just bringing this back for america

yeahishipitbitch  asked:

Do you guys have any fics with shotgunning? I live for sexually charged shotgunning with sterek! Thank you! :)

I’ve got explicitly rated shotgunning ;)  Hope that works!  -Emmy

Whispers of Smoke by orphan_account 

(1,175 I Explicit I Complete)

Basically Stiles and Derek get high and have sex

Anytime by Marishna 

(2,225 I Mature I Complete)

“Sorry!”

Stiles snorted and started laughing, too.  “For what?” he chuckled.

“Stiles,” Derek mumbled.  “I think I’m high.”

Stiles laughed harder and louder, the sound echoing off the trees and interrupting the birds and crickets.  Derek watched him for a second, then joined in, leaning heavily on Stiles while his body shuddered as he gasped for breath.

Stoners in Love (With Mary Jane) by deafmusiq 

(2,304 I Explicit I Complete)

 “Why do you always get first hit?” Stiles laid back on Derek’s bed again after taking the proffered blunt.

Derek took a moment to reply, his hands getting busy with the next joint before he exhaled, a large plume of smoke floating from his lips. “I get first hit because I rolled. Because I actually know how.“

New Romantics by Scavengersdaughter2 

(2,967 I Explicit I Complete)

Stiles and Derek don’t have a normal relationship. They’re not quite best friends, not quite lovers. They’re something new and different.
They wouldn’t have it any other way.

Breathe Me In And Let Me Stay by alakewood

(3,058 I Explicit I Complete)

It’s the first day of summer vacation and Stiles and Scott are supposed to have a bro-date to gorge on pizza and marathon all the Marvel movies.  Then Allison texts Scott and Scott bails and Stiles is left to share the pizza they’ve already ordered with Derek.  But that’s not all they share.

I’m Breathing In The Chemicals by laminy

(4,067 I Explicit I Complete)

Stiles needs a smoke. He ends up at Derek’s with the promise of one. When Stiles finds Derek’s particular mix a little too strong, Derek tries shotgunning to make it less intense. It doesn’t quite work. Takes place sometime, any time, during or after season three (mentions of Stiles’s hair and Derek’s new apartment).  

Breathe You In by forpony 

(4,694 I Explicit I Complete)

How Stiles and Derek become weed buddies.

Hale to the Chief by LadyLazarus 

(14,403 I Explicit I Complete)

First Son Stiles Stilinski thought college back home in Beacon Hills would be the best thing ever.

That is, until he realized that he’d be stuck with Derek Hale as his roommate the entire year.

Like Real People Do by queerly_it_is 

(15,361 I Explicit I Complete)

Stiles waits until Scott’s focused on the game, eyes narrowed and his tongue poking at the corner of his mouth, fingers tapping at the controller, before he says, “So I think we should kiss.”

Respiration and Inspiration by MajorAccent 

(31,437 I Explicit I Complete)

“Your dad’s the fucking sheriff of my hometown,” Derek hisses when Stiles is pretending to search through the expiration dates on the cartons of 1%. “When were you going to tell me that?”

“Uhm,” Stiles stalls, closing the glass-paned door. “Never?” He ventures. Seeing the hard placed scowl on Derek’s face, Stiles knows it’s not what he wanted to hear. “How was I supposed to bring it up?” He asks, voice pitching on hysterical in the middle before he forces it back down. “Right around the first time I was sparking up, just lean over and go, “Oh, hey, by the fucking way, I’m from Beacon Hills and my dad’s the sheriff, but he doesn’t know I do recreational drugs on the weekly,” and then recite Millay to you? Yeah, because that’d work out so goddamn well.”

I Know We’re The Crooked Kind (But You’re Crooked Too) By refuse_to_sink 

(53,768 I Explicit I Complete)

Derek Hale is in one of the most well known Motorcycle Clubs in America, as well as part of the well known Hale Pack. With that comes a lot of trouble, a lot of death, and a few stints in jail.

Stiles Stilinski, ex boyfriend to Derek Hale walked away from the Motorcycle Club lifestyle at the age of 22, and seven years later turns back up in Beacon Hills. With that comes even more trouble, even more death, and a few stints in jail.

Shit in Beacon Hills gets thrown upside down, and everyone is just trying to make it out alive.

Here in the Forest Dark and Deep by grimm 

(56,572 I Explicit I Complete)  *ghosts

There’s a boy in the woods.

There’s a boy in the woods and he’s always there, rain or shine, day or night.

There’s a creaking in the hall and a knocking on the door and no one is ever there.

Five people died in this house and Stiles Stilinski is not at all sure they’re gone for good.

anonymous asked:

How would the RFA ( v and saeren) react to MC telling them she has to go back to America and they think the worst but MC sees them freaking out and she is like I'm going back to bring my dog !!

Yoosung

  • wha wha whAT
  • when MC tells him that they’ll head to America next week he just
  • WHAT
  • MC is so casual??? 
  • so calm??
  • he stutters and splutters and just can’t speak all around
  • MC sees his freakout and starts laughing
  • no joke he was so sad when MC said that
  • he genuinely thought MC would leave forever??
  • and MC’s like
    • “No, not like that! I need too bring my dog back, you know, the one I told you about?”
  • MC has to repeat themselves a couple of times for him and then he calms down a bunch
  • still though his poor little heart was about to die 
  • like he depends on MC a bit too much sometimes so the thought of MC definitely leaving was like a shotgun wound to his heart smh

Jaehee

  • she’s drinking coffee and MC is next to her, it’s been a long evening and she’s so glad she gets to relax
    • “I forgot to tell you, but I’ll be returning to America next week.”
  • almost spits out her drink
  • chokes on it and starts coughing violently
  • did she hear right? did, did MC really say that??
  • did her relationship with MC mean so little to them that leaving overseas was so easy to do??
    • “Wh-what?!”
  • MC shakes their head and pats her in the back
  • oops maybe you should have been clearer huh MC
    • “Not like that! We had discussed bringing my dog here, remember? It’s that! I’m going for my dog!”
  • Jaehee understands quickly but she’s still coughing from all the coffee that went down her throat in shock
  • *pat pat pat* u ok jaehee?

