The Lost One Part 1

Pairing: Eventual Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 1002

Summary: You work in a café but on your way home you find something unexpected.

A/N – No Bucky in this chapter yet.

Originally posted by caffeinatedcollegefreshie

Working in a café had its perks; you met wonderful people, you watch as students and business people order their choice of beverages and give them quick access to food. What was it that attracted people to the coffee shop that you worked in? Was it that coffee shops offered an irresistible convenience? Was it the free Wi-Fi that allowed people to work or just to check up on their friends, or to check through social media while waiting to head off in their own direction? Whatever it was you didn’t mind, you got paid at the end of the week and return home at an early time.

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This is the penultimate of the little fics inspired by Ed and Divide. Other two are here + and here +

This one inspired by How would you feel, mush factor 3000.  Already know the last one I’ll do.  


Liam finds Zayn outside.  With a cigarette, of course.   For a moment, he just stands and watches the silhouette that stands in front of him, lit only by the summer moon as the light finally fades. 

Behind Liam, in the room, it’s finally quiet.  It’s past 2am now.  Popped balloons cover the floor, and every table has empty bottles, and red wine stains on the tablecloths.

In Liam’s head, today has formed a million and one memories and that’s what he can remember now, when he sees the photos, he’ll remember all the things he won’t believe he forgot.

It’s hard though to take notice of anything when all you ever wanted in your life is there standing in front of you. 

And has been since the moment you went halfsies on a McChicken sandwich meal and a Mcflurry all those years ago. 

To now, the present and all that they have in front of them.  That’s what matters. 

“It’s a bit creepy when you stand there all silent, staring at me, i mean it’s certainly not for me arse is it?” Zayn pauses, takes a quick drag  on his cigarette and then when he’s exhaled he adds, “Mr Malik-Payne.”

He turns his head to look back at Liam, this small grin that’s growing larger by the second.

They’ve called each other that for so long.  It’s just that now, as of seven or eight hours ago, it’s official. 

Liam takes the two or three steps to move next to Zayn, reaches his hand out and Zayn knows, hands the cigarette to him and Liam takes a long drag, and then as he takes the cigarette away, he exhales, looking down at it as he does.

“We still quitting?”

“Yep, only allowed one bad habit I reckon once you tie the knot.”

“What’s the bad habit you’ll keep then?” Liam asks.  Knows the answer already of course. 

“Some bloke that gave me the last bit of the Rolo ice cream McFlurry in 2010, literally the worst habit ever and yet there I was yesterday, saying all kinds of dopey romantic shit in front of all those we love and trust, and now I’ve no chance of kicking that habit, what about you?”

Liam leans forward, takes a step down to where the small litter bin is on the small paved area in front of the grass, and stubs out the cigarette, then he stops still, looks to the  ground and then upwards.

Zayn’s there in front of him now, still lit up by the moon, this half smile on his face.

This half smile that Liam’s had as the last thing he sees before he sleeps, whether they’re together or not, since he was 16 and Zayn, 17. 

The half smile that he’d gone home and dreamt about after that first weekend in March.

The half smile on the roof of the X Factor house, even though Zayn was petrified of heights, that he’d offered Liam along with a place in his life, in his heart, that Liam knew he’d fallen in love with that year and yet had taken him so long to work out. 

The half smile that, when they’ve had a fall-out or an argument that’s gone on for days, made worse by separation and all the stress, has shown itself and Liam knows then, no matter who’s fault it is, and really who’s bothered anyway, it’s okay.

It’s his for life.  Or at least as long as they are each other’s life.  

The half smile drops, and Zayn clears his throat, and this is what it’s like sometimes, not just for Liam either, they  got lost in what’s been, and the potential for what’s to come.

He takes the 2 steps in one go and then he’s turning Zayn to face him, cocks his head to one side, and takes in the way Zayn looks.

Simple, crisp white shirt, black trousers, and okay, they probably cost a bomb, but they could be twelve quid from Primark and he’d still be everything.

Lately Zayn looks younger, it’s amazing what planning something like this can do.   

Still mired in the crap, but when it’s just them, when they aren’t stuck in the middle of the that  grind, it just fades away, and it’s there still, like a low hum as a background noise, but they know not to knock into it, not to bother it, and the time will come in a matter of days that the volume will turn up but for now, it stays that way. 

And they live with it, they carry on with it there, and they thrive in spite of it there. 

