just bringing this back for america

Kilroy Was Here!

He’s engraved in stone in the National World War II Memorial in Washington, DC – back in a small alcove where very few people have seen it. For the WWII generation, this will bring back memories. For younger folks, it’s a bit of trivia that is an intrinsic part of American history and legend.

Anyone born between 1913 to about 1950, is very familiar with Kilroy. No one knew why he was so well known….but everybody seemed to get into it. It was the fad of its time!

          At the National World War II Memorial in Washington, DC

So who was Kilroy?

In 1946 the American Transit Association, through its radio program, “Speak to America,” sponsored a nationwide contest to find the real Kilroy….now a larger-than-life legend of just-ended World War II….offering a prize of a real trolley car to the person who could prove himself to be the genuine article.

Almost 40 men stepped forward to make that claim, but only James Kilroy from Halifax, Massachusetts, had credible and verifiable evidence of his identity.

“Kilroy” was a 46-year old shipyard worker during World War II (1941-1945) who worked as a quality assurance checker at the Fore River Shipyard in Quincy, Massachusetts (a major shipbuilder for the United States Navy for a century until the 1980s).  

His job was to go around and check on the number of rivets completed. (Rivets held ships together before the advent of modern welding techniques.) Riveters were on piece work wages….so they got paid by the rivet. He would count a block of rivets and put a check mark in semi-waxed lumber chalk (similar to crayon), so the rivets wouldn’t be counted more than once.

                                     A warship hull with rivets

When Kilroy went off duty, the riveters would surreptitiously erase the mark. Later, an off-shift inspector would come through and count the rivets a second time, resulting in double pay for the riveters!

One day Kilroy’s boss called him into his office. The foreman was upset about unusually high wages being “earned” by riveters, and asked him to investigate. It was then he realized what had been going on. 

The tight spaces he had to crawl in to check the rivets didn’t lend themselves to lugging around a paint can and brush, so Kilroy decided to stick with the waxy chalk. He continued to put his check mark on each job he inspected, but added KILROY WAS HERE! in king-sized letters next to the check….and eventually added the sketch of the guy with the long nose peering over the fence….and that became part of the Kilroy message.

   Kilroy’s original shipyard inspection “trademark” during World War II

Once he did that, the riveters stopped trying to wipe away his marks.

Ordinarily the rivets and chalk marks would have been covered up with paint. With World War II on in full swing, however, ships were leaving the Quincy Yard so fast that there wasn’t time to paint them. As a result, Kilroy’s inspection "trademark” was seen by thousands of servicemen who boarded the troopships the yard produced.

His message apparently rang a bell with the servicemen, because they picked it up and spread it all over the European and the Pacific war zones.

Before war’s end, “Kilroy” had been here, there, and everywhere on the long hauls to Berlin and Tokyo. 

To the troops outbound in those ships, however, he was a complete mystery; all they knew for sure was that someone named Kilroy had “been there first.” As a joke, U.S. servicemen began placing the graffiti wherever they landed, claiming it was already there when they arrived.

As World War II wore on, the legend grew. Underwater demolition teams routinely sneaked ashore on Japanese-held islands in the Pacific to map the terrain for coming invasions by U.S. troops (and thus, presumably, were the first GI’s there). On one occasion, however, they reported seeing enemy troops painting over the Kilroy logo!

Kilroy became the U.S. super-GI who had always “already been” wherever GIs went. It became a challenge to place the logo in the most unlikely places imaginable. (It is said to now be atop Mt. Everest, the Statue of Liberty, the underside of the Arc de Triomphe in Paris, and even scrawled in the dust on the moon by the American astronauts who walked there between 1969 and 1972.

In 1945, as World War II was ending, an outhouse was built for the exclusive use of Allied leaders Harry Truman, Joseph Stalin, and Winston Churchill at the Potsdam Conference. It’s first occupant was Stalin, who emerged and asked his aide (in Russian), “Who is Kilroy?”

To help prove his authenticity in 1946, James Kilroy brought along officials from the shipyard and some of the riveters. He won the trolley car….which he attached to the Kilroy home and used to provide living quarters for six of the family’s nine children….thereby solving what had become an acute housing crisis for the Kilroys.

                     The new addition to the Kilroy family home.

