lost speeches

The people who covered up Moonlight’s win by talking about how gracefully the producer’s of La La Land handled the situation need to find a new way to express their casual racism because that moment was not. graceful. 

Almost every moment of that awkward scene was a huge slap to the face, a huge display of disrespect to the cast and crew of Moonlight, who put their heart and souls into their movie only to have their moment stolen from them. And I do mean stolen in the strongest sense of the world. That shit was stolen, on purpose. 

From the very moment that man opened the envelope he knew something was wrong. He knew there was a mistake. He knew he shouldn’t have gone forward, but that woman saw La La Land and never questioned it because obvious and said the name anyway. That was the first hit. 

Then they let the cast and crew come on stage, knowing it was wrong, knowing there was a mistake, knowing the further they let this go the more detrimental it would become. Second hit. 

Jordan Horowitz didn’t know they had lost. He gave his speech as planned and passed the mic along. But halfway through Marc Platt’s speech, they were told. You could see it on their faces. They knew, but didn’t stop him, didn’t say hey this isn’t for us, hey this wasn’t ours. They let him go, they let him have his moment, a moment that wasn’t his. They kept the light from Moonlight so Marc Platt could shine. Third hit. 

Then, the shit they really can’t be forgiven for happened. They let Berger speak. By this time they all knew Moonlight won. They all knew the award wasn’t theirs. But they gave the award to Berger ANYWAY and let him speak ANYWAY. They stole that moment. They knew it wasn’t there’s but decided they’d speak because they had that spotlight anyways. Berger didn’t even tell the audience what he already knew, that they had lost, until after he saw someone come to do it for him.And when he did, he didn’t give the glory to Moonlight, he didn’t say their name or congrats, he just said “We lost, by the way” and prepared to leave the stage with his award. Had Horowitz not stopped all of them and said “No, wait, Moonlight won” that’s what they would have done. They would have taken that moment and run away with it.

Moonlight’s win will forever be overshadowed by this moment, by what the producera did not say when they needed to say it. Grace would have been to tell the truth immediately. Grace would have been to let the audience know the rightful winner. But the producer’s of La La Land tried to give their speeches and leave. That’s not grace, and ya’ll need to stop applauding white people for doing the bare fucking minimum.

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Martin Luther King Jr. the Lost Speech - The Casualties of the Vietnam War

the reason that we are posting this speech is because we have a belief looking at the situation as it exists in politics today that Donald Trump is going to start a war. if he does it will be exactly the same war that Richard Nixon fought in Vietnam. He will do it by sending all minorities and people he considers undesirables. Just like Nixon, Trump will spill poor peoples blood. once again sending minorities off to foreign lands, to fight for those he considers too good to get their hands dirty for America’s RICH ideals. I lived during this time and I can tell you that I know what happened. Yes I followed it intensely as a child and a student. Richard Nixon was exactly who we see today Donald Trump. He is Hateful. He is a separationist. He has no relationship whatsoever to the majority of people in this country. People, who did not vote for Trump. People who he will end up disenfranchising purposely. Do not be deceived Do not look away and do not pretend this is not happening because America you made this. AMERICA you did this Stand up and look at yourself in the mirror. Look at yourselves and be disgusted at what you truly invented this time. Nothing but hate. Nothing but divisiveness. Nothing but pure lies. America this is what you have done now stand up and look at what you are going to have to deal with because you did it.
In the Arms of Justice Pt. 16 (Cop!Bucky Drabble Series)

Characters: reader x Detective Barnes, Natasha, Rumlow. 

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

Warnings: Some anxiety, also blood, murder, weapon and death mentions (none of it graphic), violence against women, gritty police drama tv show kind of feel.

Word Count: 1054

Tags at the bottom 

A/N: I’M BACK, BABY. A thousand apologies that it took so long for me to find my groove and stop being afraid of this fic. heh. I finally tackled it and miraculously, I’m in love with it again! Detective Barnes is back and I’m so excited for what’s ahead. :D Part 17 will be posted Friday, May 19! 

<<<Part 15  Part 16   Part 17>>>  

In the Arms of Justice Series Masterlist

Full Masterlist

_______________________________________________

Originally posted by imagine-that-marvel

Previously:

Entering her office once again, Natasha stepped forward.

“Y/N, this is Mr. Kopecky. His aunt and uncle immigrated from the Czech Republic and he would like to keep them here legally.”

