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Request: If your doing requests I have a Steve thing that came into mind. It’s pretty much just smut, inspired by lyrics from the song ‘tied down - James young’. Specifically “So please can I be selfish with your body, cause I don’t think I can share you with nobody” and “When I have you, I’m gonna brand you with my lips, so all of the world will know that your mine now”. -however you want it is fine with me :) -also sorry for bothering you :E I just couldn’t resist 

Words: 3,973

A/N: Smut warning. I also haven’t had the chance to edit I’m sorry

Originally posted by urmychilicheesecake

“Y/N!” You ignored Steve yelling at you through the earpiece. Grabbing the gun off one of the Hydra agents, you checked to make sure there were enough bullets to get through the next hallway. Four bullets.

“Y/N there are too many agents in that room, forget the extra intel we got what we needed,” Steve spoke through sternly again. You ignored him once again, holding the gun up, finger on the trigger, ready to fire at any given moment.

“Sorry Cap, we can’t just walk away when we know there’s more information that we could use.” You whispered through the earpiece. You rounded the corner, gun aimed high, shooting once, effectively taking out two Hydra agents that were rounding the corner together. One would think not to walk right behind the other.

“Y/N. Get out of there and start heading for the Quinjet. Now.” You rolled your eyes. You continued making turned until you found the door that led to the information you were looking for. You jiggled the doorknob, hoping that there was a small chance that it wasn’t going to be locked. You backed away from the door, contemplating whether or not you were going to shoot the lock and fight however many people were in there with two bullets or walk away like you were told. You raised your gun, thinking to hell with it, before shooting the lock once and kicking the door open, gun still raised. To your surprise, the room was empty. You rushed to one of the computers, inserting a flash drive before hurriedly tapping away on the computer.

“I thought I told you to go to the Quinjet.” You turned around, holding the gun up out of instinct, caught off guard by how quiet Steve had been. There were deep frown lines on the edges of his mouth, his usual bright baby blues that typically reminded you of the sky on a sunny day were now a dark navy blue that reminded you of the deepest edges of the ocean. You swallowed, the tension in the room growing thick. Your heartbeat rose, waiting for him to yell at you. You watched as he tightened and untightened his jaw, something you know he did when he was annoyed. His broad chest rose and fell so lightly that if you hadn’t been studying him so closely you would think that he wasn’t breathing. His hands were in fists, knuckles white that you could only imagine were from how hard he was digging his nails into his palm. You didn’t know what to say.

You heard the computer beeping, you turned your attention from the very angry looking super soldier to the Hydra computer. You read the big green letters that popped on the screen.

Transfer complete

You let yourself smile a little bit, ejecting the flash drive before turning around to face Steve again. His eyes kept burning holes into you.

“Are you just going to stand there and stare at me or are we going to head back to the Quinjet?” You asked, praying to whoever was listening that didn’t sound as snappy as it sounded. He turned around stalking out of the room cautiously.

You trailed behind him, looking behind you to see one agent rounding the corner. You raised your gun and shot them in the arms, not lethal but definitely enough to knock them out. You looked forward again, hearing grunts and punches landing. You rounded the corner, hoping that it wasn’t Steve who was receiving such painful sounding punches. You felt your body relax when he saw that he had taken out six agents. He may have been a good fighter but he wasn’t perfect. When he turned around he avoided eye contact, but you saw the gash on his right shoulder. He kicked his foot down, causing the shield to fly up and allowing his arm to grab it before ordering you to follow him.

You started to move but one of the agents that were lying on the ground cocked his gun and aimed it at you. You froze, staring at his bloodied mouth curl up, watching his finger move slowly towards the trigger before hearing him fire. You closed your eyes and flinched, waiting to feel the bullet pierce through your skin. You opened one eye, looking at the wall to your right and seeing a very familiar shield wedged into the wall. You looked over to where the agent was lying, seeing him shot dead. Steve was at the other end of the hallway, eyes trained on the agent, a gun pointed at the dead body. You let out a breath that you didn’t even know you were holding, tears pricking your eyes. You swallowed again, blinking away the tears. You grabbed the shield, following him out of the building.

You raced to get on the plane, feeling it begin to take off once the both of you were on it. Steve had his back to you. You looked down to see the shield in your hands. Your fingers traced over the scratch marks and a fresh bullet mark on it. The black spot was warm, it caused a cold shiver to travel up your spine, thinking about what could have happened if the shield wasn’t there. If Steve wasn’t there. You turned and started walking deeper into the plane, looking for Steve. You saw Natasha and Agent Hill by Tony who was flying the plane. You kept walking towards the emergency medical wing, spotting Steve going through the cabinets in the room. You knocked gently on the door, catching his attention. He opened the door, looking at you silently before his eyes trailed to his shield. You handed him his beloved armor.

“Thank you.” You said quietly. You looked up at him again and saw that his fingers were tracing the same bullet mark that you were minutes ago.

“You’re not coming on our next mission.”  He said harshly, catching you by surprise. You blinked a few times, processing the words that just came out of his mouth.

“What?” You asked, more to yourself than him.

“You’re off the next mission.” He turned around again, setting the shield down by the door, looking through the drawers.

“You can’t do that!” You argued, angry that he thought he could control you and tell you what to do. He ignored your protest, eyes scanning the labels on the many bottles he had taken out.

“I’m going on the next mission whether you liked it or not. There is no reason for me to be taken off of it.” At your words Steve snapped his head towards you, standing up to his full height.

“You’re off the next three missions.”

“You can’t do that!” You exclaimed again, throwing your hands up in anger.

“I just did.” He muttered, pushing past you. You followed behind him, refusing to let this go by.

Keep reading


“Light and Dark, Love and Hate,

“They’re two sides of the same coin.”

Wow angst. Why do I draw this crap?? Alright alright, so, my friend who sits next to me in math really wanted to see me draw some sad stuff in my sketchbook and I was like; “Aw sure, why not” MISTAKE very bad mistake. I cried drawing this and people thought that I was crazy because I kept on crying and laughing. I don’t even know why I was laughing ok. I used a mechanical pencil and copic markers/copic multiliner to draw/color/ink this garbage. I only inked the colored ones btw. AND, the little scribble with the date next to it is the signature that I use in my sketchbooks

For You, A House of Cards

Originally posted by minyoongiaesthetic

It was 5:30 AM. A loud crack of thunder had woken you up.

You didn’t jump awake but a tiny nervousness began to build inside your stomach. It had been meaning to rain for a few days now. The thunder rolled for hours each day but eventually it calmed and now, during your sleep, it decided to come back roaring.

Within seconds lighting flashed across the sky and the rain began to pour. You watched through the blinds for a moment and then rolled around in bed wondering how it was possible for him to stay asleep.

He wasn’t.

Yoongi wasn’t even in bed. You yawned and got up, then turned on the flashlight from your phone to walk through the dark house in search of him.

Now you were really scared because if the thunder were to crack suddenly and loudly again, it would most likely take you by surprise.

As you walked down the stairs, the lightning provided some creepy visibility to the house. You just hoped that the thunder would remain quiet for just a moment. Until you could find him.

He was in the kitchen, hovering over the counter and making coffee. He saw you come in and your eyes met.

“I was making tea so in case you woke up. It should calm down your nerves.” He took a sip from his mug. It probably cost ten dollars more than you would have paid for.

“I’m not scared, the storm just woke me up. I never heard thunder so loud before.”

Suddenly the thunder and lighting roared through the sky again simultaneously, making you take quick steps towards him but you didn’t touch him as you looked towards the windows much too large for your liking.

You didn’t want to be too clingy and lose your dignity. 

Instead, he pulled you towards him as he turned his attention back towards the brewing tea but he lazily wrapped your arms around him.

“I’m not scared.” You repeated, hugging him from behind.

“The entire day you were nervous about the thunder. Now it really hits and you don’t want to admit that you’re scared? I kind of wanted to hold you until you weren’t scared anymore.” He surprisingly admitted.

“I’m scared Yoongi.” You said quietly.

He took your hand and pulled you back upstairs towards the bedroom.

You tucked yourself into him and he kissed your forehead, letting his arm serve as your pillow.

“Go to sleep. This is just one of many storms we’ll have to go through.” He said, taking a deep breath.

You held onto his hand and closed your eyes. It felt so good being in his arms.

 There was something crazy about feeling this happy. Especially since this wasn’t your house, your room, your bed…or his.

Keep reading

are-you-sure-its-me-you-see  asked:

Hey, I love your blog and the things you write. Do you think you could do headcannons for the RFA + V and Serran finding MC's anti-depressants? Thanks so much in advance if you do.