Zen

  • number one drama queen
  • no seriously MC mentions it super casually, not a big deal
    • “So next week I’m heading back to my place in America, and-”
  • Zen’s phone almost falls out of his hand
  • he grabs MC’s shoulders and his eyes are wide
  • he starts talking super fast
  • MC knows that kinda talk is the way he talks when he’s stressed
  • he’s talking about how if MC needs to return, he understands that it’s inevitable, but he wants to try and maybe long distance-
    • Zen, could you let me finish talking?”
  • freezes
  • holding MC’s shoulders but his mouth is open and not talking
  • um
    • “I’m going for my dog, Zen. We literally talked about my dog yesterday.”
  • drops his arms and laughs at himself a bit
  • sighs too
  • you scared him, babe, please don’t scare him like that again

Jumin

  • but why
  • he stands up the second MC says that
  • he can’t grasp why MC would need to return without telling him
  • money problem? it couldn’t be, because they have him
  • legal problem? he can fix that
  • did MC have a problem they never told him about?
  • MC can see how he’s literally breaking down into himself and intercepts quickly
    • “I’m going for my dog! The dog I showed you! You made me promise that the dog would not bother Elizabeth 3rd! Do you remember?”
  • and then he sits back down and clears his throat
  • oh
  • he clears his throat and plays it off
  • throws the conversation away from his reaction  and starts talking about how he’ll send guards with MC and safety and yada yada yada

707

  • MC never told him because they thought he knew??
  • they just, thought he knew?
  • so one day they’re just there, eating breakfast with him 
    • “So next week when I’m going back home to America….”
  • almost falls off his chair
  • ????
  • when you what???
  • WHEN YOU GO BACK WHERE???
  • he almost cries internally because the thought is so soul-crushing
  • he can’t follow MC to America, he’d put them in danger
  • can MC go to America without being in danger due to him???
    • “Seven, chill! It’s just the dog! My dog!! The soon-to-be our dog!”
  • deep breaths as he comes back to life
  • laughing at himself while he puts his hand on the table to support himself
  • he almost died MC don’t do this to ya boy
I Will Take Care Of You

Summary: Like I say ti @amrita31199 this is one where Steve gets a massage and his dick sucked. 

Words: 2647

Paring: Steve x Reader

Warnings: smut (oral and penetrative sex) and loats of fuffly

You wake up alone in bed, again it’s the third time this has happened this week.

Steve came back from a mission a few days ago, he was tired and needed a rest but nobody was allowing him to do so. Between mission reports to fill in, training and meetings he didn’t have much time for himself.

You hated that he didn’t take this time to process things, that his idea of self-care was to run a marathon and destroy punching bags. You hated that he barely slept or ate in this last few days because he doesn’t consider it a priority. You just want him to be happy.

Keep reading

Masterlist (avengerofyourheart)

Marvel Reader inserts listed by character, currently Bucky, Steve, Tony, Sam, Scott, and Thor. A huge thank you to @beccaanne814-blog for the gorgeous character banners! 

Accidents Happen Series (reader x Bucky):

Summary: Reader is accident prone, comes from a sheltered background, and has been with the Avengers almost a year when Steve finds Bucky and brings him to the Avengers Tower (post CATWS, pre CACW). Bucky takes an interest in the reader’s quirkiness. (mostly fluff)

Accidents Happen Series Masterlist (FINISHED)

In the Arms of Justice (Bucky Drabble Series):

Summary: Reader is a witness to a crime, tying her to the investigation as well as the police involved. She never would have guessed how that one night would continue to change her life years later. (drama, angst, fluff)

In the Arms of Justice Masterlist (FINISHED)

Leave This Town (Mechanic!Bucky AU Series):

Summary: Your dreams of kissing your small town life goodbye are about to come true when an unexpected detour leaves you stranded. Meeting the handsome local mechanic has you rethinking your plans. Perhaps happiness is less about where you’re headed and more about the people you meet along the way.

Leave This Town Series Masterlist (in progress)

The Lucky One (Movie Challenge Bucky fic):

Summary: As a single mom with a jerk of an ex-husband, you’re doing your best to run the family business all on your own when your mother hires a mysterious man with a troubled past to help out. He just might be what you need in your life, but will his secrets bring you together or tear you apart? (Events occur shortly after Captain America: The Winter Soldier)

The Lucky One Series Masterlist (in progress)

Keep reading

no, but let’s review some of the reasons MCU Maria Hill should be more popular

  • by the time she was 25 or 26, she already had a high enough position at SHIELD to send letters “from the office of Maria Hill”
  • by her late 20s/early 30s, she was the deputy director of SHIELD and Fury’s second in command
  • in TWS, she saved Steve and Natasha and Sam. I think we forget that Natasha would have bled out and died if Maria hadn’t rescued them
    • (y’know, unless HYDRA had executed her and Steve and Sam before she reached that point)
  • also in TWS, she was an essential part of bringing SHIELD down (and let’s not forget that “but Steve” moment, okay? if Steve had died she would have been the woman who killed Captain America)
  • before AOU, she was working at Stark Industries, managing the Avengers, and keeping an eye on Coulson and his team—name one other person in the entire MCU who could do that
  • she was barefoot during the Stark Tower fight and afterward she just casually sits there picking glass out of her feet, and then she’s back in her heels the next day
  • not to be completely shallow, but come on, she’s gorgeous

sorry, I just absolutely adore this character 💕

People Can Change

Summary: Y/N is a nerd about to graduate from high school. Dean is her best friend’s older brother who is always with Sam. Together the two of them fight like cats and dogs, but is it hatred causing it or is it love?

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Jessica Moore, Bobby Singer, Reader

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Chubby!Reader, Sam Winchester x Jessica Moore

Warnings: NSFW, smut, self doubt about weight, language

Word Count: 4,687

Request: Do you think you could write me a fanfic where its Dean x Reader but they’re both in high school and the reader is this adorable chubby lil nerd and Dean is a bad boy who used to tease her but they both really like each other and it ends up in smut of fluff please and thank you! Love the writing and keep doing’ you!- Anonymous

A/N: This is my submission for @dancingalone21 Lau’s AU Funny Quote Challenge. My quote was “I say we get drunk and shoot crap.” I hope y’all enjoy I loved writing this because I’m a chubby nerd like the reader. Feedback is always welcomed!