                                        *          *          *          *

And the tradition continues into the 21st century…

In 2011 outside the now-late-Osama Bin Laden’s hideaway house in Abbottabad, Pakistan….shortly after the al-Qaida-terrorist was killed by U.S. Navy SEALs

>>Note: The Kilroy graffiti on the southwest wall of the Bin Laden compound pictured above was real (not digitally altered with Microsoft Paint, as postulated by some). The entire compound was leveled in 2012 for redevelopment by a Pakistani company as an amusement park….and to avoid it becoming a shrine to Bin Laden’s nefarious memory.

                                         *          *          *          *

A personal note….

My Dad’s trademark signature on cards, letters and notes to my sisters and I for the first 50 or so years of our lives (until we lost him to cancer) was to add the image of “Kilroy" at the end. We kids never ceased to get a thrill out of this….even as we evolved into adulthood. 

To this day, the “Kilroy” image brings back a vivid image of my awesome Dad into my head….and my heart!

Dad: This one’s for you!

When I hear “Trump is at 35% approval rating” my first thought is not: “Well, that’s bad for Trump.” It’s “So, 35% of Americans are cult members?!”

Let’s look at this:

-He isn’t going to bring back coal mining jobs.

-He isn’t going to stand up to Wall Street or the Washington elite

-He won’t lock up Hillary

-He can’t come up with a decent healthcare plan

-The wall probably ain’t happening, either

-All he can really do these days is say offensive things about brown people, play golf, threaten nuclear war and annoy Caitlyn Jenner. 

So why are 1/3 of people still so 100% devoted to the guy? Brainwashing? Are they just stubborn?

JOINING INKTOBER THIS YEAR.
I 100% sure will not be able to draw every day, but, yeah, let’s try!
I think there’s an official prompt list… somewhere? But I’m using this list here, named “Super People” by @dropthedrawing

Today’s Prompt is “The Old Hero”. Initially, I wanted to do Old Man Cap from Earth X, but I’m just SO EXCITED about Mark Waid, @chrissamnee and Matthew Wilson bringing back the “old” Cap, I opted for a quick sketch of Steve in his old-new uniform. /shameless promotion

Media: Ball Point pen + Photoshop for the white

Also, I need to work on my style, I kinda hate it right now I wish it were more minimal and clean. 

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

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

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.

Bandai America Releasing the 2017 Tamagotchi Mini This Fall

Following in the footsteps of Bandai Japan, Bandai America is bringing the 2017 Tamagotchi Mini to the United States! We couldn’t be happier, but we must say we are not surprised. To celebrate the 20th anniversary of the original Tamagotchi here in the United States Bandai is releasing the 2017 Tamagotchi Mini and bringing Tamagotchi back to America.

Placing their bets on nostalgia Bandai America is hoping that fans that nurtured the original virtual pet in 1997 will purchase the new 2017 Tamagotchi Mini decorated in the original 6 Japanese shell designs. The 2017 Mini is identical to the one just recently released in Japan, with the ability to raise 6 characters, however the packaging is a bit different. The 2017 Mini will feature unique packaging resembling the original packaging to pay tribute to the original version released in the United States. We can definitely see ourselves purchasing more than one for our collection!

“For many Generation X kids, the Tamagotchi device can be considered America’s first and favorite digital pet,” says Tara Badie, marketing director for Bandai America.  “The enduring power of Tamagotchi is its clear expression that nurturing and love never goes out of style. It’s such an honor to bring back one of the most beloved toys in a way that captures the magic and joy of a generation while embracing the sensibilities of new generations.”

The device is definitely being marketed for its nostalgia, hoping that fans back in the 90’s and perhaps even in the early 2000’s with the Connection devices will want to relive the good old days. This definitely seems like a good approach as many millennials have been flocking to nostalgic products that have been re-released.

The 2017 Tamagotchi Mini will be available this November in the United States, pre-orders will be available starting October 10th at various North American retailers for $14.99. As retailers post their pre-orders we will definitely keep you updated!

So what do you think about Bandai America releasing the 2017 Tamagotchi Mini in the United States for the 20th anniversary? Will you be ordering it? We want to hear from you!

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.”

Keep reading

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.

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.”

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 !!


Your name: submit What is this?