Awww thank you so much for your kind words! I appreciate your patience since I really wanted to do this request justice! Thank you very much for the request and I hope that you enjoy!! ^^


  • You and Yoosung were doing some spring cleaning one day when the two of you had a free day
  • Yoosung was in charge of the kitchen and while he was going through the medicine cabinet, he found some strange pills that looked like something he’s never seen before
  • His eyes widened when he read the label saying that it was prescribed to you and that they’re anti-depressants
  • Without warning while you were dusting some shelves, Yoosung tackled you with a hug that forced both of you to the floor
  • Yoosung cradled your head to his neck, his tears streaming down his rosy cheeks but he somehow managed to talk to you
  • “I’m so sorry MC but I found your anti-depressants. I know that life can be tough and it may seem like you’re all alone, but please never forget that you aren’t! I’ll always be here for you through thick and thin. I want you to know that I love you and that you can fight your depression with me at your side!”
  • The two of you sat on the floor, both of you in tears as you held each other while Yoosung told you how much he loved you and how strong you are
  • Yoosung then picked you up and took you to the bedroom where the two of you spent the rest of the night talking about everything and cuddling the night away


  • After a long day at rehearsals, Zen was more then ready to come home and spend the rest of the evening with you
  • It had been an extremely long day for him, so much so that he developed an aching headache
  • So when Zen reached your home and went to grab some medicine, an unknown bottle fell to the floor
  • When he picked it up, his heart sunk when it read that they were your anti-depressants
  • Zen rushed to your shared bedroom, with you getting ready for bed, but instead Zen sat on the bed and pulled you onto his lap as he littered your face with kisses and kind words
  • “I love you so much MC. I want you to know that I accidentally found your anti-depressant pills but that will never stop me from loving you. I’m going to be there with you every step of the way until we beat your depression. But until then, know that I’m completely, utterly, and madly in love with you.”
  • Those kindhearted words were enough to set your tears flowing, feeling a great relief knowing that Zen knew the truth
  • That night you fell asleep to the sound of Zen singing as he held your hand, vowing to help you overcome your depression together


  • Jaehee was on the hunt to find the perfect ingredients to make the perfect cup of coffee with you waiting as her taste tester
  • She was searching through the cabinets to find that one perfect thing to add to the coffee
  • As Jaehee was looking, she noticed a medicine bottle pushed in the back corner of the cabinet
  • She grabbed it and slowly read the label, saying that it was your anti-depressants
  • Jaehee felt her stomach drop as she made her way over to you, taking hold of both of your hands as she gave you a swift kiss and plenty of caring words
  • “Please forgive me but I accidentally found your anti-depressants MC. I’ve never known anyone with depression but know that I’m going to be right here with you. We’re going to overcome this together, we’ll judo kick it away! A-anyways know that I love you and having depression won’t change that.”
  • Jaehee smiled gently as she kissed both of your hands and gave you a warm hug
  • You and Jaehee spent the rest of the night talking about your struggles while she listened intently, giving you words of encouragement and love as she held you close to her


  • You and Jumin were having a small party for Elizabeth the Third’s birthday
  • He opened the finest bottle of wine available so the two of you quickly ran out and since you both weren’t drunk yet, Jumin went to get more
  • As he scoured through the kitchen to find more wine, he stumbled across the medicine cabinet and saw a bottle he’s never seen before
  • His eyes quickly scanned the label, saying it’s contents had anti-depressants prescribed to you
  • Jumin was at your side in an instant, sitting next to you on the couch as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder and leaned you into his chest as he said sweet words to you
  • “I found your anti-depressants MC. I’m so sorry for not realizing soon about it, you make me so happy so I just assumed that you were too and that was foolish of me. I’ll do absolute anything to help you get better MC, just name it. But always remember that my love for you never falters and I want to spend every second of my life with you.”
  • Jumin kissed the top of your head as you cried into his chest, with him soothingly rubbing your arm
  • The night was spent cuddling with Jumin and Elizabeth the Third as he would kiss you all over, telling you how much he cherished and adored you


  • You came down with a cold one morning so it was up to Nurse Seven to take care of you
  • Once he had you laying in bed, Seven went to fetch some medicine from the cabinet
  • While searching, he saw a bottle of familiar looking pills and as he read the label, he saw that they were your anti-depressant pills
  • Seven felt as if the world was spinning but he burst through the bedroom door, with you looking up groggily at him and were met with a tight embrace
  • You felt Seven’s tears land on your shoulder as he held on to you tightly, telling you the words that you needed to hear
  • “MC, I found your anti-depressants. I know what it’s like, I use to take those pills too before you came into my life. You saved me from my depression so I’m going to save you from yours. I’m going to make you smile so much that you’ll completely forget about your depression! I love you to the moon and back MC, never forget that.”
  • Not caring if he caught your cold, Seven locked his lips with yours, sealing his promise with a sweet yet sad kiss that made you cry as well
  • Seven kept true to his promise, you were smiling and laughing more then you had in a long time, this boy would help you overcome your depression no matter what


  • V had noticed you were a bit off the past couple of days, greatly concerning him
  • You seemed to put on a fake smile and he would hear you crying when he’d come home late at night from work
  • One night when V was looking for his eye drops, he found a bottle of pills that he’s never seen before
  • Squinting so he could read the label, V’s fear became true when he saw that they were your anti-depressants
  • V calmly walked over to the bedroom to find you reading a book and slowly snuggled himself into bed with you
  • He gently kissed your forehead and rubbed his nose against yours as he told you warming words of love
  • “When I was looking for my eye drops, I found your anti-depressants MC. Please know that I’ll always remain with you because I love you. I promise to help you get through this, I’ll do absolutely anything to help you with your recovery my dear. You make me so happy and feel loved so I vow to make you always feel the way I do.”
  • Hearing V’s sincere words of loved caused you to start crying as he held you close to his chest, listening to his heartbeat to calm you down
  • You and V worked together to help battle your depression, with V constantly reminding you how much he loves you


  • Saeran would be eternally grateful for all that you’ve done to help him with his recovery process
  • Even though it was hard for him to express it, he genuinely loved having you by his side and he’d do anything for you
  • So when the two of you were having a movie night, he went to get some ice cream and while looking for some sprinkles, he saw a bottle of pills in the back of the cabinet
  • Saeran cautiously took the bottle and covered his mouth in shock when he read that they were your anti-depressant pills
  • Without warning, Saeran picked you up and took you to the bedroom, wrapping the two of you in a blanket and whispered loving words to you
  • “Listen, I found your anti-depressants MC. They were… next to mine. I don’t want you to feel depressed, I know how much it sucks. So we’re going to work together to beat both of our depressions alright? I know I don’t say it enough but I love you MC.“
  • Saeran wrapped a protective arm around you as you cried into his chest, but feeling his warmth made you feel safe and secure
  • You and Saeran spent the rest of the night talking about what made the two of you happy, falling asleep in each other’s arms with both of you smiling
Extreme Measures

Anon Requested:  I’m a little confused, are drabble requests open? If they are can I get a Yoongi one with #73 and #99 please? Sorry if requests are closed

Drabbles are currently open :) (I know you sent this a while ago but the requests were open then too ) I tried this in First Person POV instead of Second for once so I hope you like this! Feel free to give me criticism :) Good, Bad, Any criticism is good criticism! 

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Warnings: Insecurities, weight problems, body issues, self hate, depression, slight mentioning of an eating disorder

Word Count: 1770

“Show me what’s behind your back.”

“I can’t stand seeing you like this.”

There’s nothing tragically beautiful about depression, the fools who believe it is haven’t truly had depression in their lives. It’s not sad songs and poetry, shy glances or drowning in the bath. It’s not ghostly white skin tainted by charcoal circles under sad eyes and large purple bruises stretching viciously up your arms. It isn’t lonely walks, vacant coffee shops or smoking dusty cigarettes.

Depression is unwashed clothes and flaking skin. It’s over eating and the inability to even get out of bed and then hating yourself for eating too much and not doing anything that day. It’s giving up on yourself and not taking pride in your appearance anymore because when you feel like this who do you really have to impress? You don’t care about relationships, you don’t care if you’re late to work or end up getting kicked out of school. You just don’t care anymore. Its empty inboxes, bursts of anger and late night tears. It’s a feeling of disgust within yourself that makes you want to tear off your own skin just so you can feel clean because you feel like you’re the lowest and filthiest piece of scum there is in the world. Its uncertainty and confusion. It's losing weight, long showers and greasy hair or even gaining weight, not showering and feeling awful. It’s trying to starve yourself to lose the weight and the only way to stop yourself from eating is to sleep. It’s constantly wishing you could be somewhere or someone else. It's losing the will to even live.

Depression is not tragically beautiful, it’s just tragic.

Sometimes I feel like there is something eating me up from the inside, as if my conscience is telling me I’m not good enough. It’s probably right, I’m not good enough for myself let alone my boyfriend, but I try and be the girlfriend he deserves, the one who isn’t too heavy, the one who has a flat stomach and toned legs and the one that every guy wants to be with. Every day I plaster my face with makeup, wear loose clothes and fake a smile; but some days I can’t take it anymore. I miss dinner one day and then again and again and after one fateful day of passing out at work and Yoongi having to come get me I realized there were other ways to do this. Better ways than starving myself.