Originally posted by life-of-a-plaidchester

The bell for the end of the day chimed, and all of your classmates started packing their things up. Mr Singer, your teacher yelled out to everyone that they needed to bring their homework in on Monday or they’d receive no credit. As everyone else rushed to get out of the class, you took your time packing your things up before walking to the from of the class.

“Mr. Singer, here’s my homework.” He looked up at you with a smile on his face as he took it from you. “I just figured I would give it to you now.”

“My star pupil, thank Y/N I’ll be sure to get this graded and back to you by Monday.”

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Lift - Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: You confess to Steve that you’ve always wanted to do the Dirty Dancing lift. Somehow, he agrees to do it with you.

Warnings: Kissing

Words: 1 515

A/N: I just really like the Dirty Dancing soundtrack. I have no further motivation for this.

TAKING REQUESTS

Originally posted by ohevansmycaptain


“You are, by far, the most persistent man I’ve ever met.” She said, watching Steve polish his shield to nothing but perfection. He looked up in surprise as her entrance had gone completely unnoticed to him. “It’s almost admirable.”

He rolled his eyes, sighing. “If you came here to mock me, you can keep walking.” He continued to circle the rag in his hand over his beloved shield.

She sat down on the steps of the short stairs in the middle of the armory which led up to slightly raised floor, holding her cup of soda and taking a sip from the straw. “I didn’t come here to mock, I came here for company, if that’s something I’m still allowed to have?”

“Of course it is…” He said defeated, tired of her dramatics yet still in love with her personality.

“So? Anything new happening in your life?” She tried to get a conversation going and he looked up at her, honestly questioning if she was serious or not.

“Like you haven’t been around me the past two weeks?”

“Just answer, damn it.” She said, straw still between her teeth.

He sighed again. “Well, I’ve watched a few movies that have been on my list for a while. That’s about it.”

“About that list… Can I see it?” She asked, watching him sincerely. He dug it out from his pocket and threw it to the steps she were sat at. She picked it up, flickering through the pages and briefly skimming through the words. “Which movies did you watch?”

“Breakfast at Tiffany’s, Some Like It Hot and North by Northwest.” He answered and watched her brows knit together before she looked at him judgmentally.

“Those are all movies from your time, you need to see something fresher, like Fight Club or the Jurassic Park movies.”

“First of all.” He met her narrowed eyes. “They’re not from my time. They’re from the fifties. I think Breakfast at Tiffany’s is from the sixties even. Secondly, I don’t like all that new stuff-”

“I said fresher, not new. Both Fight Club and the first Jurassic Park movie were released in the nineties.”

“Still too fresh… What can I say? I’m old fashioned.” He smirked and she rolled her eyes, laughing sarcastically.

“Can I write a movie down?” She asked after a few seconds, eyes glued to the scribbled things and people on his list.

Steve hesitated. “I don’t want to watch anymore new stuff. Sorry.”

“Oh come on, it’s from 1987! That’s over three decades ago… I really want you to see it!” She pleaded, putting her drink away and focusing on him completely.

“Why do you want me to see it?” He questioned, removing his focus from his shield which had been spot-free for fifteen minutes.

“The movie is called Dirty Dancing… At the end, there’s this historical scene where Patrick Swayze picks up Jennifer Grey with Time of My Life playing in the background. It’s epic, believe me, and you’re probably the one around who’d be most willing to do that with me.”

“You want us to dance?” He pulled his back, wondering if it was truly Y/N sitting before him.

“Well, if you wanna dance then I’ll dance, but it’s just this lift… Here, let me show you.” She handed back his notepad and dug out her phone. “If you’re too stubborn to just watch the movie, I’ll show you the scene.”

She found the clip in mention after a minute and held her phone out to Steve, who watched the screen with focus like she had never seen before. Baby and Jonny danced their hearts out before nearing the end where she ran into his arms, flying up in the air graciously.

“Boom. Classic.” Y/N said as the video ended, throwing her phone on the table nearby.

“You want me to lift you like that?” He continued his questioning as he was still a little loss, and also wondering if he was dreaming or not. Ever since Y/N went from working with the Avengers occasionally to moving into the Tower full time, he had began to slowly like more and more of the unique girl.

“I want the music too, of course.” She said it like it should have been obvious to him. “I want a bit of feeling, you know?”

He tilted his head back and forth before shrugging. “Alright, let’s do it.”

She blinked, staring at him. “What?”

“Let’s to the dance, lift, whatever.”

“Right here?”

“Right now.” He confirmed and stood up from his seat. He took off his jacket so he was left in a white t-shirt and held his hand out for Y/N. She grabbed it hesitantly, not being able to tell if Steve was messing with her or not. He pulled her to her feet before turning up to the speaker in the ceiling. “Friday? Could you put on that song for us? The one we just played?”

Playing it now, Mr. Rogers.” She confirmed and shortly after the song began playing in the room.

“You know how many movies have referenced this scene? Guy and girl, recreating the Dirty Dancing lift? Well, now when I think about it, it might just be one movie, but there’s a bunch of videos of people doing this.”

“Congrats. You’re now one of those people.” He said sarcastically, holding his arms out. Y/N took a long breath and backed away to give her distance to pick up her speed.

“Oh I so can’t believe this is happing right now.” She admitted, taking a deep breath in again.

“You’re surprised that you’re doing it yet you just asked me to do it. How does that go together?” He asked, his voice overpowering the music.

“Cause I didn’t think you’d agree to dance.”

“Do you have any idea what people did in the thirties? All we did was go to wars and dance in between them.” He said when she suddenly bursted out laughing at his comment. He couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face upon hearing her beautiful laughter. That, if anything, was music to his ears.

“Okay, you ready?” She asked as the music was beginning to near the right moment. Steve raised a brow, meeting her eyes which were filled with joy and excitement.

“Are you?”

She began to jog up towards him and he aimed his hands for her waist. As she ran into his grip he raised her above his head, arms straight up and carrying her steadily. She squealed as she held her arms out, hovering in the air with the powerful chorus in the background.

Steve let her body tilt back until her feet were facing down again, wrapping his arms around her legs and slowly letting her sink down until her face became somewhat at level with his own. Her smile had faded and her eyes seemed through stare through his, her heart beating hard enough for him to be able to notice.

“If you only knew how much this is like this other, new movie…” Her voice was airy as Steve stilled carried her, her arms resting on his shoulders.