Liam lifts his hand up to cup Zayn’s cheek. 

“My bad habit?  It’s also my best habit.” 

“Cheesy sod,” Zayn teases and they smile and then silently Liam moves his hand away from Zayn’s cheek, places it on the back of Zayn’s neck and he moves in closer to Zayn, so their hips are aligned though Liam’s a little taller. 

And then he feels a hand placed on the small of his back and then the fingers of their free hands link together.

There’s no music, just the sound of the night, and the occasional bubble of laughter from somewhere within the grounds of the hotel. 

They just sway, they stay silent, each lost in their thoughts, lost in the fact that they have each other.  

With luck they’ll  grow old together, have shit times, have great times, have kids that they’ll welcome into their home if they’re lucky, live to see Batman: we said that was infinity the final episode but we were lying, and breed their own puppies.

And then one day Liam’ll wake up and Zayn’ll be deaf as a post, or they’ll lose their false teeth. 

But each day Liam thinks he’ll marvel at the way that his love, it never stops building and each time he thinks “Well, that’s pretty deep, and you can’t love him more than you do.”

He’s wrong. And he doesn’t think that’ll ever change.

Zayn’s voice brings him back.

“Eh you, I can hear you thinking, you’re ruining this dance, second one of the night too, you can definitely tell it’s our wedding day.”

“Was, Mr Malik-Payne, we’re an old married couple now, that was yesterday and this is today, and anyway, i have plans for this second dance, plans for you and your no arse as well,” he says the last few words with a quick up and down of his eyebrows and a smile that promises all that Liam intends to deliver. 

“Oh yeah?” 


“Hey Liam, jaan,i love you.”

It’s a feeling each time it happens, each time Zayn is so tender, like Liam’s heart is growing right there and then and each time he can’t find the words, so he just presses his body closer, his lips finding Zayn’s.

And that’s how he knows.  That’s what they have, a lifetime.  

Them. The best and worst habits.  

New Zealand Gothic
  • You live by the beach. You’re in the middle of the city, but still there is a beach. You swear it never used to be there, but you’re not sure when it showed up. It’s getting closer, forever closer. They say it’s because of rising sea levels. You don’t believe them.
  • “Keep New Zealand Green”. The slogan is everywhere. Billboards. Rubbish bins. Chip packets. People smile and say it as they put their rubbish in the bins. “Don’t litter,” they say. “Keep New Zealand Green”. The ferns whisper it as they rustle. The trees tell you in their touches, as the branches reach to stroke your face. “Keep New Zealand Green,” people say, monotonous as they throw their soda bottle away. They are no longer smiling. There is fear in their eyes. The “Or else” is unspoken.
  • Your cousin littered once. You never heard from him again. 
  • Food is always on the news. They’ve changed the recipe again. “Of what?” people ask. “Everything,” the media replies. “Nothing is the same.”
  • You take a trip to the States, and everyone thinks you’re Australian. When you get home, there is a kangaroo sitting on your lawn. You don’t know who you are anymore. 
  • John Key gives a stretched smile as he gazes into the camera of the press conference. His mask cracks. The nation pretends not to notice. Silently, they wonder what lies beneath it. 
  • Winston Peters has said something stupid again. “How is he still in Parliament?” your uncle asks. You don’t know. You can’t remember him not being there. Neither can your dad. You check the Archives. He has always been there, it seems. He will always be there. There is no escaping him. 
  • “When I was a kid, I rode my bike outside,” your mum complains as a child on a bike passes you on the footpath. “Kids never ride their bikes these days. They never play outside.” Another kid zooms past. And another. And another. The footpath is nothing but children and their bikes. Why can’t your mum see them?
  • There is a new cabinet member. He is just sitting down for his meeting. His palms are sweating. At the head of the table, John Key lifts his hands to his face. No one but his cabinet sees beneath his mask. The new member wonders what lies beneath. His imagination paints a vivid picture of monsters and tentacles and creatures of evil. John Key peels away his skin. It is much worse. Much, much worse. The cabinet member gulps. Tony Abbott smiles back at him. 
  • “The Haast’s Eagle, now extinct, was big enough to carry off an adult person,” the museum guide tells the group of school children. “Imagine that! Thank goodness they’re not around anymore.” You turn away, so the children can’t read your expression. You can’t lie like the tour guide. One day, the children will find out the truth. It’s better for them to think they’re safe, for now. 
  • You visit Christchurch. The earth starts shaking and you dive under a doorway. Around you, people carry on. “There’s an earthquake,” you try tell them as the building sways violently. You can hear the beams groaning, unable to take the pressure. A crack opens up in the floor beside you. Two old ladies are shopping for clothes and stop to reassure you. “It’s just a small one,” one of them tells you. A hanging light that was swinging perilously snaps and crushes her. She doesn’t scream. “Just a bit of a shake,” the other one says. “You’ll get used to it, after a time.” You’re scared she’s right. 
  • “Don’t scare the kiwi,” the lady at the kiwi house tells you. But the kiwi aren’t scared of you, you think, as they scuttle around in the dark. They know that there is something much more terrifying out there. Something that only they remember. 
  • Maui angered the sun, when he caught it in his net to slow it down. Now, it glowers down upon you all, waiting to kill the unsuspecting. You are scared that one day you will forget your sunhat, and you will be the next victim.
  • “Slip, slop, slap,” you are taught in school. “And always wear a hat. Or the sun will get you”. Your mother covers you in sunscreen, over an inch thick. You only have a gallon left in the bathroom. Your supply is getting low.
  • “I’ll reapply your sunscreen in an hour,” she tells you. But you forget. You cry in agony as your skin catches alight. You wish Maui had left the sun alone. 
  • The kiwi are wise. They hide from the sun, and scuttle around at night. They are the only things that will survive in this accursed land. 