The man was facing away from you, reading the degrees and certificates adorning the esteemed lawyer’s office wall.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Kope…”

As he turned your way, you lost all power of speech, ice freezing in your veins. 

___________________

You remained frozen in place, eyes transfixed on the man who held a knife at your throat two nights ago and now haunted your dreams. Although, if you had passed him on the street you might not have recognized him. Instead of the bleach-blond hair and a clean shaven face, he now wore a knitted cap over a bald head with a few days’ stubble dotting his chin. Horn-rimmed glasses were perched on his nose and he wore khaki trousers with a long-sleeved black sweater and dress shoes. If it weren’t for the cold eyes fixed on yours and the scar on his left cheek, you could have sworn it wasn’t the same man.

Light bruising was visible under his eyes, you noticed as he took a few steps forward. His nose might not have been broken by your head striking it, but you definitely left your mark. Seeing him approach from across the room, you finally thawed enough to stumble to Natasha’s side.

“H-how did he get in here?” you whispered to her, your eyes never leaving his face.

Keep reading

I want you all to know that we are the first line of defense.  If we fail, there won’t be a whole lot anyone else will be able to do.  What I’m trying to say is that failure at this point isn’t really a smart move to make.  We are not to fail, do I make myself absolutely clear?  Failure is bad, it won’t help us in the short term, and it certainly won’t do us any favors in the long run, and I think I’ve lost track of this speech, and I’m not too sure where it’s headed.  But I know where it started and that’s what you’ve got to keep in mind.  Has anyone seen my lightsaber?
—  Anakin, rallying the Clone Troopers
Comfortable

I think this might fall under @leiascully‘s Rest challenge … yeah … I’m gonna slap it under that category and call it a day :)

Also, it’s a post-ep for ‘Millennium’ … 

Enjoy 8^)

&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Mulder hadn’t seen her this weary in a long time … months since she had shadows that dark under her eyes, skin as pale as winter sunshine, lips faded to a hint of the rose they should be. Walking towards him, he stood immediately, taking in her exhaustion with a blinking glance, “hey there.”

She didn’t really answer, more like nodded her head with the illusion of giving a shit that she was upright and mobile. Dropping her bag on the floor by the coat rack and her shoes beside it, she brandished a file folder, tossed it to his lap, missed, didn’t care, ignored the sheaf of paper fanned across the hardwood and crawled, wobbled, swayed, landed face first across his couch.

He didn’t argue, taking in her rapidly encompassing coma state as a sign to keep his mouth shut of any and all sarcastic comments regarding the commandeering of his furniture for her hedonistic napping session. Not caring to move much himself, given his wrapped shoulder and still pulling scabs on his neck, he eventually picked up the folder, glancing through the final report on zombies or reanimated human-like entities before tossing it back to the floor.

He really didn’t give a rat’s fuzzy butt about the case, preferring not to remember it as his apartment fell to the early winter darkness. He wasn’t a fan of fire; he wasn’t a fan of cold; he wasn’t a fan of conspiring assholes and now he knew he definitely wasn’t a fan of reani- … zombies … whatever the hell they were. He mostly just wanted to forget them and enjoy some TV and a nap.

But Scully was in his TV watching spot, face squished into the cushion where he usually sat, the compressed foam perfectly indented to his rear after countless years and which was now cradling his soon-to-be drooling partner, her arm hanging to the floor, hand bent at the wrist, fingerprints pressed to woven striped rug.

And she was fairly cute doing it.

Settling back in the office chair he currently occupied and would occupy for the foreseeable future, he shifted his good arm up, resting his head against his hand, deciding that since he didn’t have a decent angle for the TV now, he’d just watch her.

Turned out to be the best entertainment of the night.

“Mul … ler?”

That startled him a little. She’d been snoring not half a second earlier and he never expected her to say anything.

“Yeah?”

“Muller?”

“Yes, Scully?”

Still not answering, she broke into a grin, her face shifting enough so he could just make out her mouth in full, “Muller.”

By now, his chuckle had emerged, head tilting further to the side to see her better, “Scully.”

Pulling her arm up, she languidly twisted onto her side, back against the back, knees sliding over each other until she settled again, left arm draped over belly, breasts pushed together in tantalizing, nearly spilling out cleavage.

He could see her knees as well.

Shit.