“What happens next in the movie?” His eyes darted to her plum lips for a brief second, her scent intoxicating.

“Not what’s going to happen here…”

She sunk down and pressed her lips against Steve’s. They molded together with passion like the moment had been anticipated for months, which it had from both their parts. She wrapped her legs around him but Steve sat her down on the table behind them. She became shorter than him again and he placed one hand on the side of her neck and one at the back of her head, curving his head down as he shaped his lips around hers once more.

She pulled away for a second, but there were too many emotions that needed to be expressed. He dipped down and parted his lips, his tongue meeting hers in a mutual understanding of sweet bliss. He felt her arms cradle around his neck and try to push him closer even though it was physically impossible. As they instead traveled down his chest and grabbed the hem of his shirt, inching it up, he moved his hands from her neck and placed them over her hands.

“I think-” He was out of breath, leaning his forehead against hers with his eyes locked on to their hands. “I think we should take it slow.”

She was equally as out of breath as he was. “You do?”

“No.” He admitted. “But I was raised in an era where you took a gal out for dinner before as much as thinking about giving her a peck on the cheek, and I still go by my old ways, no matter how many Dirty Dancing clips you make me watch.”

She smiled, pressing her lips against his again for a short yet just as passionate moment. “What a gentleman.” She chuckled, bringing her arms back to his neck.

“A fella can always try.”

so now that Iron Fist is out, I just realized how closely the Defenders shows’ release order parallels phase 1 of the MCU:

1. Iron Man/Daredevil S1
Features a hero in a bright red suit, received with enormous immediate success

2. The Incredible Hulk/Jessica Jones S1
Hero whose normal appearance really hides the power they possess. Just wants to be left alone tbh. No costume or armour, they’re just themselves.

3. Iron Man 2/Daredevil S2
Bright red suit hero man is back again, to less critical acclaim, but still pretty good.

4. Thor/Luke Cage S1
Hero whose normal appearance clearly shows the enormous physical power he possesses. Serious brother issues because of paternal favouritism.

5. Captain America/Iron Fist S1
Young guy from New York gets in a plane crash in the snow, presumed dead, returns many years later to everyone’s amazement. Training primarily focused on defeating ancient evil cult (since that’s technically what Hydra was originally, inhuman-wise, in the MCU).

6. Avengers/Defenders
Big song and dance number brings our unlikely team of misfits together in New York where they align under a group name that describes what they do for the innocent/general public.

Hate To Love You

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, fighting, violence, blood, inury, bad blood between Reader and Bucky, mentions of breakup

Word Count: 1087

Summary: After you and Bucky breakup you can’t stand to be apart of the Avengers any longer, choosing instead to work for yourself. However when Steve asks for your help, telling you that there was no one else he could ask you agreed to one more mission. 

A/N: I’m re posting this from my old blog, so I’m going to keep the original tag post for part 2 but if you wanted to be added just let me know right HERE !!


“There isn’t anybody else?”
“Sorry y/n, Wanda’s still in Sokovia and I couldn’t get Nat back on such short notice.”
“It’s fine, not your fault Steve,” I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. “What time do we fly out?”
“Zero six hundred tomorrow,” He replied, the sound of relief hanging in his voice. “Thanks for this y/n, I owe you.”
“Yeah, yeah.”

I disconnected the call, feeling my shoulders slump as I leant back on the kitchen bench, already exhausted by the thought of tomorrow’s mission. It wasn’t so much the mission itself though, it would be nice to get back into doing what I’d trained for years to do, it would be nice seeing Steve again. However I was also one hundred percent sure that Bucky would also be assigned on the mission, hence why I had a blooming headache starting already.

It had been eight months since I’d last seen or spoken to him, eight months since we broke up in a fit of shouting, tears and thrown objects. It hadn’t been pleasant and as a result I’d walked straight out of the Avengers compound, fully intending to never ever go back. I had been determined back then to get out of that business completely, find an apartment in the city and go to a normal nine to five job like everybody else. However, once something was in your life it was hard to let it go, so I found myself doing odd freelancing jobs, sometimes even for Nick Fury if he asked.
I wasn’t at all surprised that he’d passed my new number onto Steve, telling him that I would be more than happy to help him out if he needed.

Pushing myself off the bench I moved to the kitchen cabinet, pulling down a glass and the bottle of whiskey I kept for occasions such as these. Uncapping the lid I poured two fingers into the glass, swallowing them down in only two mouthfuls, the amber liquid burning as it went down my throat. I looked up at the clock as I poured out a little more alcohol. Only seven hours to take off.

-

The sound of my boots on the tarmac seemed to magnify in the quiet morning, the fog still hanging low to the ground and the sun only barely peeking out in the horizon. I took a deep breath and watched as it misted out in front of me in the frigid morning air.

“Y/n!”
I spun around at the call of my name, my eyes landing on Steve, dressed up in his Captain America suit, the cap hanging off one of his wrists. He jogged the last feet between us, bringing me swiftly into his arms, lifting me up slightly off the ground.
“It’s so good to see you!” I said with a genuine smile, having only just realized how much I actually missed him. “Eight months hasn’t changed you a bit.”
He shrugged, releasing me from his grip and standing back, his eyes sweeping over my form.
“It’s changed you though,” He chuckled. “You look good y/n.”
“Thanks,” I murmured, feeling the blush creep over my cheeks.

We were pulled from our short reunion as someone cleared their throat behind us, my eyes landing on Bucky, his jaw tense and tight.
“Mind if we move this along?” he glowered, his eyes barely sweeping over me as he turned his glare to Steve.
Steve looked like he was about to reply but I cut him off before he had the chance, my hand landing on my hip as I glared back at the soldier.
“Nice to know that hostility hasn’t left your personality James.”
“You bring it out in me,” He spat back, lips set in a thin line.

Without another word he pushed past us both, making sure that his shoulder bumped mine as he passed, the nudge causing me to stumble slightly. I glared venomously at the back of his head, my hands balling into fists at my side. At this very second the only thing I wanted to do was pull the glock from where it was resting on my side and shoot a nice hole through that metal shoulder of his.

Steve squeezed my shoulder, probably guessing my train of thought, the expression on his face filled with guilt.
“Sorry y/n,” He said. “I didn’t think he’d act quite like that.”
“What exactly were you expecting? It’s not like we ended our relationship on the best of terms,” Steve grimaced and I suddenly felt shitty for taking it out on him; he wasn’t the one acting like a total dick. “Honestly, it’s fine Steve, this is after all a job and no matter how we feel towards each other we might as well be professional about it.”