Another design I have been developing recently is modernising the traditional Spode design. This is where I have used the traditional design as a base such as the layout and key design features, but I have then added elements from a modern environment into it. This includes a car, CCTV camera, litter bin, skateboard, phones and headphones. Adding these modern aesthetics in is an effective way of creating a contemporary view of blue and white pottery. This idea is inspired by the way the Timorous Beasties do a social commentary on modern everyday lives within their city toile patterns. Once again a way I could improve on this is by using a different point of reference to modernise or adding the modern additions into the ‘sampler style’ of the Hella Jongerius designs.

Another chance

Name: Another chance

Author: Aya-Fay

Fandom: Fantastic Beasts and where to find them

Pairing: Newt Scamander x Reader

Theme: Newt finds out you smoke.

Tag: @umbrellas-and-tallymarks@oswald-cobblepot-is-my-addiction@fantasticbeastsimagines@elvirateaqueen13@queencobblefreezestuff@myregardstothereader​  @rawrcoptergaming​  @seaweedredandbrown@ohlookfanfiction@hirainhisrain@waywardtimemachinejellyfish@this-is-a-unique-username​  @socktrollqueen@eli-cya​ 

Originally posted by your-harry-potter-imagines

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i have pink hair. it’s very noticably pink. i also have ear piercings and i wear a lot of black. HOWEVER, apparently the lack of anything actually intimidating or punk about me clearly makes me look very approachable because in the last four weeks alone:

  • an american lady comes up to my in a supermarket queue in amsterdam. she asks me which of these medicines she could put on a small cut. i tell her i don’t speak dutch but this one is for insect bites, so not that one
  • while i am sitting on a bench in a shopping centre, tying my shoes, an elderly scottish couple approach me to find out how to get to the high street from here
  • still in amsterdam, i am asked for directions by at least four different people. i regretfully inform them that i don’t know either, and am just as lost as they are
  • several small children point at me and laugh in delight. i wave back. 
  • as i dispose of my empty pizza box in a litter bin, a very tanned woman with very dark eyeshadow requests directions to the nearest public toilet. i proceed to explain to her how stairs work.
  • a customer at a local bakery tells me she loves my hair. she proceeds to spend the next five minutes elaborating how she would have loved to dye hers when she was my age, but of course she is now much too old. i nod and pay for my pastry.
  • at the grocery store, i watch a woman reverse straight into the side of a parked car. she parks her own vehicle and makes her way to the store. as she passes me, who has clearly seen exactly what just happened, she smiles and wishes me a cheerful ‘good evening, darling’

I just remembered that time I wanted to send a letter during my first days in London and I threw it in a litter bin thinking it was a letter box because that bitch called the Language Barrier made me do it

Gentlemen Underground

When he was commissioned to design murals for the platforms of Charing Cross underground station, artist David Gentleman (born 1930) chose as his theme the building of the medieval Charing Cross, one of the twelve memorial crosses commemorating Queen Eleanor (who died in 1290). He devised a scheme to take into account the architecture of the station, allowing spaces for entrances and exits and litter bins. He collaged together nearly 50 wood engravings which were then screen-printed onto melamine sheets by Perstorp Waterite Limited. This was the first large-scale application of wood engraving. 

