man in barrel


Facts about Drinking in the Middle Ages

Beer is one of the oldest drinks in the world. For centuries, beer-making fell into the realm of women and taking care of the home. The decline of female brewers in the 17th century is related to witch hunting (alewives wore distinctive point tall hats and brewed large amounts of beer in large vessels).

Here are some facts about beer in the Middle Ages, by a beer expert and a medieval curator

1) Beer-making was part of life in the Middle Ages. Calendars center on making of bread and making of beer in the Labors of the Month.

2) This detail from a prayer book shows a man making a barrel. In the Middle Ages, “your prayers begin and end with the thought of drink.”

3) MYTH: People in the Middle Ages drank beer and wine because of lack of access to water. It was more complicated than that—the relationship to consuming fluids was related to health and your body’s fluid.

4) Humoral theory was a system of medicine developed in antiquity that taught that the human body contained a mix of four humors: black bile, yellow bile, blood, and phelgm. In medieval times, you’d go to the alchemist and based on your zodiac sign and your ailment, you might be told a certain fluid is off balance.

5) It was also thought that the position of the planets and the moon could affect the body.

6) Cups, goblets, and drinking horns were trendy in the Middle Ages. 

7) Many contained messages or encouraged drinking. One in the Getty Museum collection reads, “Welcome to my house. Put me to your lips and drink me dry. Don’t take contentment away.”

How I imagine the ego's interact:

Anti: “Guys, it’s obvious, they all like ME the best!”

Dr. Schneeple: *adjusts his glasses, squints, and mutters “zis mothafucka” to himself* “Anti, as a doctah, I can confirm zat head is most definitely far up own ass!”

Chase Brody: *dabs into the room* “Ha, dudes, they all obviously love ME the most! They’re always going on about "Anti better leave Chase alone!” and shit!“

Anti: ”….why the fuck are you even an ego, Chase"

Chase: “Go fuck yourself, Glitch Bitch”

Anti: *trying not to cry*

Jackieboy Man: *barrel rolls into the room, hits head off of wall* “OW, JESUS, FUCK!”

Anti, Dr. Schneeple, Chase: “Jackieboy Man, no, just stop”

Marvin The Magnificent: *poofs into the room* “Bet you fucks wish you could do that!”

*Anti, Dr. Schneeple, Jackieboy Man, and Marvin all proceed to fight and yell*

Jack: *walks into the room and sighs* “Guys, again, really?”

*They all stop fighting and yelling and look at Jack*

Anti: *drags his finger across his throat, looking directly at Jack*

Jack: *intense flashbacks* *clears his throat* “Right, carry on then! BYE!”

Can’t Take the Heat | Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

request: Can you do something where you are tony starks daughter and you are part of the avengers but you are pretty new to it all like peter and when you go to fight together you get really hurt? mixed with Idk if you would take this request but can u write some headcannons about peter dating someone with fire powers? I love your writing so much! Thank you <3

warnings: injury, near death, cursing

word count: 2173


Originally posted by hardyness

You pace up and down the aisle of the personal jet buzzing with thinly contained excitement.

“Hey, hey! Y/N, baby calm down you’re sparking.” Your boyfriend Peter suddenly shouts, gesturing wildly with his hands. You snap out of your daze and raise a hand to inspect it. He’s right, your fingertips are gleaming a sunset orange and small fireworks spark off of them.

“Right, sorry.” You apologize, flushing almost as red as your fingertips with embarrassment. Peter flashes you a nervous smile and gingerly takes your palm.

“You know I love it when you get fiery,” he winks at you, “It’s just we are above the clouds in a big steel thing and if it catches fire we are sort of screwed.” He references your flaming ability, and you can’t help but roll your eyes (even though you know he’s right).

“We are really doing this Pete! We are going on a mission. Sure it’s just a group of some guys who medically enhanced themselves to have animal powers and they have some alien tech, but I mean something isn’t nothing.” You speak extremely quickly.

“What do you mean just some medically enhanced guys with alien weapons?” Peter scoffed at you. You shrug and fall back into the plush first class level recliner.

“I mean it’s not Ultron but I’m ready!” You are chomping at the bit to get going, your dad, Tony (also known as Iron Man), never let you go on missions before. His excuse was always that you needed more training.

“Y/N, I know you’re excited. And I know you can handle yourself, but this is real and dangerous. You cannot go in there to cocky.” Peter is cautious saying this because he knows that you can get hotheaded when someone tells you no.

Sucking in a deep breath you reply, “I know, but I can handle myself, hell I can shoot fire out of my hands.” You felt the mischievous smile spread on your face and you imagined yourself soaring next to your dad in the brand new suit he made you to harness your powers and better focus them.

You don’t notice Peter’s smile falter as he thinks about how new you are to this. He has been worried all week, usually he’s excited for a new avengers mission but this time was different. The girl he loved was coming and she was fresh out of the oven.