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Understanding Scottish Independence: for Americans

It seems like a lot of Americans don’t understand the relationship between the UK and Scotland. Let me tell you a story to try to help you understand.

Imagine that Canada has a terrible disaster of some kind. They’re completely bankrupt. They can barely feed themselves. Maybe it was a huge meteor strike or something. Anyway, Canada is kind of lowkey screwed.

So America decides to help their little brother to the north. They offer to bail out Canada, as long as Canada joins the US, and the ten provinces and three territories of Canada become 13 new states.

For a while things are pretty okay. Canadian currency becomes American currency and every Canadian dollar is valued exactly like American dollars. The Canadian capitol in Ottawa is shut down, and Canada sends their representatives and senators to Washington DC. The old provinces can still collect state tax, but all the federal taxes get sent off to the IRS, and the Canadians get Federal funding the same as other states.

Not all Canadians are happy about the arrangement. They feel like their identity as Canadians is lost. It seems like there are more and more barbeque joints and fewer and fewer Tim Horton’s as time goes by. They want to still be Canadians, but everyone now calls them Americans. After all, they’re all from North America, right?

The problems start to arise when it comes to governing. The Americans draft a bill in congress that cuts all funding for French language education and television. The Canadians are incensed! They are told, “You have representatives in Congress. Just tell them to vote against it!”

They do, but there are only 26 Canadian Senators and 50 Canadian Representatives in Congress, while there are 100 Senators and 435 Representatives from the US. Even when Alaska and Minnesota vote with Canada, there are not nearly enough votes, so they lose all of their Federal funding for French tv and education.

That ends up just being the start. The US cuts funding for the Canadian socialised medicine and welfare programs. They decide it’s not fair for them to get better healthcare and welfare protection than the other states. They’re told that if they want to keep those things they’ll have to raise the money from their own state budgets and state taxes. But they have restrictions on how much they can raise in state tax, so services are strained.

There are little problems here and there as well. Whenever Canadians go down to the original states, the locals refuse to take their Canadian money or give them a hard time, even though it is legal US currency.

Most of the former members of the Canadian national hockey team are recruited into the US olympic hockey team. They do really well in the early rounds, and headlines scream “USA! USA!” When the Canadians point out that every player on the team is Canadian, the Americans scoff and say, “Quit being so nationalistic. We’re all Americans.” The team loses in the final to Russia. The headlines scream, “American Bid for Gold Destroyed by Incompetent Canadians.”

Canada is rich in oil and other natural resources, which are now owned by the US government. With so much land and so few people, per capita they contribute more money to the US budget than they get back in Federal spending. They ask to get more of it back to pay for healthcare and education, but they are outnumbered in congress as usual.

Socially, Canadians are just different. The Canadian states legalise gay marriage across the former Canada with little fuss and the only protests came from the south. They have strict firearm restrictions and they resent that Americans keep bringing in guns.

A war breaks out in Europe. Planeloads and boatloads of European refugees pour into North America from Britain, France, and Spain. The President immediately reacts and calls for restrictions on refugees, claiming that there is no space for them, and they’re too dangerous. Meanwhile, Canada wants to welcome as many refugees as possible. There is plenty of space in Canada, they love welcoming new cultures, and they want to help. Unfortunately, immigration is not a state-level power, so they are banned from accepting refugees.

The US decides to increase their military spending and starts wars all over the world, as usual. Canada pays their share and then some. Americans start to feel uncomfortable with all the nuclear stockpiles in the country, but they refuse to get rid of them. Instead, they park their entire store of nukes just outside Toronto. Not a single Canadian voted to approve the move.

Things start to break down. The Canadians have long recovered from their original crisis, and it just seems like they no longer have any power to govern themselves. They are socially far more liberal than the original states, but their votes don’t mean anything in Congress, so they are constantly saddled with an extremely conservative government.

They’ve been an independent country before. They know it’s possible. If they broke out of the US, they could bring back socialised medicine and welfare and the French language. They could spend more on health and education and less on the constant wars. They could make the Americans take their nukes back, so that they aren’t endangering their largest city.

The Americans don’t understand. “Your population is so small! You’re part of the greatest country in the world! You’ll never have that kind of global clout if you leave us.”

But the Canadians don’t want global power. They just want to take care of themselves and be Canadian again.

So that’s basically what the relationship between Scotland and England is like. Scotland doesn’t want an Empire like England does. We just want to take care of ourselves on our own terms. Our priorities and values are just fundamentally different.

Mr. Barnes (Part 2 out of ?)

(A/N): I’m so glad everyone is liking this series so far!

Summary: Living in 1940′s Brooklyn as a crime lord is all fun and games until someone falls in love

Warnings: swearing, mentions of rape

Read Part 1:

(Tags at the end) 


Originally posted by livvy1800

 Bucky sat at his oak desk, a cigar hanging out of his mouth as he breathed in deeply. Ever since that run in with that…with that slum kid Bucky hadn’t been able to keep his mind off of them. Their rosy cheeks and bright eyes kept perforating his thoughts, making it impossible to think about much else. He had business deals to think off, he had other gangs to think about, he had to worry about some prick in England talking shit about him, he didn’t have time to focus on that low life nobody. With a sigh Bucky tossed his cigar into an ash tray, running his hands down his scruffy face. It was nearly half an hour later when A quiet knock on his study door is what finally broke him Out of his stupor. 

   "Yeah?“ Bucky’s voice was hoarse, much more than usual. The tall oak doors swung open to reveal Dot, Bucky’s saving grace, wearing nothing but a silk robe he had bought them for valentines day. "Hello there dot,” Bucky smirks as Dot waltz in, swaying her hips as she made her way to Bucky’s heavy desk. 

   "Hiya Mr. Barnes,“ she smirks as she stops before him, resting her hands on the arms of his chair. "I’ve been missin’ ya today,” Bucky hums as he leans forward, almost touching his lips against hers. 

    “Have you now?” Dot nods, her lips parting in a sultry fashion as she does. 