“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.”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

We need a looong firs t time stony fic rec

Long fics are my favorites!  I adore a really long, thought out, slow build.  Here are a few favorites, all complete and over 100K:

Even the Light is an Illusion by Mizzy:  Death threats are an unfortunate side-effect of being Tony Stark, so he’s learned to ignore them. The problem is, when someone really wants you dead, hiding your head in the sand just kinda exposes your ass.But it’s not just Tony’s behind on the line. Whoever wants him dead wants him to suffer first, and they’re willing to do anything to make that happen. Tony knows there’s only one way out. To save Steve, the Avengers, and the general public, Tony has to die. Of course, death isn’t always the end, and Tony does what any other self-disrespecting scientist would do: he finds a way to fake his death and avenge his own murder.The trouble is, terrible decisions usually have a terrible price, and this one is no different. Tony has a chance to save the day, but the cost may be more than Tony was ever expecting to pay…

Holding Out for a Hero by @wordsplat:   When Tony was a prince and Steve was his manservant, they were young and reckless and hopelessly in love. But an attack on Tony’s life convinces Steve that he can’t protect Tony, so he leaves in the dead of night to train until he can. Ten years later, Steve returns to the kingdom a strong and able knight, but his king is both furious and broken-hearted.

Straight On Til Morning by @sineala:  Tony Stark resigned his commission in Starfleet five years ago, after a disastrous away mission, and he swore he’d never go back. He just wants to be left alone to build warp engines in peace. But the universe has more in store for him than that, as he discovers when Admiral Fury comes to him with an offer he could never have expected and cannot possibly refuse: first officer and chief engineer aboard the all-new USS Avenger, a starship of Tony’s own design. What’s more, the Avenger’s captain is Steve Rogers, hero of the Earth-Romulan War. Believed dead for over a century, Steve is miraculously alive… and very, very attractive.But nothing is ever easy for Tony. As he wrestles with his secret desire for his new captain and his not-so-dormant fears, another mission starts to go wrong, and Tony becomes aware that Steve has secrets of his own – and the truth could change everything.

Captivated by @missbeckywrites:   When Tony sustains a life-threatening injury, Steve takes him to a world where magic can heal any wound. But their happy ending swiftly becomes a nightmare when slavers attack, and Tony is captured and taken away. After months apart, they are finally reunited, but the quest to save Tony is only just beginning.

America Isn’t Chicken by @everybodyilovedies (Amuly):  After a Civil War, death, rebirth, a takeover by Osborn, brain deletion, and the fall of Asgard, Steve and Tony might just be starting to get back on solid ground with one another. Things aren’t perfect, not yet, but they can be in the same room as each other without resorting to violence, and they’ve even managed to share a smile or two.
Seems like the perfect time, then, for Tony to try and fuck it all up with a stupid game of gay chicken.Meanwhile, as if he didn’t have enough to worry about, Tony realizes some kind of supervillainous trouble is brewing when increasingly advanced armors start popping up all over Manhattan, looking strangely reminiscent of his tech. On the other side of the world, Steve gets news that Zola is on the move in Russia, with some sort of nefarious plan at work.Which will ruin them first? Will it be this unknown armored villain who is after Tony’s tech? Or will it be Zola unleashing his mysterious plan on the world? Or will Steve and Tony prove to be their own worst enemies, destroying the tentative truce they managed to forge with their own stubbornness?

The Captain and His Courtesan by @winterstar95:  A story of revolution.Captain Steve Rogers is just trying to pay off his debt to SHIELD, carting cargo from the Rim worlds to the Inner Belts in his bucket of bolts ship, the Howling Commando. He keeps a low profile and makes sure his crew is safe and happy. But the universe has a different plan for the once highly decorated Captain of the Honor Guard. The universe drops a Courtesan by the name of Tony Stark into his life. The Captain doesn’t like it, but Bucky convinces him that providing transport to the most elusive Courtesan in the Guild could be their ticket to freedom. His crew from the engineer with anger management issues to the pilot who may be a beautiful but deadly assassin wants him to take the commission. What ends up being a simple commission puts his crew in jeopardy and could change all of humanity, because the Courtesan is not really just a pretty face and the Captain of the Honor Guard can fall in love far too easily with a man of conviction - and Tony Stark is a man of conviction.

Unwritten Endings by @xtaticpearl:   Tony takes the bullet meant for Captain America at the end of their war and through his death, brings together the team again. Only, he isn’t really dead and when he comes back, the equations between the team-mates begin to alter and reform, writing a new story altogether.