I’ve tried it all, I’ve tried working out and I didn’t see the results after a month so I gave up on that. I’ve tried starving myself and well…we all know how that turned out. I even tried making myself throw up, disgusting I know but I ended up cutting that out when Yoongi had to force me to the doctors because he assumed I had a bun in the oven. I had to just tell the doctor I had food poisoning just so he wouldn’t get suspicious.

But now here we are! My latest and most fulfilling way to lose weight, pills. Some pills work wonders if you have enough money for it, thankfully my family has always been on the wealthier side so I’ve always had enough to get me by and then some.

The pills were never a problem for me, within two weeks I shed fifteen pounds just like that, no exercising necessary and no more throwing up. It was just hard to take the pills whenever Yoongi was home, this is the longest break he’s had since he finished tour and of course he wants to spend time with me, I’m not making that out to be a bad thing but the pills are what’s most important.

I end up having to sneak away for a few minutes just to go to the bathroom to take the pills. I take them three times a day and thirty minutes before I eat, though the only thing I ever eat is maybe half a banana and if I’m feeling a tad bit more snackish maybe a cup of ramen.

Closing the bathroom door quietly I opened the medicine cabinet and pulled out the cylinder shaped pill bottle labeled ‘ibuprofen’ I had it mislabeled so just in case Yoongi finds it and looks up the actual pill name he doesn’t freak out. The cap came off easily and I easily took two pills out. 6 pills a day. That’s not really a lot if you think about it, besides, there are people that are addicted to painkillers and all I’m doing is taking pills to lose weight, weight that I feel like I don’t need. That’s perfectly normal, that’s-

“What are you doing?”

Shooting my head up to stare at the mirror I saw Yoongi, his eyes were on my hands and I instantly turned to him, pills in hands and pill bottle still on the counter, my hands were behind my back but I knew he could see the pill bottle in the mirror. “Show me what’s behind your back.”

“It’s nothing.” A smile appeared on my face, I was usually pretty good at lying, lying to Yoongi was a lot harder for me though, I always regretted lying to him about if I was fine or not but some things just didn’t need to be brought to his attention, he had enough stress on his plate my weight problems didn’t need to be one of them.

Yoongi didn’t fall for my smile, he instantly took a step closer and I took a step back, but only to find me pushing myself against the sink counter. His eyes narrowed and his hand gripped my arm yanking me towards him. A small yelp left my lips from the sudden physicality but my hands still stayed behind my back, hands squeezing tighter so he wouldn’t see the pills. “(Y/N). Show me.” He growled, his voice growing deeper as his eyes stared into my eyes with something I’ve never seen before. All I could do was shake my head at him refusing to show him the pills. I couldn’t, it’d break him inside. (Y/N)-”

“No!” I cried, tears soon filling up my eyes before I let them fall with a blink. “I-I can’t. Just go out of the bathroom and pretend you didn’t see anything then everything will be fine.”

Yoongi looked at me incredulously, his eyes slightly widening from my outburst but the seriousness came back almost instantly. “Just show me what’s behind your back.” His eyes flickered to the mirror again and saw the pill bottle, with a light and simple shove I was pushed to the side and Yoongi grabbed the opened bottle and grasped it in his hands. His eyes scanned the label and before I could even react he dumped the whole bottle in the toilet and flushed them down.

I stood on the brink of something I couldn’t describe. The weight of everything seemed to press down on my shoulders and I struggled to take even a single step forward. It was too much. All of it. And somehow, I kept moving. But every step cost me. The darkness grew darker; the pain grew sharper; all of it seemed to only grow in strength and I began to wonder if things could ever get better. The pills were gone, the only thing that seemed to give me hope and happiness on being the perfect girlfriend was now gone and flushed down the toilet.

Only once it resonated with me that they were gone did I finally break down, and I don’t mean I cried, I was now angry, angry with him for flushing down my hope, angry at him for not even noticing how sad I was, but most of all I was angry with myself. I pushed him back, his back hitting the bathroom wall and a screech of my voice coming at and colliding with his eardrums. “How could you!” My hands came back again to push him but they were only caught in his hands. His hands tightened around my wrists and quickly walked forward backing me up against the wall opposite to him. “Do you think I’m stupid? Do you really think I haven’t noticed how much you’ve changed? God, I can’t stand seeing you like this!” Yoongi’s hands only tightened as he got more frustrated. “You know I was waiting for you to tell me. I thought we’ve been together long enough that when you’re hurting you could tell me.” His eyes bored into mine and his hands tightened even more now to the point of hurting. “You’re hurting me.” My voice was small, quiet and frail but he heard me none the less. His hands still stayed around my wrists but loosened up a tremendous amount. I looked up at him but his eyes were now squeezed shut and his head was hanging low. I didn’t know what was going on in his head, how could I know? He knew what I was doing this whole time, I only kept it a secret because I knew it would tear him up inside, but in reality he had to suffer alone and silently waiting for me to come clean to him. “I’m sorry.” My voice picked up in pitch but it was more of a whisper still.

Yoongi never opened his eyes or raised his head. His hands dropped from my wrists and hung by his sides. “I- I should’ve-”

“Talk to me (Y/N). Just talk to me when you’re depressed, don’t worry about how I’m going to feel.”


“No buts, I have been going out of my freaking mind seeing you like this and I could barely stand let alone watch you do this to yourself.” Yoongi’s hands now came up to my face cupping my cheeks in his hands.

“How long?” You whispered knowing he would be able to hear what I had just said. He gave a confused look so I spoke again. “How long have you known?”

It didn’t take long for him to answer. “Four months ago.”

“So when I started…I’m sorry.” I breathed out letting out the few tears that have been building up behind my eyes. Yoongi shushed me once I spoke those two words. His lips met my forehead and when he pulled back tears were now welling up in his eyes only making me feel more upset and a small cry left my lips. “Yoongi…I-I’m-”

“Shh, it’s okay. We’ll get through this okay? You just need to talk to me when you need help with all of this okay? You’re going to get better…you will, I promise.”

That Was Wine? Didn't Taste It

Character: King George III X reader
Prompt: Character A just downed half a bottle of liquor thinking it was juice. Character B has to fix the situation before bad things start to happen.
Sentence 1: “come back to bed”
Sentence 2: “Let him go! It’s me that you want!”
Word Count: 976
W/T: Alcohol, drunks, small bit of yelling, overly emotional reader
A/N: So this was a randomizer prompt that I did with @desperatepenguin722 who is an amazing writer and great human being! I love em! Again, unedited, so most likely some mistakes scattered about. Hope y'all enjoy it!


“Y/N? Where are you?” A familiar voice calls from beyond the dresser, where you were currently sitting, mindlessly bunching your F/C dress up in your hands and letting go. “Hm? Geo-Hic-Georgey? Is that you?” You giggle, your body feeling extremely warm. You tilt your head upwards to find your husband towering over you, his handsome face scrunched up in confusion. “Wha… What in the world are you doing here?” He inquires, blinking a couple of times to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. You automatically light up at the sight of George, any and all thoughts you had leaving you. “George! My beautiful h-hic-usband! My powerful King-hic-!” You laugh, attempting to stand. Your wobbly legs slip out from underneath of you, and you plop back down onto the hardwood floor, your glassy eyes finding their way back up to George’s. He slowly opens his mouth to say something, but is interrupted by the far door of the room opening, a servant poking her head in.

“Your Maj-”



The door slams shut just as quickly as it was opened, and you unintentionally let out a small giggle. “There’s n-hic- no need to yell, hon-hic-honey.” You coo, trying to stand again, this time grasping at the wall for support. “Y/N, what in the world have you been doing?” George asks worriedly, quickly reaching over and taking you in his arms. You stumble slightly, balancing yourself against his chest. “Oh nothing, I just-hic- had a servant bring me -hic- some food and such.” George’s eyes narrow at you, as if he were contemplating something. “You’re so cute.” You slur, pressing a kiss against his lips passionately. He accepts it, kissing back gently, as if he were testing something. He pulls away, still staring at you with questioning eyes. “Not fair.” You pout, sluggishly beating a fist against him in an attempt to be defiant. “You taste like wine.” He accuses, his eyes narrowing even more. “Whaaaa-hic-.” You say, your head suddenly becoming a bit heavier on the left side, making it tilt. “What have you been drinking?” He asks, walking you to your bed and gingerly sitting you on the edge. Instantly, you raise a finger to the green bottle across the way, laying down on the top of the desk George sometimes uses to write things down at, its contents dried out. “I just wanted some grape juice, so I had one of the-hic-maids bring me a bottle. You -hic- weren’t here to -hic hic- ask for it for me, so I just -hic- did it myself.” George swiftly steps away from you and to the desk, grasping the bottle in his hand, his eyes scanning the label. Even though you could still see him, he already felt like he was too far away. “Come back to bed.” You pout, tears forming at the corners of your eyes. His head slowly turns towards you, his eyebrows furrowed. “Y/N, this is wine.” “Didn’t taste it.” You deadpan, staring at him distantly. “Did you just down this within the past twenty minutes of which I was away?” He questions, his voice raising. “Aren’t you proud?” You smile cheerfully, sitting yourself up a little straighter. George cocks his head back, surprised by your answer. He opens his mouth to say something, but once again, the far door opens to interrupt him.