   "You’re favorite girl is feeling a bit neglected,“

    "Oh, we can’t have that,” Bucky smirks as he grabs Dot’s ass, bringing her down onto his lap. “Now can we?” Dot gasps at the contact, shifting a bit, rubbing herself against Bucky’s leg enticingly. 

   "Sit back and let Mr. Barnes take care of ya, eh?“


 (Y/N) bit their lip as they eyed all the couples dancing, trying so desperately to keep their mind off of their run in a few days prior. They had just run into one of the most dangerous thugs in all of America, the man had everyone in his pocket, he could get away with murder and no one would bat an eye and yet (Y/N) ran into him and here they were, able to tell the tale. 

   With a shaky sigh (Y/N) reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind their ear, even though it wasn’t necessary. Honestly (Y/N) was trying their best to keep busy, even the most mundane tasks would help focus (Y/N)’s mind on things other than the dark haired, mysterious thug. 

    "Hey sweetcheeks,” a rather harsh, almost smoker like voice drawls in (Y/N)’s ear, sending shivers down their spine. “I couldn’t help but notice you here all alone, how bout you get up and dance with me.” His words were poised as a question but his tone hinted otherwise. (Y/N) gulps, steeling themself against the strange man.

    “I’m sorry sir but I really don’t feel like-" 

    "It wasn’t a Question sweetheart,” he grips (Y/N)’s arm painfully tight, leaving them to whimper in pain. “Now get up or I’ll make you get up,” it was either go willingly or against their own will and (Y/N) most definitely wasn’t all too thrilled about the second idea. So with shaking legs and a trembling lip (Y/N) stood from their spot, following the sketchy looking man out to the dance floor. His strong hands settle on their waist as he yanks them close, their hips pushed flush against his. “What’s your name kid?” (Y/N) trembles on the spot as they reluctantly dance with the man, praying that someone would notice how uncomfortable they were and come out a stop to it. But no one did, they all kept their gazes elsewhere, completely ignoring (Y/N) and the man. “I asked you a question kid,” The man growls dangerously, gripping (Y/N)’s hips enough to leave bruises.

    “I-I’m (Y/N),” they stutter, fear getting the better of their voice. The man hums, a sick smile overtaking his features. 

   "Such a pretty name…you wanna know my name kid?“ 

    "N-no,” (Y/N) manages a bit of sass, almost proud of themself for being able to have such attitude towards such a man. “Not really,”

    “It’s Brock fucking Rumlow,” He leans in, biting down on their earlobe slightly, sending the poor kid shuddering in fear. 

   Brock Rumlow- one of the most notorious gangs in all of Brooklyn, perhaps in the entire state. 

   Two mobsters in the course of a week? It seemed nearly implausible and yet here (Y/N) was, still reeling from their run in with Bucky and now their contact with Brock. 

   “No sassy remarks anymore, eh?” 

   “Get off of me,” (Y/N) mutters, pushing at his chest weakly. Their lungs were still trying to recover from the harsh weather, leaving them feeling much weaker than the usually were. 

   “Aww, aren’t’chu you a cutie?” He purrs, his sickening smile never once leaving his lips. “I ought to wrap you up and take you home with me….” Brock growls as he licks his lips, his cold gaze running up and down (Y/N)’s form. “Oh sweetheart, the things I’d do to you,” 

   “I’m going to start screaming,” (Y/N) whispers, grunting against his hold. Their squirming comes to an abrupt stop when the feeling of something cool presses into their neck. 

   “Scream and I’ll slit your throat,” Brock sneers, his tone smug as he digs the point of his blade into their neck. (Y/N) whimpers softly, closing their eyes as something warm trickles down their neck, most likely leaving behind a trail of scarlet liquid. 

   “What do you want?” (Y/N) tries to sound stronger than they are but it was futile, Brock could see right through them. 

   “I just want a little fun dollface, take you back to my place, rough ya up a bit,” Brock purrs as he leans in once again, licking up the small rivulets of blood that had cascaded down (Y/N)’s neck. “Then I’m gonna send you back on your way and we’re gonna act like nothin’ happened, sound good?” (Y/N) whimpered, trying to shy away from Brock’s invading tongue to no avail, the blade kept them still, nipping at their skin in a way that had them wanting to puke. “Now, I’m gonna escort you out of here all nice and slow and you’re not gonna make a sound, got it? If you do,” Brock chuckles as she stashes his knife away. “I’m gonna make that much more painful for ya, sweetheart,” 


   Brock’s grips on (Y/N)’s arm was painfully tight, no doubt leaving finger shaped bruises in their skin. He dragged them down the streets of Brooklyn, towards the nicer area of town, to where all the rich snobs lived. No one here would care that (Y/N) was being manhandled by Brock, hell, no one in the slums even cared as they watched the tall, burly man guide the smaller human being along. Tears burned at (Y/N)’s eyes but they refused to let them fall, they had to keep some shred of dignity with this man and letting him see them cry would be the last straw. 

   “No tears huh?” Brock chuckled as he turned a corner, harshly jerking (Y/N) along with him, resulting in a few pops from their elbow. “Most of the time people are sobbing by now, begging me not to hurt them but you-” He chuckles again, shaking his head as he makes his way towards one of the nicer streets. “You’re different, maybe I really should keep ya, you seem like a firecracker,” 

   “Burn in hell,” (Y/N) growls, as they struggle a bit, pulling backwards as Brock moved forwards. Why the suddenly had fight in them now only god knows but it was there, a kindling flame of hatred and fear and dammit (Y/N) was going to use it. 

   “I suggest you stop struggling sweetheart,” Brock growls as he yanks them forward, nearly tripping them in the process. “I’m not opposed to slaughtering you right here and leaving your body to the dogs,” 

   “Let go of me!” (Y/N) yells, struggling to get away. They twisted and flailed, clawed and kicked, anything to get this man off of them but Brock was strong and he held on tightly, causing much discomfort on (Y/N)’s part. “Get off of me!” (Y/N) screamed helplessly, hoping that anyone would come to their rescue. Little did they know that just up the street there stood a man dressed to the nines, a Brazilian imported cigar hanging out of his mouth. 


   “Get off of me!’ a voice screamed down the street. Bucky looked up from his suit, a small smirk rising to his lips at their person’s frantic cry. Sounded like someone was going to get lucky tonight, maybe if he caught them in time he’d be able to join in too. Bucky chuckled as he huffed on his cigar, reveling in the high it gave him. His pristine shoes clicked down the street, creating a soft clacking against the somewhat nice pavement. It was the only other sound in the air other than the person’s screams and to be a bit morbid he was enjoying them. Call Bucky a sadist but god- that noise was like music to his ears. 