You leaned down and pulled at the handle on the bottom of your seat, a small box of chilled waters appeared and you grabbed one hastily. Lifting the bottle to your parched lips you heard the hiss of steam before you felt it on your cheeks.

“Okay, I really do need to calm down.” You admitted coyly to Peter, batting your eyelashes innocently so that he wouldn’t get all worried again.

Glancing out the window you noticed the plane begin to dip and suddenly a ding alerted you and peter to the coming announcement, “We are descending, everybody suit up and be ready for ground transport to our location.” Your father’s voice boomed through the little cabin. You felt your eyes go wide and you swung your body to face Peter’s.

“Alright, let’s go.” He says to you, taking in a steadying breath and standing up, suit in hand.

“Not so fast spider-boy, hop out. I’m changing in here, you go change with Clint.” Natasha bursts through the door and grabs Peter by the scruff of his neck, practically tossing him out of the cabin.

You shot Peter an apologetic smile and then turned to face the malevolent general with a snarl, “Tash, what the hell? It’s not like we were going to have sex.”

Natasha raises a single eyebrow, “Too bad I don’t care. You’re like my little sister and I don’t want a smelly boy seeing your goods.” You roll your eyes but smile at the jovial relationship you have.

You and Peter sit nervously holding hands as Happy drives you toward the battle. A fleet of cars and motorcycles are transporting everyone and you are suspicious of why Happy was here. You figure your dad has him here in case he wants you removed from the battle.

The car suddenly stops and you hear a screeching, “That’s your cue,” Happy says turning around, “Be careful Y/N, Peter.” Both of you solemnly nod. Peter leans over and opens the door on his side before taking your hand and guiding you out.

“Let’s go.” Peter whispers and begins to run, you steel yourself and engage your boosters causing you to lift off the ground.

As you lift higher in the air you can see about 15 men all walking far to slowly toward your group. One man has an arm that is replaced by a purple glowing blaster the size of your lower body.

“Spidey on your left!” You shout as you see a huge chunk of cement go flying from across the lot. You blast it to make it smaller and he expertly avoids it. You change course and choose to get closer to the 3 men farthest right, one is abnormally large and has stripes like a tiger all across his upper body. The other two look identical and seem to be half made of metal.

Your dad is fighting alongside the Hulk and Peter is still coming slightly slower because he is swinging his way here. You dive-bomb the first man and get a right hook in, but he is prepared and immediately kicks you 10 feet away. One of the other guys charges a blast where your chest would be but you duck down in the last second.

Powering up you blast at the third man and shoot fire at him, it scorches his body and you feel proud because you finally got the upper hand. But as the fire melts away metal covers his injuries, making him more indestructible.

“Hey!” Peter shouts and shoots a web around the man’s legs and tosses him against a wall where he webs him up. You give him a nod of thanks and return to the first man who is barreling at you.

“Little bitch, come here.” He shouts. You duck just in time to avoid a punch and then sock him in the stomach. You go to blast him but he grabs your wrist, you try fire again but it seems to just hover over him.

“Not so tough anymore?” He asks you in a growl. Fear must be written across your face as he crushes the metal on your wrists and throws it aside. He raises a large fist and swings it down with such force that you hardly feel the hit in your abdomen and instead feel the impact of your back on the same wall the other man was webbed on.

“Oopsie” You hear in your ear, and that’s when it registers that you didn’t hit the wall, you hit the webbed man, who is no longer webbed. He grips your shoulders and smashes you to the ground placing one hand squarely on your left shoulder and then using his whole weight and pushing down. You hear a sickening crack and feel excruciating heat rush into your shoulder.

Then he stands and stomps on your leg causing your vision to go completely white, laughing as he hears you cry out in pain. Black and silver stars dance in your vision but you feel his weight leave your body, somebody is fighting him.

But before you can get your bearings you manage to make out the gun on the arm of the large man you saw before aimed right at your stomach. A blast sounds and everything goes dark.

The next minutes come in flashes. You hear Steve screaming for your father.

“Baby, please. I never should have let you come.” Your dad.

“No. no no.” Peter.

You can vaguely hear the battle continuing, but honestly you feel next to nothing, it is as though you were floating 3 feet above yourself and underwater.

“Peter, you’re done. Take her to the car and get to a hospital, NOW.” You hear your father delegate responsibility to Peter.

“Of-of course.” Peter sounds shocked, determined, terrified, and crushed all at the same time. You feel his strong arms secure themselves around you and you squeal in pain as he lifts you, your leg and shoulder are unavoidable.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Peter whispers to you. “I’m going to take care of you, please don’t leave me. Fight Y/N. I’m taking care of you.” His voice is desperate but you suddenly can’t remember why he is upset.

The next thing you hear is the slamming of a car door and the familiar tone that Happy always has when he is concerned about you, “Alright, why don’t you immobilize her injuries with your webs, let’s get her to a hospital.” That is the last thing you hear before it all just goes silent for good.