 A view of the station platform when decorated in 1979.

As with many works by any artist, what came before proved to be important. Before the Charing Cross commission Gentleman had been working in wood-engraving commercially for Penguin Books and their Shakespeare reprints. Steeped in a medieval theme and having to produce one image that would summarise a whole play it was useful training.

 Penguin Books, Shakespeare collection with covers designed by David Gentleman.

The most interesting and taxing commission to come my way so far did not begin as an engraving job at all. Late in 1977 London Transport asked me to design a mural for Charing Cross Underground station. The practical aspects were clear enough; it was to be fabricated in screen-printed melamine laminate, curved to follow the profile of the tunnel; it would be about two metres high and it would have to find room not only for numerous platform entrances and London Transport roundels but also for various staff letter boxes, telephones, plus litter bins and wooden benches for people to sit on. The subject-matter however was pretty vague. At that time the words Charing Cross suggested little more than a closed-down hospital and a run-down British Rail terminus, and the only brief was that the mural should remind passengers of what the name Charing Cross had once meant. Graphically I was given a free hand, and also the vital assurance of being directly responsible to the two people with real authority: The Chairman, Kenneth Robinson and the Chief Architect, Sidney Hardy. 

Having recently been working not only on the Shakespeare covers but also on lithographs for an American edition of The Ballards of Robin Hood, medieval imagery in illuminated manuscripts and paintings was still much in my mind, both for its epigrammatic clarity and for the way it often depicts a sequence of related events in one picture. This narrative technique suited the hundred-metre long strip of platform, and the idea of showing how the original Charing Cross had been constructed came to my mind straight away.

 Original Woodblock by David Gentleman

 Here one of the early proofs of the woodcut above for the project before the black background had been carved out.

The only proviso they made before they committed themselves absolutely to it was that a strip of it, about twenty yards long, but just as it would be finally, should be built (a mock up) in the disused Aldwych station where there are empty platforms available for such things and I got blown up (photographically) a few engravings and a few roundels… ♠ 

Underneath the roundel bulls-eye with ‘Charing Cross’ there was a bench where people can sit. So there was a bench built into the mock up, and then as the idea developed I got the idea that I could have the figures in my design sitting on the bench or using it as a work table. ♠ 

Many stations also feature unique interior designs to help passenger identification. Often these have themes of local significance. Tiling at Baker Street incorporates repetitions of Sherlock Holmes’s silhouette. Tottenham Court Road features semi-abstract mosaics by Eduardo Paolozzi representing the local music industry at Denmark Street. ♥

Building the first Charing Cross
The original Charing Cross was built in 1291-1294 by Edward I in memory of his wife, Queen Eleanor of Castile. It was the most splendid of the twelve Eleanor Crosses erected to mark the successive places where her body rested on its way from Lincoln to Westminster Abbey, and stood near here until it was destroyed in 1647.

Richard of Crundale and Roger of Crundale were the master masons. The stone came from Corfe in Dorset and Caen in Normandy; Richard of Corfe and John of Corfe cut the English stone. Alexander of Abingdon and William of Ireland carved the statues of Queen Eleanor which stood halfway up the Cross, and Ralph of Chichester carved some of the decoration. Many others whose names are forgotten took part in the work: quarry-men, rough-hewers, masons, mortarers, layers, setters, carpenters, thatchers, scaffolders, labourers, falcon or crane-men, apprentices, hodmen, drivers, horsemen and boatmen. These pictures of them are by David Gentleman ♣

 The historical plaque with the text (above) and the enlarged wood engravings by David Gentleman. 

David Gentleman - V&A Website.
The Wood Engravings of David Gentleman, David Esslemont p114, 2000.
Oral History - David Gentleman - Reel 4, Imperial War Museum, 2008-07-03.
♥ London Underground - An overview. Pediapress
Mural text in Charing Cross Station, London.
Guide to the Archive of Art and Design, Victoria & Albert Museum by Elizabeth Lomas, 2001.