   “What the fuck did I tell you was gonna happen if you struggled, huh?” A voice growled as Bucky got closer. Bucky’s brows furrowed in confusion;  that voice sounded so familiar, he could’ve sworn that he had only heard it a few days ago- Bucky comes to an abrupt stop before the source of noise, his eyes quickly taking in the rather shocking scene. It was the kid from a few days ago, the shabby, slum kid, struggling against the grasp of some tall, wide man…

   “Brock Rumlow,” Bucky growls, a small smirk rising to his lips. “How strange to see you here,” Brock stops fighting the kid immediately, his entire body going rigid at Bucky’s voice. 

   “Barnes,” Brock smiles sickeningly, that same smile that had been twisting (Y/N)’s stomach for the last half an hour. “Fancy seeing you here,” Bucky smirks as he flicks his cigar to the ground, allowing it to burn out and die slowly. 

   “Who’s the kid?” Bucky gestures to (Y/N) with a simple quirk of his head as he stuffs his hands in his pockets. 

   “Just a lil’ something I picked up earlier,” Bucky looks at (Y/N), his harsh gaze raking over their trembling form. He regarded them with a look of prejudice, sneering down at them with an upturned nose. He hoped his look was enough to convince Brock that he had no care for this (Y/N) creature when in reality the look of fear on their face had stirred something deep within him. 

   “How much do you want for ‘em?” Bucky asks coolly, as though he wasn’t bargaining this persons life right before them. 

   “Sorry Barnes but you’re out of luck, this one’s a keeper,” 

   “I don’t think you understood me,” Bucky chuckles darkly as he reaches in his suit, retrieving a small albeit dangerous handgun. “How much do you want for ‘em?” He points the end of the barrel at Brock’s stomach, inconspicuous enough that if anyone walked by they wouldn’t think anything of it. 

   “Fuck you Barnes,” Brock growls as he shoves (Y/N) towards the brunette. Bucky was quick to steady (Y/N), incidentally pulling them to his chest. “I’ll get them back,” Brock chuckles darkly as he saunters off, shaking his head as he does. “Just you wait and see,” Bucky keeps his ground as Brock saunters off, keeping (Y/N) against his chest protectively but as soon as the other mobster was out of sight Bucky broke, his facade crumbling to the ground. 

   “You alright kid?” Bucky asks as he inspects (Y/N), checking them for any wounds of any sort. 

   “Why do you care?” (Y/N) grumbles as the bat his prying hands away, being mindful not to expose their bleeding neck to him. Bucky immediately retracts his hands, as though (Y/N)’s words had burned him. 

   “Really?” Bucky chuckles dryly, shaking his head in disbelief. “I just spared your fucking life kid and now you’re gonna give me sass? I could’ve let that bastard rape and kill ya but instead I saved ya and this is the thanks I get?” (Y/N) huffs as they brush their outfit off, as though trying to get rid of any remnant of Brock. 

   “I didn’t ask for help-” (Y/N)’s sentence cuts short when Bucky grips their chin, forcing them to look into his eyes. 

   “I own this town sweetheart, I own half the country, with a snap of my fingers I could have you beaten to a bloody pulp and left at my doorstep if I so desired,” (Y/N) glares up at Bucky indignantly, flaring their nostrils angrily. “So I suggest you stay on my good side, got it?” Bucky gave them a little cheeky grin as he stepped back, wiping some ‘dust’ off their chin before turning on his heels to saunter back home, his energy for the night gone. He knew (Y/N) was glaring at his back so he turned his head, giving them a little smirk as he pulled out a new cigar, placing it between his fingers as he spoke to them. “I’ll be seeing you real soon (Y/N),” And with that the mobster turned away, lighting his cigar as he walked back home, whistling a chirpy tune. 


@training-wolves, @joyfulinfluencermoon, @barnes-and-noble-girl, @marvel-love-marvel-life, @vanessa-monique, @skeletoresinthebasement, @logan8546, @bellejeunefillesansmerci, @almondbuttercup, @saradi1018, @softwhispers, @ficbucket, @bethabear12 (If I have forgotten to tag you please tell me so I can add you!) 

Harry put his arm up in front of me, biting down on his lip.

I groaned as I looked up at him. “What, Harry?”

“I just… want to make sure you’re okay,” he told me. “You’re very hard to read, and, okay, I’m not the best at reading people, but… I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

I kept my expression blank as I stared at him. I was hard to read? That was the fucking point, idiot.

Harry sighed, dropping his arm out of my way. But he didn’t let me pass before he said, “You know, you can always talk to me, Mase. Always. I’m a good listener. I know I talk a lot sometimes, but I will always listen.”

All I knew for sure were two things: I had a lot of thinking to do, and I hated when he called me Mase.

You Bring Me Home // Coming Soon

Mason Worton’s mum is getting married - again. 

This means Mason has a very difficult decision to make: stay in America and ditch the wedding, or go back to England and see her family and everyone else from her past, which completely defeats the whole purpose of coming to America in the first place. 

Harry Styles, much to Mason’s dismay, wants to help make the whole situation easier. 

Hate to love AU

Don’t Touch.

That’s always the first rule, isn’t it? The one that I’ve never been able to follow in my entire life. Some people call it a flaw, of course. It’s not. Sometimes, someone has to be the one to touch something, to see that it’s real.

I don’t have The Sight, of course. They’d have blinded me if I did. I have autism, and I just notice things that other people don’t. Not the Gentry, of course, although they’re as strange to me as the “normal” humans are. But I do notice the crows, the squirrels, the “cat” that stalks the paths between the dorms when night falls.

And it’s hard for someone like me not to notice a little puff adder, a stake of hawthorn through its heart (the lungs, actually; whoever inserted it put it much too low for the actual heart), lying in the patch of nightshade. It’s even harder for the exchange student from America, the kid who used to bring home the baby copperheads and put them in the dollhouse to warm up, to leave that puff adder pinned to the ground. I put it in my pocket and took it back to the dorm with me.