Double Time by @sineala:   Cassino, Italy, December 1943. Special Agent Tony Stark, former Marvels adventurer, is sent to investigate a Cosmic Cube found by the Invaders – and it’s the perfect opportunity for him to rekindle his secret romance with Steve Rogers. But when Hydra attempts to steal the Cube, an inadvertent wish for help leads to the appearance of a Tony from the future of another world: Director Stark of SHIELD. This Tony is a man with a lot on his mind. He refuses to tell them anything about the future, but he seems to know much more than he should about Captain America. And something’s happened that’s clearly killing him inside, but he’s not talking. When Director Stark’s failed attempt to return home leads to the unexpected appearance of another visitor from his universe, all the lies come undone. Now there are two wars to fight, and the second one could ruin all of them.

The Single Biggest Problem with Communication by @blossomsinthemist:   In the wake of Steve’s return from the dead and the end of Norman Osborn’s reign of terror, the superhero community is recovering–Steve has taken on a new role and Tony is trying to put his life back together. Things are still awkward between them, but they’re determined to put things to rights. But when a discussion about their feelings leads to further misunderstandings, they discover that might be more difficult than either of them realized. Set in the early Heroic Age after the end of Dark Reign, this is a get-together story about crossed wires–and second chances.

www.stem.org by @emeraldine087:  Steve Rogers and Tony Stark live in the Avengers Tower with the rest of the team but they may as well be living in different planets for all the things they can’t seem to see eye to eye on. Steve has deep seated misconceptions about Tony, and really, Tony just thinks Steve is a dick. They may work well in the field together, but as far as their personal dealings with each other go, they don’t know jack shit about one another.STEM is an unexpected Internet phenomenon–it’s Facebook, YouTube, Twitter, eBay, Goodreads, Skype and Amazon all rolled into one. And all the Avengers are in it with Steve being the most recent one to join. And Steve is just starting to really get into it, too especially after meeting heir2mecha.realm who is an amazing conversationalist–witty, smart, mysterious and remarkably thoughtful, and Steve can’t help but trust him.But is Steve ready to discover the man behind the mystery? Or will his misconceptions smother what feeble fire has been ignited between two people who have more to offer each other than what they’re prepared to admit?

And, since I love nothing more than to write tons of words just to get two idiots together, may I self-rec my long fics:  Celestial Navigation, Catching Lightning in a Bottle, A Higher Form of War.

Something I really miss about Europe that we don’t have at all in America is that every once in a while you’ll see something that really brings you back to what it must have been like hundreds of years ago.  Like you’ll see a monk walking into a church, and monks have walked into that same church for hundreds of years; or a horse on the street (even if it’s for tourists), and horses were once here instead of cars … and of course maybe you’ll see a horse in central park or a priest at some church in Manhattan but it’s just not the same and I really miss that.

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.

Not His Girl

Originally posted by buckypupbarnes

Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Reader helped Bucky out during his time in Wakanda, later on Steve meets Reader and starts falling for her.

Word Count: 2091


Y/N L/N is Tony Stark’s assistant; she helps him, Pepper and Dr. Banner with whatever they needed. She would run to go get coffee for the two science bro’s, make copies for Pepper, to all the way with help calm down Bruce from hulking out. Occasionally she would be allowed to use Tony’s lab for her own personal use. Just like Tony, Y/N was big in technology and science, whenever Bruce wasn’t there to help Tony and Y/N was; he would always go to her. She was always there for them and just as they were for her. But some things had to be kept secret but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t become uncovered.

During the happening of the Winter Soldier, all the files were released, even yours when you had worked for them a decade ago. Tony instantly asked you about it, wanted to know everything about it but from you, not some papers or a file. So you explained everything to him. How you created your own tech to rob stores to make a living. To how S.H.I.E.L.D found out about you and had asked you to join the agency. How you stole Intel and technology for them from Hydra and other enemies. To how you ended it when you had almost lost your life on a mission when S.H.I.E.L.D hadn’t given you the full truth. You explained and he listened, by the end of the day, you still had a job to go to the next day.

Keep reading

Caught Up (steve rogers drabble)

Originally posted by bluebrooklynkid

Summary: a day of baking turns into a day of hiding from the government.

Word Count: 700

Warnings: a few swears, a smidgen of fluff if you squint, a worried Steve

Read on A03!