Your eyelids feel like they have barbells holding them down and got one thousand tiny paper cuts. You can hear the labored breathing of someone sleeping near you. Your head is pounding and you can hear your pulse hitting against your skull.

The events leading up to this pain come flooding back to you: the battle, your shoulder and leg, tiger man, the gun, Peter carrying you, passing out. Despite the pain, you force your tired lids to open, revealing a far too bright hospital room. Blinking the sleep out and adjusting to the bright light you try to lift your head, sending a shock of pain through your shoulder. 

The sharp intake of breath wakes up the person snoozing next to you, “Baby girl?” You hear your father’s desperate voice.

“Daddy?” Your voice crackles, it must be weird from disuse. Your father’s bearded face and red eyes come into view. He looks haggard like he’s been crying and hasn’t slept in a week.

He leans over and hits the call button for the nurse. “Dad can I sit up?” You ask him, he nods and uses the button pad on the side of your bed to bring you upright.

The nurse comes running in and begins running tests on you like a fiend. You note to yourself that it’s weird that she’s working so rushed. When she’s done she takes a deep breath and turns to your father, “She’s a miracle, we need to keep monitoring her but trillion to one you know.” She shoots you a smile and leaves you two to talk.

“Dad what happened?” You ask him, suddenly concerned. He goes on to tell you that they crushed 4 of your ribs, broke your leg and shattered your shoulder, fractured your collarbone, and finally got a concussion. You do have slightly accelerated healing abilities but it wasn’t looking good and you’ve been out for 4 days. Basically, they thought they were biding the days until you died.

“Dad, I need to see Peter.” You tell him once you finish talking. “Why hasn’t he visited me?” You can’t conceal the pain in your voice, only this time it’s not about the physical stuff.

“Baby, no one was allowed in but me, he’s been sleeping in the chairs all week. Let me go get him.” You are thankful that he understands that you need to see him, especially because you almost died and he could easily say just him and you right now.

You lift your hand and inspect the cuts and bruises all over it. You are prodding different parts of your body when Peter comes sprinting in. He smiles when he sees you looking at him but it melts almost immediately when he sees the rest of you. “Peter” You call for him, he comes to your side immediately and gingerly takes your hand.

“I stayed.” You whisper in his ear as a tear leaks out of his eye. He nods with a quivering lip.

“I-I thought you were going to die, we all did.” He sounds so broken and sad. But you lift his chin so that he is looking you in the eyes.

“I’m here, and I’m not dead. But I am very injured, so I’m expecting a lot of healing kisses and treats and teddy bears.” You decided to make light of the situation because it was more you than being angsty and sad.

“I will buy you every chocolate on the planet and get you a teddy bear for every minute we are together, and I should probably get started on those kisses.” He smiled at you and leaned down to place an extremely light kiss on your forehead.

“Well that’s not what I meant!”


(tags under the cut)

Keep reading

Ripples - Part 1

Synoposis: What happens when you wake up married to Steve Rogers in a Las Vegas hotel suite? Especially when you have feelings for his best friend and his best friend has feelings for you? Only time can tell.

Reader X Steve Rogers X Bucky Barnes

Warnings: Language for now. SMUT down the road, but not the first chapter :) 

A/N: I was watching The Hangover and read a great story by @imhereforbvcky and was inspired. Going to make this a series because choosing between Bucky and Steve is literally one of my internal conflicts.

This first Part will capture everyone’s perspective and afterwards each part will be in a particular character’s voices.

Tag List: @sidneycrosbysdick, @denialanderror @sexylibrarian1

Tags are open for the moment!

The harsh, bright rays of the Nevada desert shone into the small hotel room, slowly making its way over two distinct bodies. One of them was solid and strong, the defined muscles relaxed as an arm draped across the second body, smaller and softer. The first groaned, shifting in its stiff movements  before waking up,  allowing the remnants of the Asgardian ale to take one final course through his body. How much he had drank the night before to allow the effects of the ale to linger in his system was unknown to him as he shifted, becoming very aware of the warm body next to him.

His eyes popped open as he took in the soft features of the woman beside him.


Steve Rogers became very aware of the cool sheets draping over his naked body, the same sheets that were draped over your own.

No, no, no.

The words ring in his head as he sits up in bed, allowing his eyes a second to adjust before he realizes he’s not waking up to his room in the tower. Instead of the navy blue walls greeting him, he is awarded with cream walls wallpapered with gold swirl designs.  He scans the room - bottle of champagne, a tux lying idly on the floor, a wedding dress on top of that…..

He stops. A wedding dress?

He looks down at his left hand and sure enough a simple gold band dones his left ring finger, glistening under the soft light..


He articulates the words booming behind his drunken stupor, startling you awake and you moan, shifting your head so that the sunlight can’t ruin your sleep, the throbbing in your head unmoving.