He had a thing for her knees. He’d been watching them peak out from underneath skirts for what felt like decades now and he had been fantasizing about his hand on one of them for just as long. Oddly, he had pictured her on her knees doing … things … to him for nearly as long but those fantasies were nowhere near as frequent as the ones where he simply sat beside her, warm palm cupped over her rounded knee, the beautiful 90-degree joint that carried her beside him everywhere and anywhere without fault and without fail.

He was utterly beguiled and bewildered at the sight of her knees. He’d shake his head to bring himself back to a sense of manly reality but, really, why.

Granted, the cleavage did fight for his attention, don’t get him wrong but tonight, he took his voyeuristic time, enjoying his blue-glowing Scully in all her napping glory, knees out for the world to see.

He chuckled again at the realizing that he was so far under her spell, it was shocking he could still function at all in society.

Then again, his society for the time being, consisted of Scully and zombies.

He gave himself five more minutes before forcing himself to stand, go to the kitchen, silently find some dinner, forget his partner on the couch in order to take a deep breath, sort his head back to the here and now.

“Muller?”

Like a snapping rubber band, he was back at her side before he knew his feet were moving, “Scully?”

This time, though, her eyes were open, staring up at him, confused and squinty, “am I hungry?”

“I … I don’t know.” Giving her a soft smile, “I was just making myself some food. You got here about an hour ago so you probably are hungry. It’s after 7.”

Time stamp sinking in, “hey, we’re missing ‘Wheel of Fortune’.”

God, he really should just propose now and get it over with, “want to find the channel and I’ll heat up whatever the hell isn’t nasty in my fridge?”

Hand already digging in the cushions for the remote, “deal.”

Sooner than later, they were buried deep in the couch, Mulder’s feet on the coffee table, Scully’s tucked underneath her, knee touching his thigh and blanket haphazardly thrown over them, empty plates near his toes. As they waited for the final ‘Jeopardy’ clue, Mulder debated whether it was time.

Scully chose action over debate.

Reaching towards him, she quietly gripped his pinkie finger and slowly dragged his hand from his leg to hers, stopping once her knee rounded out his palm.

In answer, he slid a little further down in the cushions, elbow resting on her upper thigh and fingers curved more securely around the sacred bones.

Mulder left it there through the last question, through two episodes of something he didn’t have the capacity to pay attention to because Scully was real and beside him, only one layer of blanket between skin on skin. Then, around nine, he gathered boldness from points unknown and deftly moved from above blanket to below, back to knee, heat on heat, watching her out the corner of his eye and relaxing when he saw the smallest of smiles curve her lip.

He was golden tonight.

And he sure as hell wasn’t going to push it.

Soon, cliched date night situations aside, her head landed on his shoulder, the credit music of ‘West Wing’ filling the room as she quietly asked, “would you mind if I stayed here tonight?”

“Of course not. Tired?”

“Yeah … but …” he could hear the hesitation beating the space between them, “mostly I … I’m comfortable and don’t want to go home right now.”

Squeezing her leg, he moved to stand, “let me go find you something to sleep in.”

She let him stand, missing him instantly and watched him trek away, sling band across his back, gait stilting slightly because a jostling walk sent pains through his unhealed bones. Following seconds later, she stood in his bedroom doorway, blanket over her shoulders, “anything is fine.”

Turning, “why’d you get up? You said you were comfortable on the couch?”

“No, I said I was comfortable.” Stepping closer, her eyes twinkled and sparked, “I’m comfortable with you and with your hand on me and being in this apartment and I don’t want to go home. There’s a difference between that and not wanting to get up from the couch to follow you.”

After keeping his grin to mere epic proportions, he gathered a t-shirt and some sweatpants, handing them to her after he moved to stand in front, “here you go and does that mean you’re not ready to go to sleep yet? Should we go see what else we can find to watch?”

Nodding, “go start looking while I change.” Quick like bunny, she came back into the living room and Mulder lost his powers of speech. Looking from her bare knees and the bottom of the shirt he gave her, which fell an inch above the aforementioned knees, to her face, she laughed as she settled back beside him, blanket once again over them, his hand moving under the blanket and back to its spot with little hesitation, “I’ll put the pants on before I go to sleep.”

