it's just that my brain picks men apart into their faults

I’ve had guys tell me, ‘I’ll never feel for anyone the way i feel for you’

And I’m like, 'well, yeah, because it’s neurologically impossible to have identical emotionally associative response patterns for two separate people you’re receiving input from.’

Which I guess????

Isn’t the response they’re looking for??????


Sparks Chapter 9

Originally posted by fvckmxk

Pairing: Bucky(POV) X Reader(POV) ft. other characters from the avengers team

Word Count: 2.2K

Summary: Bucky volunteers to be y/n’s date at a prestigious scientific gala y/n is invited to speak at. Bucky’s feelings for y/n grow and he catches himself gaping at her. After the gala they go back to y/n’s apartment for take out, a movie, and a sleepover. They share a bed once again but this time y/n feels different. After a violent attack with an intruder Bucky saves y/n’s life and realizes he would do anything for her: including kill.

A/N: This is a story about two people building a great friendship and then slowly falling in love. y/n is a strong, independent, and smart scientist. She meets Bucky when she wakes him up from cryo sleep and they become friends. This is going to have all the angst / best friends falling in love / fluff / drama / & eventual smut ;) that I can possibly fit in it. This fic is going to be looong! So far my document is like 80 pages. So editing is hard If you catch any grammatical or formatting errors let me know.

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( @caddycrystalqueen’s fault, I have nothing to do with it!)

Since people are asking about this headcanon here – yes, Yondu absolutely, 100 %, found the drawing at some point, when Peter already had all but forgotten about it. One time Peter is being difficult about cleaning his stuff up and lets it just lie all around the ship, and Yondu’s so pissed about that that he snatches the nearest bundle of blasters, rocket shoes and what-else and marches into Peter’s room, throwing it all onto the bed with such a force that the mattress slides aside. He’s ready to yell and chew out the boy with gusto, but Quill isn’t there – having sneaked out again – and Yondu grunts, deciding to wait there.

It’s then that his gaze lands of a piece of paper that has fluttered onto the ground, bright colors of pink and yellow and much blue catching his attention.

It shows stick figures of different height, Yondu realizes when he absentmindedly bends to pick it up because he’s curious like that, the tiniest figure having “Me” written under it in wobbly letters. There’s a figure with shoulder-length hair, most of its face a bright smile, and there’s “Mum” under it.

They’re standing in the middle of a field, a yellow dot – a sun – above them, and blue all around them to represent the sky.

But that’s not what makes Yondu startle. It’s the other figures.


Tulck (written completely wrong, and Yondu’s teeth flash in a crooked smile at that)



He pauses at that, fingertips lingering on the blue silhouette that’s supposed to be him. Red dots represent his eyes and his smile is as wide as the mother’s, and the blue dot-with-lines that should be his hand is stretched out toward lil’ Quill’s hand.

He’s not supposed to be on this picture, shouldn’t be as important as the boy’s Momma or even as his men, but there he is, and drawn as wobbly as it is careful…

The door flies open, banging against the wall, and without much thought, Yondu’s quick fingers fold the drawing and stuff it into his coat before he whirls and faces a flabbergasted Peter.

“What are you doing in my room?!”

“My ship, boy, I can go wherever the fuck I want!”

“Get ou-…!”

“Don’t’cha dare to order me ‘round, lil’ Quill!”

“What do you want?!”

“For ya clean up yer damned messes, boy! Git!”

“What are you gonna do otherwise, ground me?!”

“Eat’cha for all I care, now git!”

“This is getting so fucking old…!”

Yondu reaches for the boy, determined to drag him out, and Peter ducks, but not fast enough – the Captain has him wrestled into a light headlock in the blink of an eye, dragging him along as they walk out of the room.


“This way, Quill, right back ta work.”

“Oh I don’t fucking believe this, what are you, my Nanny?!”

The thought makes Yondu bellow out a laugh, and Peter is smirking too. “Right boy-o, sometimes I feel like one.”

“Next thing you know, you fly around and sing Disney songs.”



“I think yer Terran-brain ain’t workin’ properly, Quill.”

“I’m still smarter than half of your crew!”