“Steve, please don’t make me monitor your trainings this morning. I feel like I drank a gallon of really cheap tequila.”

You give a heavy sigh before your eyes pop open.


You sit up quickly, instantly regretting the movement as Steve stares at you, his rich blue eyes flicking down at your chest before he quickly shifts and turns the other way, a blush adorning his chiseled cheeks.  You’re confused for only a second before you’re aware of the cold air hitting your chest and you look down to see the thin, cotton sheets slipping down your body, your nipples taunt from the movement.

Panic sets in and you lift the sheets higher, grabbing for the thick comforter laying at the bottom of the bed in embarrassment.

Why were you naked lying next to Steve. You look at him and notice he’s just as naked as you and you close your eyes, trying to remember the events from last night.  

“What…what happened?” you finally ask trying to calm your heartbeat, confused on how to digest what the clues were pointing at.

Steve sighs, his back toward you and you can’t help but admire the way his muscles contract with the breath. Then you shake your head of the thought, causing more pain in your head and you groan, bending down to rub your temples.

“….I…..I don’t know. I don’t remember.”

He looks over his shoulders at you, worry in his eyes.

“I don’t think we’re at the Tower though. Unless you choose this very posh decor for your room?”

His voice is hopeful and you will yourself to look up, trying to digest your surroundings. You look around the room, your trained eyes going through the same process Steve’s had and you feel the panic attack stampeding toward you like warriors going to battle. You knew where you were.

“….we’re in Vegas.”

He groans, placing his head in his hands.

“That explains a lot.”

“Does it?” you give a half mocked laugh, trying to find some humour - any humour in the situation. This couldn’t be happening to you. You were just a simple- highly trained assassin gone assistant to Tony Stark and The Avengers team. Not a young, reckless girl who went to Vegas to have random hook up sex.

Steve looks back at you, his perfectly chiseled jaw set as he mumbles,

“That’s not even the best part,” he lifts his left hand, revealing a gold band that glitters in the sunlight. “I think we might be married.”

That was all you needed. You think about all the things that make you happy. Ice cream. Laying on the beach on a hot summer day. Reading a good book during a rainstorm. It isn’t enough to contain your body from shaking as you lift your left hand, praying to god that he was wrong.  

The gold band compliments your delicate ring finger and glistens like Steve’s in the sunlight. Your breathing stops, the irregular huffs causing Steve to furrow his brow in concern and he turns into you now, no longer ashamed of your nakedness as he wraps his arms around you.  

Even in a crisis Steve could be relied on to support you.

“Steve…how…what..and…” you were going to throw up. You were going to throw up - that was it. Steve’s hold tightens around you and you feel the way his chest rises and falls against your own, trying to ignore the way his touch made you want to explore more of him. Though you weren’t going to say it, you both were thinking the same thing.

What the hell were you going to tell Bucky.

James ‘Bucky’ Barnes stood in the living room of the Avengers tower, a cup of coffee that had long gone cold in his hands as he watched the sun rise. He gave a deep sigh as he heard the faint sound of heels clicking toward him, stopping once they hit the living room.

He knew that the young blonde was waiting on him to say something - offer breakfast, get her number, anything - but he had wanted her gone the moment he realized the dumb mistake he had made. He only mumbled,

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. - can you escort our guest off of the property. Call a cab for her.”

The supercomputer responded yes and he knew the woman was angry, the quick sound of her heels carrying her to the elevator. He gave a sigh of relief, sipping the cold dark coffee as he tried to collect his thoughts.

He had to figure out how to admit to what had happened without ruining his relationship with Y/N. He hadn’t realized how much he had cared about you until he saw you last night, the sapphire body con dress drawing him into the essence that could only be described as you. The night had started well. You had walked to him directly, checking on his comfort. You might have, and he was only trying to be positive, even flirted with him.

But then, Steve had left in a tiff and you had offered to check on him, knowing that the breakup between Sharon and himself was still raw. Bucky hadn’t thought anything of it until he was still waiting for you 2 hours later.  He was aroused and needed some relief - relief he had hope to find with you - but instead drunk Bucky who had sipped way to much of the demi-god’s ale had found an easy target with the blonde. He didn’t even really care for blondes but…..he just didn’t want to be lonely. By the time he had realized what he had done, she had passed out beside him and he was up all night, debating whether you were left wondering why he had left you.

He had hoped to catch you this morning to apologize. Everyone knew that you came in early every morning, refusing to move into the complex tower but knowing that things needed to be accomplished. You always went for an early morning run, so early that the sun would barely break through before making coffee making coffee and preparing the reports of the day for Tony. First one to arrive and last one to leave.

But you hadn’t this morning.

He was worried and distracted, trying to debate whether to go to your apartment to check on you when he hears the elevator ding. Hopeful, he turns expecting to see you coming in, sweaty off your run.

Instead, he was rewarded with Tony who was fuming.