The prevets were the ones to actually help it, of course. I’m just an animation student, I’d never be able to do that surgery. But it lives in my dorm now, while it’s recovering. It hasn’t turned into anything yet. Maybe I did a good thing. We’ll see.

I never was good at keeping my hands to myself.

((hahahaha this is bad I am sorry))

[x]

3

Gif source:  Peter  |  Steve

Imagine being Peter Parker’s best friend and asking him to introduce you to Steve Rogers, who you have a celebrity crush on.

——— Request for anon ———

“Come on,” you whine, letting the last word resonate until it was raspy in the back of your throat as you fell back onto Peter’s bed. “Dude, we’re, like, best friends? Can’t you do this one thing for me?”

“Dude,” Peter whines back, tucking a dirty outfit into his hamper, “I can’t just bring you to meet Captain America! I mean, Mister Stark has a rule about getting all fanboy-ish on them.”

“I can totally reign myself in!” you reply, looking at your best friend with a pleading look. “I know how to be a normal person!”

“Are you sure about that?” Peter teases, making you shoot him a deadpan look until he gives in, “Alright, alright, but you have to promise not to get weird!”

“I promise!”

anonymous asked:

Hi! Have you done anything on Sally Hemings? If so, could you possibly link me? If not, do you have any information about her? I know so little about her and wish I knew more

Here you go, I wrote you a 2231 word essay on Sally Hemings. All sources come from Jefferson and Hamilton: The Rivalry That Forged a Nation and Thomas Jefferson: Art and Power. 

          1735, a man named Hemings, the white English captain of a trading ship, fathered a daughter with a “full-blooded African” woman. The African woman’s child was named Elizabeth. The mother and daughter ended up as slaves of the Eppes family- the Eppes family from which John Wayles (Thomas Jefferson’s father in law) would marry his first wife, Martha. 1746- the year Wayles married Martha Eppes- Elizabeth Hemings, then about eleven years old, moved to the Wayles property. 1761, Elizabeth was taken by John Wayles into concubine and she bore five children to him, Robert Hemings, James Hemings, Thenia Hemings, Critta Hemings an Peter Hemings. In 1773, she gave birth to a sixth child: Sarah “Sally” Hemings.

             Thomas Jefferson married Martha Wayles Skelton on New Year’s Day 1772. Martha, was a daughter of John Wayles. Through his marriage ,Jefferson acquired more slaves, later receiving Elizabeth Hemings, whose daughter, Sally, who would be born months later- was a half-sister of Martha Jefferson, after Wayles’s death. Martha Jefferson chose to keep the Hemings family together after her father’s death by bringing them onto her land. Jefferson payed a midwife to deliver Elizabeth’s son John. Nearly noon on Friday, September 6, 1782 Martha Jefferson died. Her house servants- including Elizabeth Hemings, were among those with Martha as she lay dying. In her last pledges to her husband, she told him to never marry again- Sally Hemings who was witness to this was not quite ten years old yet. Among one of the last things she did, Martha handed Sally a tiny silver servant bell as a gift.

           1784, when Thomas Jefferson accepted a position as ambassador of France, he brought with him his eldest daughter, Martha “Patsy” Jefferson, and James Hemings- son of Elizabeth Hemings and brother of Sally Hemings. Jefferson had intentions to train James to be a cook of French food. June 26th, 1787, Jefferson was able to get his daughter, Mary “Polly” Jefferson whom he’d left in the company of family along with his now deceased younger daughter Lucy Elizabeth Jefferson over to France to join him and Patsy in attempt to recreate his family. Polly arrived in London and was handed into the care of Abigail Adams, with the youngest Jefferson was Sally Hemings. “The old nurse whom you expected to have attended her was sick and unable to come, Abigail Adams wrote to Jefferson, “She has a girl about about 15 or 16 with her, the sister of the servant you have with you.” Abigail also told she is “quite like a child” and required more care than Polly- who was five year younger. She inquired about sending Sally back to Virginia.

             There are no known images of Sally Hemings. On arrival in Europe, Sally was fourteen years of age, and had very light skin, “almost white” and “very handsome, with long straight hair down her back”. There was some resemblance between Sally Hemings and Jefferson’s late wife Martha Jefferson. Abigail Adams also described Sally as, “…she seems fond of the child and appears good natured.” Polly Jefferson and Sally arrived in Paris on July 15th, 1787. She probably ran errands and served as a chambermaid as well as a seamstress. She accompanied Patsy and Polly to dances and dinners, Jefferson spent a considerable sum in 1789 on clothing for Sally. While in Dusseldorf, Jefferson found himself fascinated by a 1699 painting by the Dutch artist Adriaen van der Werff of Abraham taking the young servant Hagar to his bed. The Virginian described it as, “delicious. I would have agreed to have been Abraham though the consequence would have been that I should have been five or six thousand years.”

         Since her arrival in France, Sally had been paid some small wages- twelve livres a month for ten months. Jefferson had bought clothing for her and had her inoculated against smallpox. Sally’s day routine is less clear, though she may have served the Jefferson daughters as a maid at the convent school during part of her time in Paris. It was during the years of 1788 and 1789 that Thomas Jefferson began his sexual activity with Sally Hemings (then only fifteen or sixteen years old). The emotional content of the Jefferson-Hemings “relationship” is a mystery. Some say he loved her, and vice versa. Others argue it was coercive, institutionalized rape. If someone is your property, it is impossible for you to ask consent before sexual acts because they are “property” to you, property cannot give consent. No consent before sex is rape. All those who were slaves brought into concubine with their masters were raped- property cannot give consent because they are owned by another human being. It was not love, it was rape. Property cannot give consent. Sally Hemings might of been doing what she had to do to survive an evil system, accepting sexual duty as an element of her enslavement and using what leverage she had to improve the lot of her children.

Keep reading

Imagine telling Tony where Steve was

Part 1- Imagine seeing Bucky pull Steve from the water   

Part 2 - Imagine waiting for Steve to wake up

Part 3- Imagine being there when Steve finally talks to Bucky

Part 4- Imagine being in the car with Bucky and Sam

Part 5 - Imagine helping Steve & Bucky escape the airport

Part 6 Imagine telling Tony where Steve was

Part 7 - Imagine Steve busting you out

Part 8 Imagine finding out about Tony’s parents

Part 9 - Imagine being in Wakanda with Steve and Bucky

Keep reading