“Sad thing is that yer right with that.”

Peter laughs and playfully shoves at him and Yondu squeezes back and they’re right back at it, bickering and passing quips back and forth with ease, and the picture goes forgotten.

It’s because of that, Yondu tells himself, that he ends up keeping the damned thing in his coat pocket, safely tucked away, only for him to know about Peter’s forgotten treasure, only for him to carefully pull it out now and again to take another look at it in the quiet of his private room.

It’s  because of that that the damned thing fades only slightly, paper greying and yellowing over the years, and it’s only discovered by someone apart from Yondu again when his son and his friends prepare his funeral for him.

It’s because of that that Peter suddenly breaks down crying and howling next to Yondu’s corpse again, piece of paper between his fingers and cursing and screaming over “damned bastard, damned sneaky a-hole…!” while Kraglin takes one look at the thing between his fingers and then proceeds to draw him into a bone-crushing hug while everyone else runs over to them, helpless as they grieve over a father, a friend and someone who kept everything safe for them for so many years.

You Do It (Rogers/Wilson/Barton/Stark)

Request: Maybe Steve being terrified for fatherhood and not taking it well; and going to the men of the house for comfort and to talk sense into him.

You had been at the hospital for only ten minutes, and Steve was already in a full-blown panic, breathing far too quickly, wringing his hands together until they stung and his skin was rubbed to the threat of tearing under the strain.  The nurses were settling you into your room for the delivery of yours and Steve’s first child, and only now did it become clear to the man that this was actually going to happen.  He had been in an oblivious state of excitement and wonder over the last nine months, never once stopping to allow the reality in, and now that it was practically slapping him in the face, he was scared to death.

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1/ Remnants of Time

Prologue | … | Chapter 2


Word Count: 3.813
Song Choice: Soothsayer - Zack Hemsey
Special a/n: nope. have fun with the first chapter. please accept hugs as repayment for comments and feedback. :)

Natasha pulled herself up a balcony, her leg wound scraping against metal and then stone, the burst of pain making her suck in a harsh breath. She almost let out a moan but no, she needed to concentrate and mainly, to not be noticed. That was because right now, a number of men entered the street underneath her, all clad in the same uniforms, carrying handguns and expecting another surprise attack by the scarlet spy.
Not today, she decided with a look at her leg, but I’ll sure come back for more.

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To @laureningall   from @bowsmoakandarrow

It started small and spiraled out of control. Hope you love it!

The warmth from the hot chocolate in her hands spread throughout her body as the crisp air bit at her nose. It was a colder-than-usual holiday in Star City this year, at least according to what her co-workers said, and she had donated most of her heavy clothing from Boston before she moved here. She tugged her scarf up higher on her neck and sipped at the hot liquid.

“What about this one?”  

Felicity spun around at the sound of her roommate’s voice. Lacey stood over among a small row of shorter Christmas trees and continued to run her fingers over one of the branches. “What about it?”

Lacey pointed at the small tree on the right. “How does this one look?”

“Like a Christmas tree?”

“Felicity! You’re not helping!”

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After posting my favourite Fitzgerald quotes from This Side of Paradise and The Beautiful and Damned here, I decided to dedicate a post from to one of my favourite book of all time and the first Fitzgerald novel I read. 

The following are a list of my favourite quotes from The Great Gatsby:

“I wasn’t actually in love, but I felt a sort of tender curiosity.”

“And so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees, just as things grow in fast movies, I had that familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer.”

“I was within and without, simultaneously enchanted and repelled by the inexhaustible variety of life.”

“Let us learn to show our friendship for a man when he is alive and not after he is dead.”

“He did not know that it was already behind him, somewhere back in that vast obscurity beyond the city, where the dark fields of the republic rolled on under the night.”

“You see I usually find myself among strangers because I drift here and there trying to forget the sad thing that happened to me.”

“There are only the pursued, the pursuing, the busy and the tired.”

“So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.”

“Reserving judgments is a matter of infinite hope.”

“They had never been closer in their month of love, nor communicated more profoundly one with another.”

“Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the fall.”