The tall man barrelled through the open space, his hands balled up in two angry fists as his eyes locked onto Barnes.

“Where is he Barnes?”

Bucky raises a curious brow and Stark rolls his eyes,

“Listen, I don’t need you and your Lost Boys bestie covering each other. Not today. This is a serious offense. Flying off with the quin jet to god knows where is not the best publicity we need right now. Lets just hope no one that’s pissed off at us followed him.”

The blank stare Bucky returns to Stark lingers before Bucky shakes his head, returning his eyes out of the patio window.

“Who the hell are you talking about Stark?” he mumbles and Tony takes in Bucky’s confused face.

“Wait - you don’t know that your 1945 girlfriend absconded with my quin jet in the middle of the night not to be heard of? Turned off all the tracking systems and F.R.I.D.A.Y. so I can’t find him and beat him for ruining my morning with Pepper?”

The incredulousness in Tony’s voice is evident and Bucky shrugs, giving him a side glance before shaking his head. Tony gives a loud sigh, banging his fist on the kitchen island.

“Fuck! Do you know if Y/N is here yet? We need to get an angle on this stat.”

Bucky hated when Tony referred to you as though you were another robot in his lab, even though he knew that Tony thought more of you. He loved you like a younger daughter even if he took you for granted.

“She hasn’t come in yet.”

“FUCK!” Tony yells, storming to a cupboard to grab a cup for coffee. He finds one and pours, shaking his head in fury.

“You throw one fucking benefit dinner to prove to the public that The Avengers have changed and Steve has to go off and ruin it. Why am I not surprised.”

Tony leans against the counter, crossing his arms before he takes a sip of coffee before spitting it out.

“Jesus why does this taste like black acid!? Who the hell made this coffee?”

He looks up at Bucky, who hadn’t moved from his spot in the living room and rolls his eyes.

“Of course you made it. Taste likes its been boiling in a hydra base for over 60 years.” he gives an annoyed sigh,  dumping the contents of the pot into the sink before starting to make a new brew and Bucky chuckles, walking into the kitchen and shaking his head.

“Sorry you’re not man enough to handle a dark brew.”

Tony snorts when something rings, causing Bucky to jump up in alarm, his eyes searching the facility as Tony rolls his eyes.

“It’s just my news alarm can opener. Calm down.”

Bucky frowns. If there was nothing more obnoxious than Tony Stark, then it was all the machines that ringed and dinged and shrilled randomly throughout the day. He still didn’t understand the world that literally held the news in the palm of his hands, glass and metal separating him from a world of knowledge.

Tony’s glasses frost over, a news report flashing in front of his eyes and he groans, asking F.R.I.D.A.Y to remove the report from his view and quickly pushing a button on his watch, hastily heading toward the balcony.

“So you got the report.”

Neither of them are surprised to see Natasha, already equipped in her Black Widow attire as she walks into the living room.

Bucky is the first to ask,

“What report? Is this about Steve?”

“Is this about Steve?” Tony mocks, his hands stopping on the patio door handle before looking at the large super soldier. Bucky’s eyes scrunch together in frustration as Tony continues,

“Listen, Tin box, hold down the fort while mommy and daddy reign in the kids. When Y/N gets here, tell her she’s going to have to help with covering this mess Captain has got us in.”

Bucky can’t help to narrow his eyes, his left arm flexing before Natasha places a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t let him get to you. Just let Y/N know it’s probably nothing. Better that few of us go and clean this up,” she turns to Tony,  “There’s a mini jet I can take. Sits one.”

“Already informed Roadie. He’ll meet us there as well.”

And then Tony’s stepping off the balcony, only to fly upwards seconds later in his Iron Man suit. Bucky had been so distracted by the action that he doesn’t catch Natasha’s absence until he hears Sam’s voice and he groans. This morning keeps getting better and better.

“Take it they’re going after Steve?”

“Why the hell does everyone know where Steve is!?”

Sam laughs, turning on the TV in the kitchen as he pours himself a fresh cup of coffee.

“We call this machine a television Bucky. It usually reports out current events and false drama to distract humans from their day to day lives.” His voices is laced with heavy sarcasm but Bucky is to distracted with the news feed to care.  A quinjet had been found in the Las Vegas airport and he chuckles, shaking his head. He didn’t take Steve as a mourn yourself in Vegas kind of guy but if it helped, it helped. It’s only seconds later that Sam is spitting out the coffee, cursing under his breath.

“Did you make this watery crap!?” he asks, taking the coffee pot and pouring it into the sink.

“Tony. He said my pot was too strong.” Bucky chuckles and Sam nods, before frowning and looking back at him.

“Where the hell is Y/N? She’s the one thats figured out the recipe for making good coffee that pleases all of us.”

Bucky shrugs.

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

You watched as Steve roamed the room in his boxers, looking for the small paper before you hear him exclaim,


He bends over, his ass stretching underneath the sheer fabric and you look away, taking in the decor as he picks up the thin paper.