&&&&&&&&&&

The next morning, with the blinds closed and the sunlight non-existent behind layers of gray cloud, she didn’t wake up until after eight and that was only because an especially exuberant burble from the fish tank invading her senses. Ignoring the clock, she puttered around the place while she made tea and found a box of semi-expired PopTarts, settling on the couch once again to have her breakfast before she decided to give any kind of thought to work. Mulder ventured forth halfway through her second cup, hair askew and shirt twisted under his immobilizer. Attempting and failing to straighten himself out, he dropped beside her, “when did you wake up and do you know you’re late for work?”

Doing her best not to spew forth a torrent of crumbs when she answered him, “woke up 20 minutes ago and not too sure I care about work today. How are you?”

Taking the bite of PopTart she offered him, he chewed thoughtfully, “better because you’re here.”

“I meant your shoulder but thank you.”

“You make everything better, shoulder included.”

Moving the blanket to cover his legs as well, mirroring the night before, she watched him put his hand back under the blanket, his eyebrows raising when he ran into skin instead of flannel, “still no pants, young lady?”

“Nope.”

“You should play hooky with me and not wear any pants at all.”

Pretending to debate, she tucked the blanket in closer under her legs and wiggled against him, “you should find me some cartoons. Flintstones if possible … or Scooby-Doo.”

With a non-chalant and non-presumptuous kiss to the top of her head, “I love you and your cartoony, pantsless ways.”

“I love you and your expired PopTart owning ways.”

Finding the Flintstones on some backend cable channel, “today is going to be a good day.”

Already planning a nap, probably in Mulder’s bed and probably not alone, “a very good day.”

Barba’s Co-counsel

A/N: Anon request: Can I request a Rafael Barba one shot thingy where you (Barba’s co-counsel) gets death threats as well and someone acts on them and you get stabbed around the same time Dodds is shot. Overall angst and fluff.
Thank you @minidodds and @larkistin for your much appreciated input. Enjoy guys!


“How do you find the defendant?” Judge Barth asked.

“We, the jury, find the defendant guilty,” the foreperson announced.

You cheered inwardly, glancing over at Rafael Barba, your co-counsel. He nodded his approval.

“Want to grab a drink to celebrate?” you asked Rafael.

“Okay, but there is something I should tell you first,” Rafael said, somewhat conspiratorially.

He led the way to his office, his eyes darting around nervously as you walked.

“Rafael, is everything alright?” you asked.

The two of you had only been working together briefly and it was amazing how in sync you were, almost as if you could read each other’s thoughts. In this time, you had also learnt to read his expressions fairly accurately, or so you had thought.

Rafael ushered you into his office and closed the door, pulling the blinds closed.

“We need to talk.”

Keep reading

(shitty edit courtesy of yours truly)

Title: First Date

Pairing: Peter Maximoff (XMCU) x Reader

Warnings: Peter being a goof, excess fluff, lots of cuteness

For @candycountries, the sweetest little maple leaf. Thank you for believing in my writing, even when I don’t 💚

Based off the song First Date by Blink-182 & the endless Peter discussions I have with @candycountries


It was Date Night & Peter was nervous as Hell. You & Peter had began dating a few weeks ago, but this was your first official date. He wanted to make sure it was perfect, but his nerves were getting the best of him. He was parked outside your living area on campus, waiting anxiously for you. You were both professors at Xavier’s, although you were a new professor. Peter had been teaching Physics at Xavier’s for about 3 years now & you had began teaching earlier this year, just a few months ago.

You were a shy & quiet person, not really socializing with many professors, aside from Charles & Hank. You only really talked to your students & the rest of the time, you just graded & kept to yourself.

Peter, on the other hand, although shy as well, was very sociable & loved talking to others. He was a favorite among the students & the professors & it didn’t take long for the good word about the cute (& single 👀) Physics professor to come your way. Even so, you didn’t dare try talking to him for free of making a bad first impression. Thus, you kept your distance.

This drove Peter absolutely mad because he definitely noticed you & he was eager to chat up the gorgeous new professor. He tried his best to get to know you, but you instinctively shut him out & conversations with him were minimal. This all changed; however, during Xavier’s annual Halloween Bash.

You & Peter had been assigned chaperones to the dance, which means you both had to watch all the kids, dress up for the evening, & talk to each other so you could work as a team & not be bored out of your minds while the students had fun & you supervised them.

You came out of your shell a bit more that night, just because Halloween was your favorite holiday & it always made you feel secure because you could be whoever you wanted to be, even your true self, without fear of being judged.