“Your Maj-”

“WHAT.” George shouts angrily at the man at the door. You slowly turn your head to the now open door, a tall man dressed in a rather nice coat, stood frozen in place. “Uh,” he begins, shifting nervously, “you are needed in the courtyard.” George closes his eyes and shakes his head, mumbling something unintelligible. “Very well, grab my coat off the wall.” He commanded, striding towards the door. The man practically jumps upon the King’s coat, holding it out for him to slip his arms into. Wait, George will be leaving you? “No!” You blurt out, both men stopping their actions. “Let him go! It’s me you want!” You shout, tears threatening to escape you. George bites his lip and closes his eyes, turning his head away slightly. “Can this matter wait until the morning?” He breathes to the man behind him. “I can let them stay in a guest room, and you can resume it in the morning?” The man suggests, his eyes glancing at you, in your dazed and hiccuping state. George nods and pulls his arms back out of the sleeves, motioning for the well dressed man to hang back up. “No one else is aloud to come into this room for the rest of the night. Everything will resume in the morning.” The mystery man nods and closes the door behind him, leaving George where he was standing, his eyes now affixing themselves upon you. “I thought -hic- you were g-hic-goi-hic hic- going to leave meeeeee.” You begin, bawling like a small child. Within a moment’s time, your husband was next to you, one of his arms wrapped around your waist, the other gently lowering you onto the bed. “Shhh.” He whispers, trying to calm you down. You sniffle and grab ahold of his shirt, balling it up in your fists as you leave tear stains on it. Slowly, your hiccups are replaced with yawns, and the tears from your eyes are exchanged for drowsiness. You feel yourself begin to drift off to sleep, but your husband’s voice draws you back for a moment.


“Yeah?” You yawn.

“You’re not aloud to drink without me in your presence from now on.”


“Y/N.” He growls, his voice serious.

“Fine, fine. Only because you’re such a doll, though.” You smile, closing your eyes again and pressing yourself closer to George.

“And Y/N?”


“If you ever do this again, at least save some for me.”

Words Unsaid

Pairing: Philip Hamilton x reader
Word Count: 1,046ish
T/W: None!
A/N: For @justfangirlingaround‘s request: “A Philip fanfic where he and the reader are recently married and the reader is looking for something and finds a box filled with letters and poems for the reader and Philip come in and tells that he was too shy to give them to you and it’s just reading them and all cute and fluffy?~”  Let the cuteness commence!!! 
Tags: @justfangirlingaround

“Almost nine months…and I still can’t find that spatula!” You turned to Philip, who was sitting on the couch flipping through channels. 

“Do you think we should just buy a new one?” Philip shrugged, only half paying attention.

“Philip! Your mom gave me that one, do you know what would happen if I show up to her Christmas baking party next week with a different spatula than everyone else?” You asked in all seriousness.

“You’ll be banished from baking with my mom?” he guessed, teasing you a little.

“Not just your mom…your aunts, your sisters…I gotta find that…but I’ve looked everywhere,” you blanked out, as your mind began to wonder if you could even be banished from the family.

“Maybe you should check the spare closet,” Philip suggested, “We put a couple of boxes in there when we moved in and haven’t really gone through them. We probably shou-”

“Ah! Babe, I knew I married you for some reason!” You clapped your hands and rushed to the guest room.

Once in the guest room, you opened the closet door to find a stack of brown cardboard boxes, labelled with sharpies. You scanned over each box reading the labels, ‘CDs’, ‘Philip’s Baseball Gear’, ‘Blankets’ until you reached the top shelf and one read ‘Random.’ Letting out a huff, you grabbed the step ladder, folding it out and climbing up it. Pulling out the not so light box you heard a little thud come from the closet.You managed to set the heavy box on the ground and climbed back up to see what fell. You looked around to find an antique looking wooden box. 

“I’ve never seen you before,” you tilted your head out of curiosity, reaching for the small box. 

As soon as your feet were back on the floor, you examined the object in your hands. It was emerald green with black trim, in the middle were the initials ‘P.H.” Was it…Philip’s? Why had you never seen it? Was he hiding something? You bit your lip a little and tapped a finger on the top of the box, debating whether or not you should open it. You were married…you’re not supposed to have secrets. You slowly opened it to find…

“Parchment paper?” you were confused as you picked up a folded piece.

Sitting down on the step ladder, you rested the box on your thighs and began searching through it. You picked piece of paper after piece of paper, finally deciding to open one. You took a deep breath as you gently unfolded it.

 It read:

“My Darling, y/n,
                      my world stops when you smile at me
                      and the time stands still when you look at me
                      and i’m so over with inks
                      and papers
                      and words
                      because you are too beautiful to describe
                      and my love for you can’t be contained in thousand words. 
                                                                                                       Forever, Philip”

You let out a little ‘aww’ picking up another one.

“Tuesday, February 16th, at the local coffee shop,
                     My eyes laid upon you for the first time today.
                     Every time I glanced in your direction;
                     You took my breath away
                     And if you haven’t left when you did;
                     I would have passed out.
                     I could only imagine how I would have felt if you noticed me…” 

You remembered that night vividly. It was freezing in New York and you along with a group of friends decided to go to the local coffee shop near the college campus to study. Heck, you might’ve done anything to get out of those freezing dorms. But that was the first night you saw Philip, he was in the corner of the cafe with pen and paper in hand. Your eyes met for a brief moment before your friends pushed you into the line for coffee. The whole rest of the night they teased you about ‘the cute guy with the curly hair.’ They dared you to go give him your number, but you said no, if fate wanted you two to be together, it would happen. 

And it just so happened that a week later, he was at a ‘baseball team house party’ you had been invited to by your best friend’s boyfriend, who was also on the team. Coincidently you found that ‘cute guy with the curly hair’ in the corner once again and as fate would have you two wound up together. Obviously, you’re now happily married. 

You furrowed your eyebrows together when you found an incredibly small piece of paper, about the size of a fortune in a fortune cookie. You rolled it open.

“Thursday, February 16th,
                         She said yes.”

A wide smile came across your face as you stared down at that delicate piece of paper.

“Hey, baby, did you find-” Philip stopped when he saw you holding that little box.

“Why haven’t I seen these?” You looked up at him.

“Because…ya know…,” he rubbed the back of his neck and sat down on the bed across from where you were, “I didn’t want you to think I was, ya know…lame and I was shy…”

“Lame? Philip, these are beautiful and precious and- and memories!” you turned the most recent paper to face him. 

“Yeah, but I was on the baseball team, and I thought if I let you see that super soft side of me you’d think I was lame, or weird, or stupidly in love with you.” Philip avoided eye contact, looked down at his hands. 

“Babe,” you got up, placing the box on the step ladder and walked over to sit by his side, wrapping your hands around his left hand, “I didn’t like you because you played baseball, I liked you because you were…lame, and weird-”

“Thank you, that makes me feel so much better!” Philip said sarcastically looking towards the door.

“And,” you reached a hand to turn his gaze your direction, “because you’re stupidly in love with me.” 

He couldn’t help but smile as he rested his forehead against yours. 

“I love you,” you closed your eyes and rubbed his hand, enjoying the pure moment.

“I love you too,” Philip said. 

“If you love me,” you started, Philip pulled back at your tone, looking a little worried, “You’ll help me find that spatula.”

Philip laughed a little before giving you a quick kiss, “Can do, baby girl.”

Enouement- 18

Summary: Told in reverse-chronological order, Enouement is the story of love and loss, telling the journey that led you to your ultimate destination: a life full of happiness and regret, mistakes and laughter- and the man who gave you it all. Bucky x Reader

Words: Lots????

Warnings: None

Master   Part 17

Originally posted by yourlipbalm

The living room was full of boxes, shoved up against walls with Sharpie scribbled on the sides. The windows were open, a gentle breeze flowing in and carrying the music of an old CD player through the house. The floors shined, freshly mopped, and you hummed along to the song as you wiped down each and every surface of the kitchen.

The screen door squeaked open and Bucky huffed, pushing through the open door with a heavy box in his hands. Steve was on his heels, carrying a box he could barely see around, and the two pairs of sneakers squeaked on the floor as they sat the boxes down among the others. Poking your head around the corner, you frowned at them both.

Keep reading

Misdialed (1/3)

REQUEST. “I really liked that AU you reblogged that was like “you have the wrong number but you sound pretty upset about that person wanna talk it out” if you want could you write a Steve Rogers x Reader fic based off of that please. From anon.

SUMMARY. Lawyer AU. Steve Rogers x Reader. Your boss gives the case you’ve been working so hard on to someone else. Out of anger, you call a friend to rant – only to realize that you called the wrong number.