Genre: Smuttie Smutty Smut

Members: Jeon… A.k.a #MrRudeAndFlirtLately

Word Count: I have no idea Just read fam

You are on a sweet date with your very own cute yet sexy boyfriend JungKook. The times you freely meet are rare so you are doing everything you like while hanging out at his place. JungKook chuckles as you curl up to him in the sweetest way possible. He plays your hair as you both casually lay down and talk about random stuff.

At some point JungKook slighty leans in and you whisper.

“I want something sweet”

He arches one of those rude eyebrows.

“Like what?”

You pretend that you are thinking.

“Something with rich aroma… Like it tastes the best…”

He puts that playful smirk on as he watches you.

“Oh wait…”

When he actually comes with one lollipop in his hand and one between those lucious lips you try not to roll your eyes at him. You grab the lollipop and leave it aside.

“This is not what I want”

You scoff as you pout but that doesn’t stop JungKook. He keeps teasing you as he keeps playing with his own lollipop.

“Why? Wasn’t strawberry&banana your favorite?”

His eyes brighten as a devilish smirk grows on his whole face. His collarbone slightly showing as he playfully plays the lollipop with his tongue.

You are being a tease huh? Well two can play… You think then you get closer to him. You gently hold his hand and lean in for the lollipop thats loosely hanging in his hands. You lock eyes with JungKook as you whisper.

Yours tastes better.”

Seeing him freeze for a moment you smile. Wrapping your lips around the lollipop and making intentional wet licking sound, you do not break the eye contact.

You sit over him only to feel his already plaguesome need growing.You move your hips which drives him insane even more. JungKook grabs the lollipop and throws it into the litter bin without taking a single look at the corner. 

JungKook kisses you heavy and passionately. His lips devours yours as his tongue dominates yours. His hands travel on your back and when his finger reaches the bottom of your t-shirt JungKook pulls it off with one swift move.

He pulls the back of your bra then lets it go. It hits your skin which you enjoy. JungKook’s large hands undo your shorts and he pushes them down. Only in your underwear you are a beautiful sight to his eyes. He watches you as a lion watches his prey. 

A sudden spank causes you to moan. Impatient, you pull his tshirt off. His flawless skin is warm and soft under your fingertips. You kiss your way down from his neck and make it through his abs. No matter how many times you see him, his body still leaves you in awe. 

You make your way through his slightly seen trail. JungKook lets your hair fall to the side gently as he pats you.

“Now thats what you want isn’t it? Just show me how much you like the taste”

You wrap your fingers around the shaft gently and slowly pump him. You twirl your tongue around his tip and begin to suck it harsh. Your hand moves faster as you go further on his huge tick dick. 

Hearing him groan you proudly keep on what you are doing. JungKooks body tenses as he hisses some swear words. When its too much for him to handle your hot and wet mouth he takes the matters in hands. He fucks your mouth relentlesly at his own will.

You feel him twitch so massage his balls. Soon his hot liquid fills your mouth. You swallow every single drop even licking your lips. JungKook watches you with half lid eyes.

Good girl… How shall I reward you? Maybe…”

All of a sudden he pushes you back. When you fall with your legs open, he crawls between them. JungKook teases your core with his fingers. Seeing you squel with just one touch he smirks.

“So ready huh?”

He takes his time as he pulls you panties down, making sure his finger touches every single inch of your skin. He teases your thighs which causes you to protest. When his head disappear between your legs. When his fingers open you, the cold air he blows make you shiver. Every single nerve in you body is linked to that one single spot and it was at JungKook’s mercy. 

After kitten licks he actually sucks. He slids two fingers as he keeps sucking. As if it isn’t too much for you to handle he moves them even faster. You arch your back and he warns.

“Do not come without my permission”

You shake your head side to side.


As if he wants to taste your limits JungKook goes no and he rubs your clit. Beginning slowly he goes fast. You can’t take it and let go. The feeling going through your veins is pure bliss. 

When you open your eyes you see JungKook licking clean his fingers.

“What did I tell you?”

You use those puppy eyes he isn’t able to resist.

“I’m sorry”

JungKook’s voice and stare is dark as he touches you again.

“Those eyes aren’t gonna save you… Now on all fours princess”

As soon as you hear that, you know you are in trouble. The hard fuck you are about to face make your insides curl but you still wait all excited.


Monty Python - Woody and Tinny Words.