Peter noticed how more at ease you were & he took full advantage of it. He chatted you up all night, cracking jokes & shamelessly flirting with you. He relished every laugh & blush you gave him in return. By the end of the night, you were much more comfortable around him & you’d developed a stronger friendship than you had previously.

Unfortunately, the night was coming to an end: the younger kids were heading to bed, the older ones were going with Charles & Hank into the woods nearby for a spooky campfire, & you & Peter were left to help clean up the dance room. It was an absolute mess, but with Peter’s speed, it was getting cleaned up in no time. Or, at least, it would have, if Peter hadn’t stopped to impress you with a crude & joking strip tease to Thriller, which had you nearly dying of laughter.

Later that night, when you & Peter went to supervise the campfire, Peter romanced you under the stars & asked you out officially, to which you agreed to.

Fast forward back to the current day, where Peter was still waiting anxiously in his car for you. He checked his watch for the nth time that afternoon, keeping his eyes glued to your door afterwards.

Finally, after what seemed like ages, you finally emerged. Peter couldn’t help but stare at you because you looked so different, so at ease, so comfortable. You were dressed more casually instead of the usual professional garb you wore when you taught class. He was dressed similarly in his favorite casual wear, instead of the more clean-cut outfits he wears for lecture.

He smiled widely at you as you got into the passenger seat, his cheeks flushing a little as he did so, “Hi.”

You returned his smile as you put on your seatbelt, leaning closer to press a soft kiss to his cheek, “Hi, thank you for taking me out today.”

His cheeks flushed darker & he lost all power of speech, simply from that little kiss.

He was already done for, & the date had barely begun.

Aside from the initial awkwardness & shell shock from your kiss, the rest of the car ride went smoothly. You both made idle conversation & you attempted to press Peter as to where he was taking you, but he was intent on keeping it a secret. In all honesty, he didn’t want to tell you because he was worried you’d laugh at him & find the date idea childish & stupid. So, he figured he’d take you there & if you hated it, he’d pretend he was joking about that being the date location & resort to Plan B, which was a movie.

As he neared the date location, his anxiety steadily increased to the point where when he finally reached the date designation, his heart was practically going to burst from how fast it was beating.

You looked out the window before looking back at him with an amused expression, “You brought me to the arcade for our first date?”

He swallowed nervously, “Um…yes?”

You grinned, “How did you know I can play a mean game of Galaga & DDR?”

“You do? I mean pfft yeah I soooo knew that duh!”

“Then you also know that I’m going to kick your ass & win more tickets, right?”

“Ooooh honey, if you think you can beat me, then you’ve got another thing coming.”

“Bring it on, Maxipad.”

He held a hand to his heart in mock hurt, “Be careful what you dish out, babe, because I’m dishing it right back.”

Peter knew right then & there you were the one because no one had ever outsassed him like that before.

He did; however, prove to be the better gamer & kicked your ass at nearly every game, aside from skee-ball, which he had purposely let you win. You of course, knew this, & challenged him to a rematch, but he just let you win again anyway. By the end of the day, the two of you (mostly him) had acquired enough tickets to win the grand prize, which you were very eager to obtain. It was the latest Atari game system, which you were dying to have, but you weren’t about to spend the thousands of tickets Peter earned on a prize for yourself.

“You should pick something,” you told him as the flustered guy at the ticket counter counted all your tickets, “you won most of these tickets, it’s only fair that you pick the prize.”

He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion & surprise, “What? No, I want you to pick the prize, as my gift to you for giving me a chance & coming on this date with me.”

“Peter,” you sighed, a bit taken aback by the sweet gesture, “that’s really sweet, but they’re your tickets. You should pick the prize.”

He playfully glared at you, “Listen, this is less tickets than I usually win. I can come back any time & win double this in a few hours. Seriously, I insist: pick something.”

You sighed, biting your lip as you continued to feel guilty, “Okay, how about this, we both pick something?” that way it’s fair.“

He pursed his lips, weighing the option before nodding in agreement, “You’ve got a deal.”

You smiled, “Great, you pick first.”

He pretended to weigh his options before he made his decision, “I’ll have that sickass looking gecko,” he pointed to the prize & you glared at him when you realized how much it cost: one ticket.

The ticket counter gave Peter the little toy gecko & he grinned before placing it on the side rim of his glasses, “Alright babe, your pick!”

You sighed & gave in, picking the Atari game system, which cost the remainder of the game tickets. Peter hoped he would never forget that glorious smile that made its way onto your face when the ticket counter gave you your prize.