WARNINGS. Curse words. A bit of angst, mostly just hurt / comfort. Gender neutral reader.

WORD COUNT. Approximately 1.4k

AUTHOR’S NOTES. I’d like to thanks USA’s Suits for introducing me to the world of law drama, HAHAHHA jk. Sorry this took a while, dear anon! Had to do a bit of research. But I hope it does meet your standards. This fic will have three parts (bc it was getting so long lol). Enjoy! As always, I appreciate all feedback. (:

#1: you are here / #2 / #3

Go to hell, you wished you could say. You wished you could chuck those words at his pretty face, shove them up his Roman god nose or slap them across his high and mighty cheekbones. Just ruin him. But that would mean the end of your job, the end of your life. So as satisfying as it would be to smack the forced, sympathetic smile off his face, you can’t risk it. Can’t risk losing your career because of this. Even if right now, it felt exactly like that.

“–isn’t to say you’re incapable of handling this case, Y/N,” Mr. Barnes said, leaning back in his seat, fingers curled over its handles. “This is just more of Natasha’s area of expertise.”

You spared the redhead beside you a cutting glance. Legs crossed and hands folded in front of her, she was the most professional picture of prim and proper, with her steel eyes focused on Mr. Barnes. You turned back to him. “Sir, this is my client. I’ve won Wakanda Inc., when no other lawyer in the city could. I should be–”

“You’ve taking too long,” he said, lips thinning to a firm line. “And the longer you take, the less likely we’ll win – and we need to win this. You do guarantee that, don’t you?” he asked, gaze shifting to Natasha with arched brows.

Her lips parted, hesitant, and for a moment, hope flickered in your chest, tiny but sharp, like the click of a cigarette lighter. Maybe she’d say no. Maybe she’d give you the case. Maybe –

She nodded, edges of her lips twitching up. “Have I ever disappointed you, sir?”

Now, you wished you could tell her to go to hell. It wasn’t entirely implausible. But you knew better.

It took an immense amount of power to keep yourself from stomping your way out of there, or slamming the glass door of that office behind you. The fact that you haven’t pushed Natasha off a staircase was a goddamn accomplishment. Maybe even a miracle. You made sure not to hold the door open for her, though.

“Follow me,” you said, walking ahead of her towards your office. Had the floor not been carpeted, your heavy but quick footfalls would be bouncing off the glass walls, with the knifelike sound of someone keeping their rage on a leash.

But she caught up with you, effortless with her strong legs and big steps. She glanced at you, wary. “I could come by later–”

You shook your head, making sure to keep your eyes forward and your chin up. “The earlier you start working, the better.” Most of the cubicles you passed by were empty now, most of the employees having gone home for the day. The office felt quieter already.

Passing by a haggard intern, who gave you a warm nod, you gave him a tight smile in return. But once his bright expression wavered at Natasha’s friendlier, more natural smile, you looked away. Your teeth crunched, the muscles in your jaw springing taunt. She’s just so good at playing pretend, wasn’t she? As though she hadn’t just straight-up betrayed you –

Reaching your office, you glanced at your secretary’s desk, now empty. You frowned, stomach sinking. Scott must have gone home already. That’s disappointing. You were hoping to release some of the coiling tension inside you onto him – he’d make you laugh in no time – but you couldn’t blame him. He did say he couldn’t miss family dinner. Not anymore, at least.

Stepping into your office, comfortable despite its modest size, you rounded over to your desk and grabbed a box of files from underneath, setting it just above your scattered paperwork. You fingered through the folders and papers, scanning the labels.

Across you, Natasha fidgeted with a button on the long sleeve of her blouse, her soft sigh audible even to you. “Y/N–”

“Hold on,” you said, brows drawing together. Where were the – oh! Right! You had pulled out a few files earlier, right before you were called to Mr. Barnes’ office. Setting the box aside, you gathered the pieces of paper littering your desk, and flipped through them, the sound of the flicking paper slicing through the air.

“I’m not doing this against you, Y/N,” she said, voice measured but gentle. “The firm is–”

You scoffed. “Don’t even use the state of the firm as an excuse for your ambition, Nat.” Slamming the bottom of the pile down on the desk, Natasha wincing across you, you set it down and plucked a few documents out. “You know how hard I’ve been–” You shook your head, swallowing back the scathing words gathering on your tongue. It wasn’t worth it anymore.

Turning back to your work, you slipped the documents into the box, the small pile hitting the bottom with a satisfying thud. You pushed it towards her. “Sharon has some more files, but she’s probably gone home. I’ll tell her to give them to you tomorrow.”

With a resigned sigh, she stepped forward and caught the box, lifting it in her arms with ease. “I’ll just ask Scott to send me Mr. T’Challa’s number?”

You waved dismissively, before your now empty hands fell on your hips. “I’ll arrange the meeting myself – because I am coming with you. He should hear it from me first,” you said, shooting her a look. She didn’t seem fazed by the sharp rise of your tone. “Tomorrow, lunch time?”

Lips pursed, she nodded, then spun around. Just as she was about to step out, she looked at you over her shoulder, gaze soft. “Get home safe, Y/N.”

That stung more than you thought it would.

After changing into some comfortable clothes, you tossed yourself onto the bed, and stared at the blank ceiling above, jaw clenched. Memories swam in your mind: all the sleepless nights, the missed meals, the passed up holidays and hang-outs, the relentless research and the incessant ass-kissing – just to get where you were now. Still, it wasn’t enough. Even after winning Wakanda Inc., and ultimately saving the firm from collapsing after Mr. Stark left and took more than half of the clients and employees, you’re still a clumsy junior associate in Mr. Barnes’ eyes, and not the junior partner you were now. Goddamn it

Your fingers curled into the mattress, nails digging into the soft material. The rage was building. Piling in your chest until it was too hard to breathe, until your heart was rebounding against your ribcage and shooting bullets into your veins, the pounding blood igniting the skin above, and –

You can’t keep this inside anymore. Where the hell was Scott when you needed him?

Taking your phone from the nightstand, the scene lit up red, and you could hardly see the phone number you were typing down, with the kind of speed that told how ingrained the number already was in your mind, after nearly a decade of working with him. With every ring, you grew more and more ready to scream at Scott if he didn’t pick the fucking phone up in the next –


“Barnes is a dick,” you said, spitting as much spite as you can into his name. “He just gave the Wakanda case to Natasha. Can you believe it? I’ve been working my ass off for this firm, pretty much saving its own ass after Mr. Stark left and took our shit – and still, he doesn’t trust me to take care of my own case–”

He cleared his throat.

“So, instead, he gives it to Natasha. And you know what? Natasha fucking takes it! She knows how important this is to me, has seen how much work I’ve been putting into this, but no, she’s been a senior partner for far too fucking long, and she knows winning this case will put her name on the wall–”

He coughed again. You furrowed your brows, but forged on, uninterrupted.

“She even tried to act like she didn’t just stab me in the fucking back, that sick–” His cough was louder this time, and you frowned, propping yourself up with a hand behind you, annoyed but concerned. “What the hell’s with you, Scott? Are you okay?”

A beat passed. Some nervous shuffling, and another throat-clearing, then an intake of breath –

“I’m not Scott.”

A/N. I’ll be leaving this weekend, so I’ll make sure to have all the parts out before then. I hope you enjoyed! Especially the anon who requested this! (:

Tagging: (Let me know if you want to be tagged to the story or permanently!) @courtneychicken @riddikuluslyemily @zadyalyss

Serendipitous Sneezes

REQUEST: Since you and @wheresthekillswitch seem to be the causation of all the wonderful crack on my dash, would one of you take a crack request? Where the reader hunts with Sam and Dean and is allergic to things like cats, dogs…. and especially werewolves. - @kmb99t

Warnings: Slight language, sneezing, allergenic grossness, cat shenanigans

Word Count: 1,943

A/N: I hope I did this justice for you, babe! Much thanks to Lee and Han for giving me ideas and editing my tired brain errors on this!

My tags are way down below. Let me know if you want to be tagged in anything that I write :)

As soon as we stepped foot into the motel room, my nose started to twitch. I felt a familiar itch start to grow around my eyes. Well shit.

“There have been cats here,” I hissed, slowly backing back off of the moldy green carpet and out of the doorframe.

Dean looked over the room and then back at me standing a good few feet into the parking lot, “It looks clean, Y/N. I’m allergic, and I’m not sneezing.”

“I can sense them,” I whispered, resisting the urge to furiously rub at my irritated corneas.

Dean rolled his eyes, “Don’t be ridiculous.” He came out into the lot and took my elbow in his hand, slowly leading me back inside the room, “You’ll be fine.”

Famous last words.

Keep reading

Tim Drake Week, Day 7: Injury/Healing

This is so laaaate and I’m sorry. But it’s cute, so enjoy.


Day 7: Healing/Injury

The warning is all there to read:



Oh shit.

The brief flash, building a contingency, is short and bittersweet because the only thing that can deflect Dick Grayson’s mother-hen instinct is literally the wrath of God.