“But his heart was in a constant, turbulent riot. The most grotesque and fantastic conceits haunted him in his bed at night. A universe of ineffable gaudiness spun itself out in his brain while the clock ticked on the washstand and the moon soaked with wet light his tangled clothes upon the floor.”

“No amount of fire or freshness can challenge what a man will store up in his ghostly heart.”

“I couldn’t forgive him or like him, but I saw that what he had done was, to him, entirely justified.”

“There must have been moments even that afternoon when Daisy tumbled short of his dreams – not through her own fault, but because of the colossal vitality of his illusion.”

“All I kept thinking about, over and over, was ‘You can’t live forever; you can’t live forever.’”

“So we drove on toward death through the cooling twilight.”

“I felt a haunting loneliness sometimes, and felt it in others — young clerks in the dusk, wasting the most poignant moments of night and life.”

“In his blue gardens men and girls came and went like moths among the whisperings and the champagne and the stars.”

“If personality is an unbroken series of successful gestures, then there was something gorgeous about him.”

“The exhilarating ripple of her voice was a wild tonic in the rain.”

“He talked a lot about the past, and I gathered that he wanted to recover something, some idea of himself perhaps, that had gone into loving Daisy. His life had been confused and disordered since then, but if he could once return to a certain starting place and go over it all slowly, he could find out what that thing was.”

“His dream must have seemed so close that he could hardly fail to grasp it. He did not know that it was already behind him.”

“So I walked away and left him standing there in the moonlight, watching over nothing.”

“Do you always watch for the longest day of the year and then miss it? I always watch for the longest day in the year and then miss it.”

“It is invariably saddening to look through new eyes at things upon which you have expended your own powers of adjustment.”

“People disappeared, reappeared, made plans to go somewhere, and then lost each other, searched for each other, found each other a few feet away.”

“Human sympathy has its limits, and we were contented to let all their tragic arguments fade with the city lights behind.”

“I began to like New York, the racy, adventurous feel of it at night, and the satisfaction that the constant flicker of men and women and machines gives to the restless eye.”

“One emotion after another crept into her face like objects into a slowly developing picture.”

“Their eyes met and they stared together at each other, alone in space.”

“He snatched the book from me and replaced it hastily on its shelf, muttering that if one brick was removed the whole library was liable to collapse.”

“The afternoon had made them tranquil for a while, as if to give them a deep memory for the long parting the next day promised.”

“Blessed are the dead that the rain falls on.”

“He must have looked up at an unfamiliar sky through frightening leaves and shivered as he found what a grotesque thing a rose is and how raw the sunlight was upon the scarcely created grass.”

“He looked around him wildly, as if the past were lurking here in the shadow of his house, just out of reach of his hand.”

“He smiled understandingly — much more than understandingly. It was one of those rare smiles with a quality of eternal reassurance in it, that you may come across four or five times in life. It faced — or seemed to face — the whole external world for an instant, and then concentrated on you with an irresistible prejudice in your favor. It understood you just so far as you wanted to be understood, believed in you as you would like to believe in yourself, and assured you that it had precisely the impression of you that, at your best, you hoped to convey.”

“And as I walked on I was lonely no longer. I was a guide, a pathfinder, an original settler.”

“I hope she’ll be a fool – that’s the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool.”

“The loneliest moment in someone’s life is when they are watching their whole world fall apart, and all they can do is stare blankly.”

“Angry, and half in love with her, and tremendously sorry, I turned away.”

“He looked at her the way all women want to be looked at by a man.”

“The city seen from the Queensboro Bridge is always the city seen for the first time, in its first wild promise of all the mystery and the beauty in the world.”

“I thought of Gatsby’s wonder when he first picked out the green light at the end of Daisy’s dock. He had come a long way to this lawn and his dream must have seemed so close that he could hardly fail to grasp it. He did not know that it was already behind him.”

“They were careless people, Tom and Daisy- they smashed up things and creatures and then retreated back into their money or their vast carelessness or whatever it was that kept them together, and let other people clean up the mess they had made.”

“Gatsby turned out all right at the end; it is what preyed on Gatsby, what foul dust floated in the wake of his dreams that temporarily closed out my interest in the abortive sorrows and short-winded elations of men.”