As you both excitedly made your way back to his car, you were quick to gently set the game system on your seat & grab Peter’s hand before he could race to the other side to open his door. Before he could react, you grabbed his shirt collar & pulled his lips down onto yours in an adoring kiss.

He squeaked in surprise, completely shocked by your sudden display of affection, but was quick to reciprocate. He let his hands rest gently on your waist, squeezing your hips a little as you deepend the kiss. When you pulled away, he had the biggest, dopiest smile on his face & he pushed his glasses up his nose, which were fogged up. You laughed at how cute he was, adjusting the gecko, which was barely clinging onto his glasses, “I really hope you were also included with the Atari system because you are definitely a grand prize,” with that, you gave him another quick & final kiss before you got into the car.

He tried to recompose himself as he closed your door for you, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding before mouthing a quiet “Wow” to himself as his cheeks reddened at your unexpected compliment.

The cute Physics Professor at Xavier’s was now the cute, completely taken Physics Professor & he was more than happy to spread the news when you both got back from your successful first date.


Tagging: @v-writings & @dragon-chica (hope you guys don’t mind being tagged! I thought you both would enjoy more Professor!Peter 💚)

Mr. Osterfield / Haz Drabble

Pairing: Haz x Reader

Featuring: Harrison Osterfield

Warning: fluff, angst?, kissing and such. SLIGHT smut

Request - 37 and 50 with Haz xx

37 - “I like it when you look at me like that. Biting your lip and everything.”

50 - “Beg for it.”

Originally posted by hazosterfield

The door shut loudly behind you as you entered the apartment, your face going into a grimace, knowing you probably woke your boyfriend. Creeping along the hallway, you didn’t turn on any lights as you made your way into the kitchen, afraid of disturbing his sleep. Though, when you walked in, there your boyfriend stood. In nothing but his joggers, his hair an unruly mess - you guessed he had just gotten out of bed.

“Harrison?” You asked softly, staring at your boyfriend in confusion. He looked up from the mug he held in his hands, his eyes looked tired.

Keep reading

Lol I meant to post this yesterday, but I am an official high school graduate!

Caretaker - Bucky x Reader(f)

NOTES/WARNINGS: Broken bones, fluff

AUTHORS NOTES: One of my shorter fics but I loved all of the fluff in this!

PROMPT: Thanks to @thisisthelilith for this great prompt!

 The reader breaks her wrist on a mission and Bucky won’t let her do anything (i.e. pick things up, open things, carry things etc.) even though she can do most things.

Originally posted by enochianess

 

 You grunted as you tried to twist open the peanut butter, but with a broken wrist it was a hopeless attempt. You squirmed against the counter as you tried to hold the jar against your chest with your elbow.

 Last weeks mission to Italy had been successful but you came home with a broken wrist. There had been some confusion on the field and you accidentally punched Bucky right in the red star of his metal arm, breaking your wrist in two places and cracking a few knuckles.  

 You grinned when you remembered just how upset he had been. He rushed you back to the Quinjet, apologizing profusely, and insisted that you not move the entire flight back. He was kind of cute when he was worried about you. You have had worse injuries before but this one did suck.

 Bucky walked into the kitchen and quickly threw his bag of food on the table before rushing up behind you.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” He asked as he snatched the jar from you.

 “I’m making a sandwich…or at least I was trying to before you jumped in.” You rolled your eyes.

 “(Y/N), I told you I’ll take care of you. Just let me know what you need.” He put the peanut butter away and started cleaning up what little you had out in your attempt to do things on your own.

 “Buck, I can make my own food.”

 “Yeah, not by the looks of it.” He scoffed and put the bread back in the pantry.

 “Well, I almost had it open.”

 “I bought us Chinese, anyways. Way better than PB&J.” He winked.

 You walked over to the bag on the table and started to pull out the small, white boxes.

 “Ah-ah-ah!” Bucky was on your heel and took over for what seemed like the billionth time since you got your cast on.

 “Ugh! Buck, I can do it!” You rubbed your face with what small amount of fingers stuck out of your hard cast.

 “But I don’t want you to!” He smiled. He gave you, what you now called, the “Dollface” smile. The one Steve said he used to use in the 40’s to get dames to go out with him, the one that made all the ladies melt.

