house ever again. If I even see you around, you’re dead, and I mean that. I’m a man of my word.” The howler tore itself up and he sat there, a bit stunned, not quite sure what to do. He’d prepared himself for this, but he sort of hoped it would never come. He silently gathered his things and walked out of the Great Hall, finding a spot on some stairs where no other students were looming. When he heard footsteps, he shook his head. “I, uh, I just want to be alone, okay?”

butdudethatsmysandwich  asked:

Hey, so my boyfriend and I live a few states from each other and I haven't told my parents yet. I'm scared of how they'll think of me and him. Do you have any advice? Like how long should I wait?

Oliver: It took me until the very last minute to tell my mother and father about Veronica, my girlfriend of two-and-a-half years who lived in the USA. I still don’t even know why, because it’s not like I was ashamed of her. I just felt private about it, and didn’t want to deal with questions or teasing or anything if I didn’t happen to. I wanted to do things on my own terms and avoid unsolicited advice. And there was no real reason to do it until the prospect of an overseas trip was in sight.

In your case, if you’re only states away, then I suspect the secrecy is stopping you from seeing him! And that should be the most important thing of all to you, so you should tell them when a good opportunity arises. That is, of course, if shyness is the only reason you haven’t.

Veronica: Yeah, I’m not sure about the dynamics you have with your parents, whether they would be really accepting of the relationship or not. My mother was strict about me dating, but I told her about Souppy early on because I couldn’t really keep secrets from her especially when I was getting giant packages from Australia :U I KINDA HAD NO CHOICE, meanwhile Souppy was always using eBay at 13-14 so his parents didn’t bat an eye over a package being delivered to him. My life was monitored more, but I was an easy daughter to monitor because I used to never leave the house because I lived on the internet lmao!!!!!!

She was really cool about Souppy because she didn’t think it was “real” since he lived so far away. She didn’t want me being a ~GIANT WHORE~ and going out and dating people physically, so Souppy was a “safe” boyfriend to her. He didn’t “distract” me from my schoolwork. 

When we met IRL she made sure to make me feel pretty awful about being intimate with him :U NOTHING UNTIL MARRIAGE DON’T BE A TRAMP ETC ETC etc

But I digress, you should be looking out for your safety most of all, and your partner should understand that, or work out a way where you can be together without family ruining it. Or maybe your parents will surprise you in a positive way if you’re worried about them not being very accepting! But maybe have a Plan B is Plan A (Accepting parents) doesn’t work out. I hope it does!

showerinyaoi  asked:

Hmmmm..... I can't do anything to you, in which your father has already done to you... -Zen


Give it a bit of thinking, I’m sure even that average brains of yours can come up with something. If not, I’ll make sure to do it to you.

Piss off,

Han Jumin

hellolovedoves  asked:

Okay, I just read your vampire sambucky fic and what I need you to know is that Steve telling Bucky to "Do it" was my cause of death. Like, I am so DECEASED. How many Hail Mary's does it take to get a soul back? I dunno. But I'll be drawing fanart until I figure it out.

look okay look I read this ask and the line ‘how many Hail Marys does it take to get a soul back’ and then I fell down into so many Steve feelings:

when i close my eyes (i still see your ghost)

Bless me Father, for I have sinned. It has been seventy-two years since my last confession.

He hasn’t been to Confession since Bucky fell. Since before he fell. No churches in the wilderness of war, except the bombed-out shells they took shelter in, but he’s been back between missions often enough he could have gone. Should have gone.

What would he have said?

Bless me, Father. I have loved a man, and oh god, I’m so afraid.

Does it make it worse or better, he wonders, wishing he could drink, if you’re afraid the man you love isn’t a man at all, but something darker, something sharper, something that smiles at you wearing the face of your best friend? Is that a mortal or venial sin?

Keep reading


“Seriously, him of all people? Why didn’t you tell me you were seeing my Captain. I adopted you because I loved you and you mean the world to me, a heads up would have been nice,” your father yells. You sigh, “I know, dad. If it wasn’t for you I don’t know were I would be but you have to understand I love him.”

Requested By: Anonymous



There’s so many of you guys now!!


first picture:






second picture:





iamyourdetermination​ (you’re the entire background whoops)


third picture:




and also iamyouridiocy who I’m pretty sure deleted their account before they did anything so

but they did exist at one point so they’re here too

knight-kennedy replied to your post:I’m not crying over Boba Fett you’re crying over…

Why are you crying over Boba Fett?

I just have so many feelings about this little boy who hero-worships the father who loved him more than life itself and was orphaned as a little kid before being raised by a bunch of assholes to become an awkward, uncomfortable adult who looks in the mirror every day to see the face of the father he lost.