A knock came at your apartment door as you were whistling a soft tune, placing a fresh warm tray of cookies on your counter. You don’t know what you were expecting in front of your door- but a beaten and battered Steve Rogers wasn’t in the top three thoughts, that’s for certain.

“Steve-” you cut off as he pushed passed you and marched in, gun pointed out in front of him, eyes alert with alarm.

“Are you alone?” He demanded, still swiping his gun from side to side.

“Steve, what the fuck is going on?” You called out, hot on his heels as he walked into your bedroom, tearing into your closet, throwing clothes off the hangers frantically.

“You’re being watched by the government.” He mumbled, hardly above a whisper, had you been another foot behind him, you never would have caught it. He proceeded to swipe along the shelf in your closet before cruising under his breath and strutting over to the bedside table and examine the drawer.

“Excuse me?” You gripped onto his broad shoulder and forced him to face you as he was crouched on the floor, one hand inside the drawer, annoyed expression plastered to his face.

Keep reading

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

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!) 

A Sniper, A Soldier, and a Fangirl: Part 5

Prompt: Sometimes life sucked. You’d found that out early in life. An embarrassing incident here, an anxiety attack there, and voila an introvert was born. And to be completely honest you were okay with that fact. Being introverted was not a bad thing, it allowed you time to do the important things like, obsess over fictional characters, or write, or work, or study, or geek out in general. It was a simple life, but it was a good life. THen the impossible happened, you got sucked into a fictional world that wasn’t actually fictional, and found out two of your favorite characters were your soulmates. You weren’t sure if you were lucky, or just crazy.

AN: So for the sake of this plot I’m following the movies not the comics, because it makes my life easier. Also time/ story lines are about to go askew, so prepare yourself! Basically I’m playing puppet master with the Marvel Cinematic Universe.

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Reader X Clint Barton X Steve Rogers

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4


You were far from an expert on relationships. In fact, you’d actively avoided them for a good portion of your life. You’d seen what a broken heart and rushed relationship had done to more than one of your friends and you’d quickly said “No thank you” until you were out of college. The few dates you’d had since graduating had been filled with men who weren’t the greatest, and had you seriously wondering if there was a flood in your future.

    Despite all this, and the reading you’d done since coming to this world, you figured soulmates didn’t spend large amounts of time away from each other. The night after your shopping trip had led to a strained silence between the three of you, and a recently discovered Hydra Base had led to Steve and Clint both being called into action, despite directive three subsection C.

    You’d sent them off with a smile, and a “Be safe.” They’d smiled at that, and so had you. Four days later had found you neck deep in soul mate research, and the more you read, the more comfortable with the idea you became.

    Science wasn’t a hundred percent sure what caused the marks. It could be biological. It could be chemical. Some theorized magic. Either way, when you touched your soulmate, your mark appeared. It was preceded by a burning sensation, because it was in many ways a brand. Religion theorized that a bit of pain for something so glorious was needed.

    You also found that triads like yours, while not common, weren’t exactly rare. There was little prejudice to be faced, and from some of the online threads you’d read triads were typically made of a stronger bond. There’d even been instances of the marks changing and adapting alongside the relationship.

    You have about twenty tabs on Clint’s laptop open, doing further reading when, the knock comes on your door. You leave the laptop behind to find Natasha standing there. Her mouth is set in a firm line when she says, “Clint’s been injured, we need to go.”

    You stand there for three seconds before turning and grabbing clothes. You change in the bathroom, and when you come out it’s to find Natasha sitting on the bed. She has a bag next to her, and you realize she’s packed clothes for you. Neither of you says anything as you walk onto the quinjet.

    The ride is a quick one, no more than thirty minutes. But the pit in your stomach makes you want to throw up. You’d known Clint for all of a week, but the idea of losing him or Steve sends waves of nausea over you.

    Natasha’s voice is soft, “It’s strengthening.” You stare at her, and she gives a small smile as she clarifies, “The bond. I mean. Steve nearly went ballistic when I called out that Clint was hit. I’ve never seen him lose his cool like that.”

    You scrub your hands over your face, “I’ve known them a week.”

    She smirks, “Imagine what happens when you seal the bond.”

    You blush, sealing the bond included sex. By sealing the bond you were pledging yourself to your soulmate. In some cases mental connections were made, in others you could feel each other’s pain. You’d stop reading after that, your cheeks had been blushing after reading a thread about it.