Maybe an alien invasion.

Or not.

The point is, once Dick’s got a hint of hurt vigilante, the man is an unstoppable tank, tearing through cities, bad guys, good guys, unimaginable boxes of cereal, any and all Party Cities and obscure comic book shops to find the culprit.

B couldn’t escape him in outer-fucking-space.

So, there’s that.

Take into account he’d been dodging the Titans also, and it’s just a hodgepodge of fuckery from there because this game thing they’ve got going on? The “Where’s Red?” game. It’s seriously balls, and is severely cramping his style.

Even Ra’s is refusing to pick up his phone calls, so you know shit has apparently gotten real on the good guy side of things.

Welp, he did his utmost best this time.

“Hi Big Wing,” he says over the comm in his ear and taps it to mute before kicking the thug out of his path and continuing on.

What is this I hear about a really bad fight with the Fatal Five?”


“That about sums it up, really. A bad fight. A bad fight we totally won, by the way, thanks for asking.” He doesn’t make a sound as his left side twinges anyway, still raw under the bandages because he might have broken a few stitches or something.

Just not a big deal. Not enough to warrant

Dick’s Sixth Sense

“I hear the Persuader nailed you pretty good,” all easy, just big brother Dick. He’s not fooled for a second, oh hell no.

He huffs and climbs up into the vents, ignoring the pain of the aforementioned injury (and yes, an atomic axe is a weapon no one should try taking on without a serious enjoyment for pain) taps the comm back on and talks low enough to still listen for the usual signals of main bad guy HQ —>This way.

“I deflected his axe with repurposed Luthor tech. The calibrations weren’t that hard.” Which is completely, totally, unequivocally true. After the first hit took out a good piece of him because he’s good, but no one is that good.

Dick hums, fake and telling, making him freeze right in the middle of the vent. “Oh? Well, that’s fine. Knew you could do it, Timmy, but you’ve got to be taking it easy after a fight like that, right?”

“Sure am,” behind the whiteouts, he gets a load of very carefully stacked canisters in a storage room, which is just exactly what he’d been looking for. Almost. Bad guys too. He really liked wrapping up all the loose ends in a case before he puts it to bed. “Doing a little maintenance to the mainframe, cleaning up my old notes, doing some data analysis. All pretty tame.”


He’s got this. It’s in the bag.

Mutes the comm and gingerly removes the vent cover, swinging in easy but the damn side pulls anyway. His wrist computer scans the labels, computes the explosive power in the room (there’s an app for that) while voices pass by, talking about the deal going down in a few hours.

(Yeah, bad news for you.)

“Good, good,” Dick is saying absently as the keypad case comes off and he works a little magic to change the access codes. “I’m glad you’re resting up, Tim. Taking care of yourself like you should since infections are terrible for you.”

Well, the thing about that is–

He was running out of time here. Yes, he took his antibiotics, but maybe he might be just, you know, feeling it a little.

Wisely, he taps the comm on just enough to “mmhmm,” his way through it.

“I mean, I would really hate it if you were working a case right now like that. Just, that would upset me so much, Tim.”

He pauses as the door slides open softly, thinking for a second he might not be able to bullshit his way out of this one.

His vigilante sense is tingling.

Not in any good kind of way.

But, the clock is ticking, and he strafes out of the weapons room to the door shutting behind him. Cracks his knuckles and his neck before it’s time to take to the shadows, do this as quickly and quietly as possible.

“You’d be out there. All alone. Without your team since they’re all taking a well-deserved vacay, Tim. They’re not out doing anything strenuous.”

He sucks in a breath, presses flat into the shadows until the first with a very nice AK-47 come right up on him–

And is down for the count.

“Hey, I just got a really good ping,” he zip ties the guy and keeps moving, “let me call you back when I get something–”

“And you’d just be making is worse, Tim,” Dick goes on, “because you don’t know your limitations sometimes–”

Shit. Here we go.

Second and third armed mercenary go down seamlessly. All kinds of winning right here.

By the time Dick has gotten somewhere around the, “and with what we do, Timmy, you have to understand the lines you can cross with your body and your health,” he has put down twelve, maybe fifteen, ready to come up on the big boss for the night so he can just get this over with and head back to the safe house for a nice long soak in a hot tub.

When the main doors open, however–

He sighs because he really hates when it’s twenty to one. Not that he doesn’t like those odds, but it’s still not his preferred ending of the night.

There’s a whole lot of guns cocking, shiny barrels pointed at him, and a sharp flash of white is his teeth in the glow because he’s smiling at how cute that is.

His gauntlet spits out a whirly bird, other hand full of pellets, and it’s time to rock.

“…but the best thing to keeping yourself on the up-and-up, Timmy? Something you taught all of us?”

The room explodes in a cacophonous mess of shit just breaking. Everywhere. Shit is breaking all over the place, and he didn’t even move.

His mouth drops open a little as the Outlaws and a dozen members of the Justice League form a half circle around the busted out wall and face his bad guys with a whole lot of yes please, I’ll have this dance.

Nightwing is in the center, celly held up to his ear, and the expression on his face under the domino is downright murderous.

“You need to know when to call in some friends.”

The ensuing fight is just absolutely bullshit.

Every time. Every. Time. he jumps in somewhere to take someone down, another superhero catches him and throws him out of the way.

He understood Hood doing it. He understood B. He understood Flash. He even understood Superman and Wonder Woman, but when it’s fucking Booster Gold?

That is beyond insulting.

He got here first for fuck’s sake and already called goddamned dibs!

“Stay out of this or Batman is going to kick my ass,” Booster just lays it out, “and I would much rather not do that.”

His utter frustration is compounded when Cyborg is downloading all their data and sending it to the Watchtower for analysis, the baddies in charge are already being questioned and a team sent out to meet the buyers, the weapons are being safely transported away, and just!


But instead, he’s got to contend with the stalking Nightwing, growling low and dangerous under his breath. He doesn’t even get enough time to fight being pretty much thrown over one of the older vigilante’s shoulders.

“Dammit! Put me down.”

“Oh? You think that’s going to happen?” Nightwing growls in that tone and send shivers, just all the shivers.

“I’m fine, I swear. I was on a time limit, I didn’t–!”

One powerful kick and the door is banging open, reinforced locks breaking apart. The Batplane is waiting, warmed up and ready to go.

“C’mon! I don’t need all this! There were only twenty of them, dammit.”

And nope. He sees a week full of bed rest and cuddles with his name written all over it apparently because even the most minute movement had Nightwing’s hand clamping down hard on the back of his thighs, very, very close to a pressure point that will put him out for hours.

Shit. Just, shit.

“I should warn you in advance, though,” as the leap up puts them in the cockpit, course already set for Gotham, “Alfred? Is even more pissed than I am, Timmy.”

His eyes go wide behind the whiteout, and his scramble to run is thwarted as the plane starts to rise.


oh h e y look who wrote another be more chill fic haha w h o o p s
uh…I might make a part two to this? That is, if ya’ll want me to I dunno…but yeah…enjoy!

Words: 3350

Genre: Angst

Pairing: Jeremy Heere/Michael Mell

Warnings: Swearing

Jeremy hadn’t expected a phone call.

He also hadn’t expected the news that came soon after.

Keep reading

Coming Back (Alpha/Maine)

[AO3] [Fic Tag]

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 5513

Summary: Neither of them should have survived, and yet here they are. Coming back from this will take time. And a little company.

Notes: So we can all blame the lovely @herecomesthesniperbutt​ for this because it was her who was writing the Alpha that sent us diving deep into this ship and this AU. This is sort of based off an out there ‘theory’ (more of an AU) around a certain part of the new season, of which none of the details turn up in this early part, but… 

This was finished at midnight and is unedited. Forgive any mistakes, I might edit it later.

Warnings: Disassociation, Self Harm (first part, unintentional)

They didn’t know how long it took them to finally claw their way onto the solid ice at the bottom of the cliff. It had to have been hours. Hours of dragging frozen fingertips, barely protected by kevlar, across thick layers of snow and ice trying and failing over and over again to gain some purchase. Hours of barely holding their head above the freezing water, no helmet to protect their face from the burning cold of the air around them. It was at the bottom of the dark water, far beneath them, alongside the other pieces of their armour.

It was a miracle they’d pulled it all off in time.

But they’d made it.

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Silver Silence Part 4

Pairing: Bucky x shy enhanced reader

Summary: Bucky finally finds himself able to live at the compound with the team, but finds it difficult to repress his feelings for his new very shy and gentle teammate.

Word count: 2,066

Warnings: Fluff and slight anst, Very shy reader, swearing mentions of social anxiety.