What the hell had gotten into you?

He walks back to the bed as you sit up, the large stiff cotton shirt he wore with his tux the night before falling loosely over your body. He tries to ignore the haphazard way you had buttoned it up, exposing enough of your cleavage to draw a response from him as you leaned over his broad shoulders. Or the way your hair smelled as it brushed against his exposed skin. The same thought echoed in his brain.

What the hell had gotten into him?

“What does it say?” you bite your lip reading the document before groaning.

“Shit!” he flinches hearing you curse and you mumble a quick apology before continuing, “This is official. We definitely got married last night. No random marriage hiccup here.”

You sigh as you lean over the nightstand, drinking the expensive coconut water you had found in the rooms fridge. It was a worthy ten dollars, soothing the small throbbing in your head. Steve had mentioned he had been drunk off of Asgardian ale and that you probably had a sip, causing the massive pain pounding throughout your body.

You could only agree.

Steve; however, was thriving, his drunken stupor burned out of him minutes after he woke up.

Stupid, super soldier serum.

“So…..what does that mean?” he asks uncertainly and you can’t help but give a small laugh, amused by the worry lines creasing his forehead. Not that they would stick.

Steve’s innocence was always something you found adorable.

“Means that I am officially Y/N Rogers. Congratulation - you have a wife!”

He can’t help but laugh, a genuine smile spreading across his face and for once this morning, a small light of happiness seeps through. You were worried about him. You knew how much Sharon meant to him. This wasn’t helping. Part of you was worried that the scowls that had cast itself across his features had to deal with the disappointment of being married to you.

Though that shouldn’t matter. You liked Bucky. Everyone knew that.

Except, of course, Bucky.

“Well, while this is one of the best honors I can add to my life experiences this isn’t right,” he turns to you, his calm blue eyes looking into your own.

“You deserve better than marrying some old guy in a sketchy Vegas chapel. At least you should be able to remember it.”

You nod your head, the smile still unable to leave your face.

“Well,” you crawl back to him, placing your chin on his shoulders, feeling his muscles tense underneath you. God this man was built.

“I’d rather have my random marriage experience with you than anyone else. Could you imagine if I accidentally married Thor. God of obliviousness. He’d be a string of questions from the moment we got up to find ourselves in this mess to the second I divorce his demi-god ass.”

“Language…” Steve says under his breath though he’s chuckling and then his eyes lock on yours again. There’s something different this time. Curiosity and something else. Something you can’t put your finger on.

You’re unaware that your faces were getting dangerously close to each other until you hear a loud bang at the door. It only takes Steve seconds  to respond, blocking your body from the intrusion, before the door bursts open in a small cloud of smoke. Natasha walks in, an amused smile on her face as she takes in Steve’s semi-naked state.

“Steve.” she calmly says, crossing her arms in amusement. You try to hide your body further behind his large frame before Tony is walking in, the mask of his suit lifting with Roadie not far behind him.

“Morning Captain. Don’t mean to burst in on you like this - I know that you probably wanted to check out the breakfast buffet downstairs -heard it crazy delicious,” he staring down Steve with angry eyes and you groan, Steve easily covering it up with a cough, “But I came to retrieve some property. You know, the quin jet you absconded with.”

Steve stands tall, giving a curt nod as Natasha takes in the room. The tux, the wedding dress, the empty champagne bottle, the second pair of legs hiding behind Steve’s.

“Steve….didn’t take you and Sharon for a random Vegas type.”  she says, cutting the silence.

This causes Tony to snap toward Natasha and then back to Steve. Steve’s jaws clenches and he gives a slow sigh before mumbling,

“…not with Sharon.”

“Really?” Both Natasha, Roadie and Tony ask simultaneously and you know you’re busted. You give one last sigh before stepping from behind him, lifting your arms up in surrounding and giving an uncertain smile

“Surprise?” you say weakly.

always the empty / always the waiting
to be filled / always the only feeling
needed when you’re full /
the needing to be full /
always the waiting / the waiting /
the waiting / the last boy you held
cried while he was inside
you / it didn’t matter what time it was /
it was too late and / he was all dial tone /
all sweaty hands and unease / you only
needed ever needed him to be there

and the first time a girl came giggling,
grinning onto your end of the street / your
foundation stood steady so she had a
solid place to fall / to spend the night /
to be safe for a while

you only ever needed to be needed /
only ever needed to be full / so
when a rough handed man barrels in /
takes up too much of your space / smells
like cheap rum and rain / you let him
grip everything a little too tight /
you let him mumble about his wife / and
you let him take what he needs / you
let them all take what they need

it’s always the empty again / always
the streetlights / the rain flooding the
pavement / always the waiting for
someone else / the waiting to be filled /
waiting to be full / always the empty / the
empty / always the waiting / the waiting /
the waiting / THE WAITING / THE WAITING /

—  ABOUT A PHONE BOOTH (14/30) | cait c 

Screams echo down the hall in front of you, and you push your way through the fleeing people to where the commotion is. This lab is not a peaceful place (after all, the Avengers are investigating it) so you can see why Bruce would get angry. Especially because he’s a scientist. 