 “Don’t. Don’t you smile at me like that, James Barnes. I am a grown woman and I will take care of my self!” You stomped your foot and crossed your arms awkwardly. This cast wasn’t helping you look as determined as you felt.

 Bucky cupped your face in his hands and smiled down at you. “Sorry, not gonna happen.” He kissed your forehead and you smacked his chest with your good hand. “Ow, what was that for?”

 “Your treating me like I’m plagued. I was reminding you that I can still kick your-”

 “Language!” Steve called from the living room.

 “So, I can’t make my own food and I now I’ve lost the freedom of speech? What am I allowed to do?” You huffed, throwing your arms up then dropping them to your sides with a slap.

 Suddenly you were cradled in Bucky’s arms. “You can come watch movies with me.” He grinned. He grabbed the take out and carried you to the living room. He made you sit in his lap all night as you ate and watched movies with Steve until finally, you fell asleep cuddled up against him.

 Steve smiled at Bucky silently.

 “What?” Bucky whispered, tenderly rubbing your arm to make sure you were warm enough.

 Steve smirked and shook his head. “I’m just glad you finally got yourself a steady girl.”

 Bucky smiled and placed his lips lightly on the top of your head, careful to not disturb your rest. Steve was right and Bucky finally admitted to himself that you were definitely the one.


Hope you liked it! Feel free to send in any requests!

Also let me know if you’d like to be added to my tag list :) (or removed, I wont be offended)

@tatortot2701 ​ @whimsicalrebirth  @heismyhunter @pickledmoon

  • [before the final battle]
  • Eredin: I want you all to know that we are the first line of defense. If we fail, there won’t be a whole lot anyone else will be able to do. What I’m trying to say is that failure at this point isn’t really a smart move to make. We are not to fail, do I make myself absolutely clear? Failure is bad, it won’t help us in the short term, and it certainly won’t do us any favors in the long run, and I think I’ve lost track of this speech, and I’m not too sure where it’s headed. But I know where it started and that’s what you’ve got to keep in mind. Has anyone seen my sword?
  • Caranthir: [whispering] sweet maker, give us strength.

anonymous asked:

Senario with link and a chibi revali? Like a potion Zelda fucked up on and revali drank it without really knowing what it was.

Link grumbles to himself as he trails Revali around the castle. Revali was sent by Zelda to find the Hylian Champion who was hiding from her to avoid another science experiment. But suddenly, she was nowhere to be found.

Revali knocked on the door to her study where she resided in previously. “Zelda? I found him. Are you still here?” He was greeted with silence and Link grinned. “Oh don’t look so relieved, I’m waiting here with you until she returns.” Revali smirks. “I can’t wait to see what happens to you this time.” Revali pushes open the doors and wanders in, followed by Link. The two stare in awe at the amount of work she’s put in to her studies.

“How can you be so rude and not help her in her hard work?” Revali asks, walking over to her desk. He picks up a glass of still warm tea that smelled like flowers. “She invests her all into this and you grumble and pout because you have to eat something. You do that already, what’s another?” He continues, taking a sip of the tea.

Link flips through her field journal and admires the various drawings of frogs and flowers before looking over to Revali. Immediately, his eyes widen in shock and strides over to Revali who was lost in his own speech. He looks to the latter champion and he tilts his head in confusion, waving his hand above his own head and barely touching the top of Revali’s.

“Why are you so tall?” Revali scoffs. “Did you eat something? You’re getting taller.” He pauses and gulps. “The room is getting taller….I’m getting shorter.”

Link turns to hide his reddening face. His body quivering from containing his laughter, Revali finally drops the glass he was holding, his now tiny hands unable to grip the cup any longer. “Not. A. Word.” Revali hisses.

-mod makar

I’m so proud of them. 6 years ago, Tyler wasn’t sure if Twenty One Pilots was going to work out. He wasn’t sure if he was meant to make or play music. Everything seemed like it was crashing down on him and he felt like there was no light at the end of the tunnel. He was ready to give up, but he didn’t. He pushed through his droughts. And now, 6 years later, him and his best friend are playing sold out shows all over the world, 2 of which include Madison Square Gardens. They did it. 

They aren’t the only ones who did it. You did it, too. You used their music to help you through rough times. You helped this band get to where they are today by supporting them and their music. When you make it out to a show, you decided it was worth it to keep going. Their shows are rooms full of people who all decided it was worth it to keep going. Tyler decided it was worth it to keep going. And look where he is today. 

We did it.