You woke up, blinking rapidly at the hovering lights above you and letting out a groan from the sting in your head. The surface you where lying on was cold, and stiff, but there was an obvious softness propping your head up. As you turned your head to the side you noticed you where in the med bay, and naturally you assumed it was because you passed out and Bucky had brought you in. As slowly as possible you sat up, causing light whimpers to cascade from your mouth. No one was around, and the room carried with it, an eerie silence that you honestly felt the need to get away from.  So with that to motivate you, you pulled yourself off the table and began to head to the door. In the hall you where met with that same silence that you found in the lab, not a single drop of noise was forming in the air, all except your delicate footsteps.

Feeling slightly out of breath, even with the fact that you had only walked to the living room, you propped yourself up on the door frame.  There was no one in the site, not even in the kitchen, just scattered papers and game controllers on the coffee table and abandoned boxes of protein bars and plates strewn about the kitchen. Taking all this in you knew exactly where everyone had gone, they were out on a mission, and judging by your surroundings, a urgent one.

You slid your hand into the back pocket of your jeans to grab your phone and noticed it wasn’t there. Figuring it was most likely in your room you began to walk towards the elevators and pressed your floor button.

It felt weird being in your room for some reason, like you had been out of it so long that it was almost less appealing then it normally is, but none the less it was a strange sort of safety from the rest of the compound.  

You searched all around your room but there was no sign of your phone, and even more unusual no sign of its charger either. After retaining this information, and redressing yourself for the day, you ventured back into the elevator, and found your finger hovering over the button for the upper floor.

You hadn’t been out of the compound since you arrived there and it felt like you where just pretending to be a caged animal that could just as easily break if outside your padded cell. With one quick thought you pushed the button for the lobby and walked out the front doors.


Buckys POV

A commotion in the front of the helicarrier snapped me out of my exhausted daze and caused me to rise to my feet.

“What’s wrong?” I asked Steve as he made his way back to where I stood, his face slightly panicked but trying to remain calm.

“That was Helen, she can’t find (y/n)” he took a deep breath before answering the obvious question etched on my face. “She went to the lab to check on her after moving her from the bed to the table to run tests and she’s not there, she isn’t even in the compound.”

I took a long slow breath and glanced around at the faces behind him, “how long until we land?”

“About an hour” he replied, sighing as he took a seat next to me.  I could feel his eyes on me as I slowly sat next to him, carding my hands through my hair, then feeling his hand on my shoulder.

“She’ll be okay Bucky, she may have just went for a walk.” He reassured me.

I turned my head to look at him, stress already radiating from my chest. “But what if she’s not Steve, what if something bad happened? She’s the most venerable person on this team, she’s the easiest target.” I swallowed.

Steve smiled at me softly ready to reassure me even though he himself was freaking out inside. “She’s tougher then you think.”


“HEY! Watch where you’re going asshole!” You shouted as a bicyclist nearly ran you over on a cross walk.  It almost surprised you how vocal and outgoing you felt all of a sudden, but then you remembered you where always less shy when it came to the city, and especially when the people around you weren’t world renowned super heroes.

Yes, you do suppose maybe sneaking out of the compound after being hospitalized from over exertion was a bit of a risk, but on the other hand you had previously been on your own for almost 7 years.

It had been roughly 2 hours since you left the safety of the compound and so far you had walked around the park, got ice cream from a vender and even stroke up a conversation with a complete stranger on a park bench, all with only one near death experience. And by near death, of course you meant the skinny prick on his bicycle that almost broke about 5 of your bones if he had hit you.

Luckily though, everything was going according to plan, well a plan you didn’t really have but let’s call it a strategy, as in don’t break yourself.

As you rounded a corner you saw a little movie store tucked in between a boutique and a coffee shop. You didn’t necessary need any more movies, but there was someone who you knew would enjoy some of their own copies. You made your way through the plethora of bodies and pulled yourself into the store, hearing a ring of bells as the door opened and closed.  The shop keeper greeted you with a friendly smile and an almost animated “Good evening!” which he followed with the usual “Can I help you find anything?”

You thought for a moment before asking him where you could find older movies.

He pointed his finger in the direction left of you. “All the way down second to last shelf” he said.

You nodded curtly at him and made your way down the rows of shelves until you stood in front of one labeled “vintage”. You scanned the tittles until you found a copy of ‘Arsenic and Old Lace’ along with ‘The Maltese Falcon” and ‘How Green Was My Valley’. Two of which you didn’t own, but were sure even if you gave them to Bucky that he would let you borrow them when ever.

After checking out you left the shop and glanced at the horizon. Noticing it was beginning to approach night fall, which meant you probably woke up in the lab around late afternoon.  Deciding it was most likely a better idea to head back to the compound now, rather than wait another hour in line for coffee and pastries like originally planned. You found where you parked the car you had conveniently borrowed from tony and began to drive back home.

You felt your bones ache with sleep as you took the last couple of steps through the doors and into the elevator. You’re sure you had a content smile on your face the whole way up that is until it was metaphorically smacked right off as the elevators doors opened to reveal all your team mates standing around the living room with their arms crossed.

“I see you had fun” tony was the first one to speak, making his way over to you. “And really? My Havana?” he asked.

You shrugged sheepishly, shrinking down and mumbling “I like vintage things”

“Where have you been all day?” you heard a voice from behind tony and glanced around him as Bucky began to walk towards you. You felt his gaze wonder down your body, checking for any sign of injury.

“i-I I just wanted some air…” he looked at you with hurt eyes and then shook his head as he passed you and walked into the elevator.  Steve pushed past tony and stood in front of you.

“You should have told us, we were all worried sick, all we had was footage of you walking out of the building.”  He said softly.

You sighed softly. “I didn’t have my phone, and you all were gone I didn’t think it was that big of a deal.”

“Anything can happen to you out there.” He replied more sternly.

That caused your blood to heat up. “Yeah well ‘out there’ is where I spent seven years of my life alone.” You seethed as you started to back up to the elevator again. “I can handle myself, just because I have you all here to help me does not suddenly make me any more fragile then I was before.”

And with that you went back to your room.  When you laid you bags down on your bed you felt an overwhelming tight sensation in your chest. They were all disappointed. They were worried about you, and as much as that filled you with warmth, it also filled you with guilt.

You knew what hurt you possibly the most was Bucky’s face when he approached you. You couldn’t really explain it, but the handsome solider admitted a feeling in you. Maybe because he didn’t treat you like glass all the time, or the fact that he made the effort to get you out of your room but he was definitely growing on you.

Taking all the courage you could muster up you grabbed the movies you had gotten for him from the bed and headed down to his room.

It took you about 10 minutes of standing at his door to finally gather enough adrenaline to actually knock and when you did all you heard was a soft “come in” from the other side.

You entered, finding Bucky sitting up against his beds headboard, with one foot draped aimlessly off the bed and a book in his hands.  His face held slight confusion but still looked at you almost disappointingly. You clutched the movies tighter to your chest, looking down to the floor in short glances.

“I’m sorry” you blurted out before you could stop yourself. “I just… I’m sorry”

He sighed, looking down at the book then closing it and laying it on the bedside table, before nodding and patting the spot beside him on the bed.  You shuffled over to him, sitting on the side near his legs carefully, facing him instead of where he pointed at.

“I was worried you know” he spoke, causing you to nod. “I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

You nodded again and then looked down at your lap. “You have reason to worry…” you started. “I know I’m the equivalent of a china doll, but I’m honestly capable of a lot more then you think.” You shifted your gaze to his eyes. “Don’t forget I was on my own for seven years before I came here.”

He let his eyes linger on you as he softened his features. “I know, I know I just have this primitive need to protect you… And I’m not even sure why, I don’t even know you all that well but…” he trailed off.

“You’re broken in mind, and I’m broken in body.” You finished for him. “We are both a little fragile. And maybe you are to me, as Steve is to you. Someone to lean on.”

He sat there with you in the silence that seemed to drag on for centuries, but it was the kind of silence you felt content in, and honestly it felt all the more peaceful knowing his energy resided in it.

“I uh… Got you something” you felt your voice become nervous as you handed him the three movies, with shaking hands.  He took them from you and looked down, reading the tittles and letting a warm smile rest on his face.

“Thank you.” He replied, looking up into your eyes in sincerity.

“I just thought you’d like to have a few movies of your own since you enjoy mine so much.” You smiled back at him.

As you made your way to leave you felt butterflies form in your stomach.

“Oh and (y/n)” he called, making you turn around. “The mission today… We went to a hydra facility for a couple of files.”

You nodded, your eyes fixed in confusion at what he was getting at.

“We know how to cure you.”

TAGS: @avengershavethetardis

Beginner’s Guide to Going Gluten Free

So, just discovered you have a sensitivity or allergy? Want to see if you might be gluten or wheat intolerant? Just found out you have a thyroid issue, or your doctor wants you to try going off gluten for the two-week test? Been there, and yeah, it’s super confusing and really intimidating.

My mom had a gluten sensitivity, so I was lucky to have lived a few years in a household that navigated the gluten-free world. It really helped me out when my wheat allergy developed, but I still had to learn a lot as I went, and you don’t need me to tell you that trial and error isn’t a good way to go when health is involved. So here are some basics and tips for if you need to go gluten free.