    When the plane docks, you follow Nat off of it and into what is clearly Stark Tower. When you get inside you can hear a distinctly feminine voice say, “Even your girlfriend won’t notice the difference, Agent Barton.”

    A second later he replies, “I don’t have a girlfriend, I have something better, two soulmates.”

    “Lucky you.”

    At the sound of his voice you feel your body sag in relief, before pushing forward. He smiles when he sees you, and you smile back. You slide into the seat next to the table, and take his hand. You squeeze it tight, and make sure to keep your breathing even.

    He pulls your hand to his lips, kisses it and says, “I’m okay. I’ve had worse.”

    Your eyes narrow, “That doesn’t make me feel better.”

    He squeezes your hand back as the doctor smiles at the two of you, “One of the soulmates?”

    You nod, and give a small smile, as she makes her way to a machine on the other side of the room. After a minute you ask, “How did this happen?”

    He grunts, before saying, “An unknown enhanced entered the field. A kid, more of a punk really, but …”

    You still, “And this happened in Sokovia?”

    He stares at you, “How did you …” and then it dawns on him, “Did this …”

    You nod, “But not exactly this.”

    You watch as he slips into agent mode, “What was different?”

    You mind struggles for the details, “Um you were married, with two kids and one on the way.”

    He laughs, “Well obviously that’s different.”

    “You didn’t have the base in upstate New York yet. That’s supposed to come after.”

    “A minor difference.”

    “There was no more SHIELD.”

    His eyes narrow, “What?”

    “It’s still around then?”

    He nods, “And going strong. Why was it taken down.”

    You shake your head, “Not here.”

    He nods. There’s a moment of silence before he asks, “Is something bad about to happen?”

    You tell him the truth, “I can’t say for sure. But if major events are going to be the same, it’s not going to be good Clint.”

    He nods, and at the look of worry in your eyes, one of his hands slip to the back of your neck, and pull you down to his eye level, “It’s going to be okay. But you need to find Steve, get him sequestered. Make sure no one is listening in, and tell him the whole story. If we can stop this before it starts …” You nod, and he smiles, “Y/N, sweetheart, it’s going to be okay.”

    You nod, and then you do something impulsive, you kiss him. It’s slow and sweet, and when you pull back Clint’s smiling, and the doctor is frowning. He kisses you one more time before saying, “We’ll pick this up later.”

    You simply nod, and go to find Steve. It takes a bit of maneuvering, running around different floors, and when you find him, he’s in the command center. He smiles at the sight of you before he notices you’re out of breath. In three long strides he’s beside you. “Y/N?”

    “We need to talk, now. Privately.” He nods once before taking your arm, and leading you out of the command center and down the hall. A small part of you wants to laugh when he leads you into a broom closet. You’re pressed up against each other, and he smiles and explains, “There are no cameras or microphones in here.”

You nod, and asks, “Are you okay? Is it Clint, because Doctor Cho assured me that…”

You shake your head, “It’s not that.” Very quickly you run over the same details you’d

done with Clint before asking, “Was there ever an assassination attempt on Fury?”

“Not recently.”

“Have you ever heard of Project Insight?”

“No. Y/N . .” He stops when he sees how pale you are, “Is it that bad?”

You decide the blunt way is the best way, “Only if you consider Hydra secretly rebuilding

inside of SHIELD, and a fleet of heli carriers that can take out any potential threat dangerous.”

Steve stills, “We’re going to need Tony. See if he can hack SHIELD and see if the project is happening here. From there we can confront Fury and address the HYDRA aspect.”

You nod, before asking, “Did Agent Phil Coulson die?” He stares at you, before nodding slowly. You nod once, “He may not be as dead as you think.”

You watch Steve scrub his hands over his face, before looking down at you, “You did good.”

You smile, “I’m no Captain America.”

He smiles back, “You’re better as far as I’m concerned.”

And with that you snake a hand around his neck, and bring his lips down to yours. When you pull back you say, “Just because the shit is about to hit the fan, doesn’t mean the good memories should stop.”

“That is a really good memory.”

You kiss him one more time and say, “Good. And just so you know. I am a complete wimp and I don’t handle pressure well.”

He just laughs and pulls you into a hug, “Well you’re my wimp.”

“And I’m happy to be so.”