But when you see the impossibly large, green man barreling down the hall towards you, you have to admit that it still scares you every time. 

“Bruce!” you yell. The Hulk stops dead in his tracks and huffs at your voice, bouncing and pacing as he looks at you. “This has to stop,” you plead, voice shaking. “You know you don’t want to do this." 

The Hulk takes another step towards you, and you fight the urge to take one back. Instead, you take one forward and hold out your hand to him. "Come on, Bruce, look. It’s me. It’s your (y/n).” His green eyes flicker down to your hand before he huffs again and turns in a circle, shaking his head. “Bruce,” you say, making him look at you again. “We’re safe. We don’t need a code green anymore." 

You take another step forward, hand still outstretched. Bruce’s impossibly green eyes consider your hand before lifting up to your eyes. It’s adorable and heartbreaking at how confused he looks. He lifts his huge hand and sets it on top of your small one. And with that single touch, he begins to transform back into himself.

Originally posted by karlmordo

cold bloody nights [frank castle]

summary: frank comes home and you’re gone.

a/n: i’d like to make a public announcement: frank castle owns my ass. also there’s blood and violence in this, but i mean it’s frank how can there be no blood or violence???? or maybe it’s just me and i’m a sociopath bc i love this shit i’m not sure yet.

Originally posted by pizzaplanet666

Walking into your apartment at 4AM Frank tried to keep as quiet as possible. Much to his dismay the door squeaked as he opened it, he cringing at the sound. Frank soon went to catch the door and close it softly, but when he looked over at the bedroom to see if he woke you, you weren’t there. All of his senses were immediately on high alert, but he told himself not to panic, maybe you went to the bathroom. But when he saw the broken glass on the floor his blood began to boil. Frank was out the door in seconds, not caring if the sound of it smashing closed woke the entire building.

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decesez  asked:

IRL ringo has a huge ass nose holy shit the animators of the beetless cartoon did not exaggerate a bit

ok listen here my friend

irl ringo nose

cartoon ringo nose

irl ringo nose profile

cartoon ringo nose profile

if the actual man looked like this he wouldve been scarier than george… and if they were to exaggerate anything it should have been that one eyebrow that always looks like its melting off the side of his head

The Rest is History

Originally posted by supernatural-imagine-fanfiction

Summary: Certain…feelings are revealed when you get hurt on a hunt. 

Dean Winchester was good at a lot of things. He was an protective and loving son and brother. He was one of the best hunters to ever live. He tried not to make too many lasting romantic attachments, and he was excellent at keeping his cool in a high pressure situation.

There was just something about you that changed that. Almost from the moment he met you, Dean was smitten. You had this aura of powerful grace and beauty that drew him in.

After that, you’d starting hunting with him and Sam on and off. Each time it was suggested that you join them on a hunt, Dean was not so subtly excited. Sam found the whole thing hilarious.

This time however, you all were taking out a vamp nest. It was supposed to be an average hunt, one you’d all done many, many times in the past.

If only things were ever that simple.

The “nest” was more like a swarm. There were at least 30 of those things attacking the little hunting party.

You’d all been split apart, fighting your own little sections of the hoard. With only a few taken out, all three of you were already drenched in blood and losing energy.

One creature rushed you, teeth bared. Ducking, you hit him in the stomach, and flipped him over your back, springing up to behead the next.

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Finished Dear White People, and I didn't really like it!

Because I fucking loved it.

As someone who is always trying to make sure that I don’t say something idiotic or asinine, even though it wouldn’t be meant in a rude or hateful way. I learned that white people need to whole heartedly think before we speak, especially at the moments we are angriest.

I saw a white boy and a black man get into a verbal fight, in the case where the black man was right and the white boy was being an idiot, and ended the way I thought it would. The black man was staring down the barrel of a cops gun.

Also this show points out the racism in every culture too. CoCo talking about the hardships of being a darker skinned woman from the south side of Chicago over the mixed race Sam White was awesome. It showed that anyone can’t have racists tendencies and just not realize it.

And I love Lionel. I just I love him, my favorite character of the show. And Joelle was utterly amazing.

A Soul Lost at Sea (Olicity Victorian AU Fanfiction) Chapter 13

Rating:  Mature

Summary:  Five years after pirates attacked his ship, Royal Navy sailor Oliver Queen returns home to England to find his affluent family in financial ruin.  So when he’s presented with the opportunity to marry Felicity, eldest daughter of the ridiculously wealthy Noah Smoak, Oliver doesn’t hesitate to capture her hand…even though he has no idea if he can capture her heart.  Or if Felicity could ever possibly learn to love a soul lost at sea.