1. Don’t do it unless you need to. Not only does it make it harder for people who need gluten-free products, people who go gluten free as a fad generally have no health benefit from it, or, at worst, get malnourished from doing it wrong. Not only that, but it’s wicked expensive. (But seriously, it makes it so hard for those of us who need it, because then food service industries see it as just a fad and cut corners, which could literally kill some of us. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen something labeled “gluten free” and then also read a “made in a facility with wheat” warning. That’s kind of mutually exclusive.) If you are wondering if you have a sensitivity, by all means, try it out. But don’t think that gluten free is inherently healthier, because it’s not.

2. Basic Flour Blend. Yes, GF baking is really hard and it doesn’t taste the same, but I’ve found that a 2:2:1 blend of White Rice:Tapioca:Corn Starch works pretty well. 1tsp of xanthan gum per cup of blend and you’re good to go. (It’s all going to be dense, sorry, no getting around it. Dense and crumbly and dries out easily, but at least it’s a baked good. Makes a tasty pancake and crepe, tho.)

2.5, regarding flour: Don’t scoop directly from the flour into the measuring cup. Pour it (with another scoop if needed) into the measuring cup. GF flour, particularly ‘starch’ flours like tapioca and corn starch, pack down ridiculously, and it will ruin the dry/water ratio.

3. Do not knead bread made with gluten free flour. Kneading is to exercise the gluten and make it rise more. No gluten, no knead. You’ll make it turn into a dense brick.

4. Find a bulk food store and buy your flours there. Good stores for finding bulk barrels are places like WinCo or Sprouts. Pre-mixed flours are expensive, so make your own to save money. (Though if you want to splurge for a dedicated gf bread flour, go ahead, it’s worth it.) Make sure the barrels of gluten free flour are all near each other in one area. If they are spread out in and amongst gluteny flours, don’t touch it. Not everyone will use the proper scoops in the proper barrels. If your GF flours are near each other, who cares if a little rice gets in with a bit of garbanzo. On that note:

5. Don’t let anyone trick you into thinking garbanzo bean flour is a suitable substitute for wheat. You can taste the beans even after it’s cooked. It is an abomination and should only be used for things like falafel.

6. DO NOT EAT RAW GF DOUGHS OR BATTERS. It won’t hurt you or anything, they just nasty as all heck. They taste like feet, sand, and regret. That Betty Crocker GF Cookie Dough may look tempting, but it’s the actual devil in disguise.

7. Learn to read labels. Avoid Wheat (all varieties, including spelt, semolina, kamut, etc), Rye, Triticale, and Barley. Look for the bold warnings at the end of the ingredients list first. But don’t take it at face-value. Scan through that list, too. They don’t always list allergens. EX: Kit-Kat doesn’t list any allergens in bold at the bottom of the list, but a main listed ingredient is wheat flour.

7.5 ALWAYS read the label. Even if it says gluten free, scan that label. Even if you can’t see a way for gluten to be in there, scan that label. Twizzlers have wheat as a main ingredient, and idk about you, but I would never have guessed. A lot of canned foods have added wheat as filler. Not necessarily a bad thing, but bad if you can’t have it.

8. Do your research before eating out. Never trust a verbal statement in a restaurant without a dedicated menu or breakdown being shown to you, or having looked at it beforehand. Ask sit-down restaurants for an allergen menu, or ask if they have a gluten-free menu. As for fast-food, you can find allergen menus online. Personal recommendation: Chic-fil-a is a good, safe place to eat, as long as you let them know when ordering grilled chicken anything that it’s an allergy, not preference.

9. Udi’s Bagels are totally worth the cost. Treat yo self. Same with the muffins.

10. hmu for recipes if you’re stuck, but a generally good way to go is a protein, a veg, and a starch for each meal (except breakfast if you just want something like cereal or yogurt. I get it.). Frozen veggies are a amazing and easy. Beans and chicken are good, cheap protein. Rice, potatoes, and gluten free pastas are my go-to starches. Just mix and match for mealtimes until you find some good recipes. You’ll probably have to start cooking for yourself a lot more, so just buy up lots of veggies you enjoy and freeze the ones you don’t use immediately if you get fresh. Also, snack on fruit. I found when I went GF that I wasn’t as full between meals, so I gained weight at first from eating chips to fill the corners. Fruit has a lot of fiber and will help you stay full.

11. Take a multivitamin, if you don’t already. Wheat flour has a ton of added minerals and vitamins, which is great for keeping down rates of malnutrition. But it also means that if you’re not getting vitamins and minerals from the other parts of your food, you’re going to start getting low on them once you cut out wheat.

12. Eat more fiber. Not to be gross, but a lot of people get constipated when they first go gluten free. The American diet in particular relies heavily on wheat products, which also contain a lot of fiber, so cutting that out cuts out a lot of dietary fiber. Add something like Metamucil if you’re really having trouble, but adding more foods like carrots, leafy greens, corn, beans, and apples can usually get it taken care of.

13. Throw out everything that has gluten as soon as you know you’re going gluten free for good. Don’t learn the hard way that you can cross-contaminate yourself.

14. Get a new toaster. I know you can super-deep clean toasters, but it’s so difficult and you might still leave remnants behind.

15. If you live with anyone who isn’t gluten free, label everything. You do not want to be scrounging at 3am and grab the wrong toaster waffle.

16. Clean your oven and microwave, too. Spilled remnants can still get in the air and bake into your food. Plus it’s always good to have a clean oven.

17. Always ask somebody if you have questions. You can always come ask me, I’m more than happy to help! Seriously, you have no idea how much I love to cook.

Terra Nova  ~Part Ten: The End~

[See my Masterlist for earlier sections. I’d link them, but for some reason that negates the tags]

WE’RE HERE! :D Part Ten of Terra Nova - the last chapter. I’m so glad you guys are enjoying the story, it’s been so much fun to write. <3 

THE STORY SO FAR: You’re in a tunnel, somewhere below the surface of the planet, searching for your lost ‘exhibit-mates’, while Bones and the rest of the Enterprise desperately try to get you back. 

Pairing: Reader X Bones
Words: 3,614 (told you it would be a long one!) 

Warnings: Swearing, descriptions of explosions, tension, secondary character death

Tagging: @medicatemedrmccoy, @outside-the-government, @kilismaiden, @gerardwayisapotato, @yourtropegirl, @malindacath, @imaginativefanatic, @flowerfairies101, @arcticbubby, @oxymoroniccat, @phanofmanythings and @loverbug1123. Let me know if you want to be tagged in my future posts :) 

           The tunnel was cold. A shiver ran down your back and you pressed your body into the wall, waiting as footsteps slowly faded, becoming one with the soft vibrations that filled the space. You let the air settle for a moment, then crouched low and moved off into the darkness once again, listening hard for any sound beyond your own heartbeat. You shuffled over to the nearest door and pressed gently against the metal. With a soft whine it gave way, and you peered in to find the walls lined with bottles, and the floor filled with boxes.

           Moving inside, you scanned the labels around you, searching for anything that might be useful, but there was no point – you couldn’t read the local language. Your eyes fell on the crate just in front of you, and in a last-ditch attempt to salvage anything before you reentered the tunnel, you pulled off the lid with a loud snap.

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Maison Martin Margiela spring—summer 1999.

HANDCRAFTED PIECES. Raw finished vintage denim waist-coat and customized jeans with random patches. T-shirts and shirts printed with their own photographic image. 

6 rue Fèrou, a large abandoned private house at Place St Suplice in the 6th arrondissement of Paris. The official ‘calendar’ of shows, sent to journalists by the French Chambre Syndical of Haute Couture and Prêt a Porter is stamped and used an invitation. The invited public fill the first two floors of the house. All shutters on the windows and curtains are shut to the outside world. Only the existing light bulbs, hanging on a wire from each ceiling, light each room. The sound and conversations of the public on the first floor are broadcast to the public on the ground floor and vice versa. While the public waits for the show to begin, men in white coats, wearing ‘sandwich boards’, walk in procession through the rooms. Poster size photographs of garments from ‘6’ are printed on each sandwich board. Fifteen men wearing garments from ‘10’ follow them. When all twenty-five men leave the space, the lights go out, and the invited public stands in darkness. Forty women wearing the collection begin their procession, one at a time, through each room. As each woman enters a room they are lit by small lights hand-held by a team of fifty-four men spread throughout the house. As they move through the room their light follows them and goes out as they leave the room. Each woman smells of patchouli oil. A soundtrack of heavy rock music plays over the sound system. For the finale all of the forty women and twenty-five men, pass through the crowd.

The collection is now made up of groups: 0: Reworked garments for women; 0/10: Reworked garments for men; 1: A collection for women; 6: Garments for girls & women, 10: A wardrobe for men, 13: Publications – objects and 22: Shoes for women. All groups other than ‘1’ carries a label on which the numbers 0 to 23 are printed. In each case the relevant number for that piece is encircled on its label.