Tags: Smut, Fluff, Angst, Victorian attitudes, Arranged Marriage, Romance, Pirates

Link:  AO3

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As It Seems: Chapter 2

Table of Contents

Según Parece: Lista De Contenidos

Summary: Sam’s arrival takes some of the stress off your shoulders, but the answers that you get don’t give you peace of mind.

Word Count: 1882

Warnings: Blood

A/N: Happy 4th to my fellow Americans! 


~Reader’s POV~

Sam’s eyes snapped over to me just before he came and knelt beside me. Quickly and efficiently, he surveyed Dean for wounds before standing up. “Where’s your first aid stuff?”

“Bathroom. Second door to the left. Did you kill him? Is there a dead man in my living room?”

“There’s about to be two if you don’t calm down and help me with Dean.”



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anonymous asked:

hi alice!!!! i heard that u are looking for some inspiration :P how about a scenario featuring someone who holds a grudge against Jumin and wanna get revenge on him by attempting to kill off every single person important to him one after one, from least to most? :3c

Title: The Pierrot’s last Joker

Fandom: Mystic Messenger
Genre: Angst/Romance/Mystery

Pairing: Jumin Han x Reader/MC/You

a/n it’s funny how i was listening to synchronicity while writing this. it actually added more to the mood i wanted to achieve. lololol anyway here you go!! let me know what you think, yeah? oh anon-chan you are so evil for requesting this lolol i like how your mind works

Every story has a beginning. For example, how did the universe begin?
Who created it? Was everything part of a greater plan?

When you were given birth, were you planned? Were your first cries as a sign of life immediately welcomed? Who planned to give you to your current family? Were you born to be a part of someone’s story?

Stories. Stories can equal life. And in every story there will be choices. You move and decide according to what you believe in, what your emotions tell you or even according to what you desire. The strength of a human will can go lengths just to prove that they can and they will.

And the moment you try to take that will away, death will become the only last resort.

It all began one rainy night. This story that could have qualified to become a tale. A storm was to pass over Seoul and the streets were empty enough that only the pouring rain can be heard.

There was a victim.
And a culprit.

The Victim. A group of men in black wearing black masks over their faces were dragging a poor soul across the wet asphalt, not caring enough if he gets wounded or might break his limbs. The man seemed to be already dead anyway and no movements of protests were made by him.

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Safe. (Calum Hood Series, AU)

Calum has a secret to keep, Y/N was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.

*Written in Y/N POV***

Warnings: Swearing?


You always read about how couples meet in the most cliché ways. In a coffee shop, bumping into each other- literally- on the street, or something of the sort.
You see, Y/n had always wanted to have that cute first meeting with the person she was destined to love. But it seemed that fate had other plans for her.

The summer after Y/N’s first year of college was meant to be partially relaxing. She had gotten bumped up from part-time to full-time for the summer at her job, which as cliché as it was, was at the local diner. The restaurant stayed pretty busy, but on the rare days that it wasn’t, Y/N’s boss allowed her to go home early.
It was one of those days, a Friday, and Y/N headed home, beginning the four-block walk back to her apartment. The route was always scenic and cool, the shade of the trees blocking out the heat of the hot Alabama sun. Cars streamed by on the highway as the sidewalk wound through the trees, keeping a safe distance between traffic and pedestrians.
As Y/N began to near her apartment building, focused on her phone for a moment, she heard a shout. Y/N glanced up from the phone in her hand and over across the street, only to see a man holding a gun, the barrel aimed straight at her.
She heard a scream, which she realized came from her own mouth, just as someone knocked her to the ground. And then the same someone was helping Y/N up, pulling her along by the arm. She yanked her arm free as they turned a corner, nearly pulling the person back to her, and the person pulling her along stopped in his tracks.
“What the hell?!?” Y/N shrieked, the sound echoing in the empty alley. The boy turned to face her, his expression amused.
“I just saved your life, could I at least get a thank you?” He questioned, brushing dirt off of his dark green t-shirt. Y/N began to say something, but thought better of it and instead narrowed her eyes.
“Explain.” Y/N stated, crossing her arms over her chest.
“That man aiming a gun at you was actually aiming at me.” The boy sighed, running a hand through his curly hair.
“It’s.. complicated.”
“Then uncomplicate it. Tell me who you are.”
“I’m Calum. I’m…involved in something, and you were in the wrong place at the wrong time.” He cautiously revealed, glancing around the alleyway before he looked at you again.
“Y/N. Please tell me you aren’t in a gang. Because if I just became a gang target-” Y/N sighed, to which Calum shook his head.
“No, no. I just.. have something they want is all.” Calum mumbled.
“They? Who is they?”
“A group.. who want this thing I have and they have been after me and my friends for a while.”
“Oh, so there’s more of you now?” Y/N inquired before shaking her head.
“You know what, forget it. I’m going home, not exactly so nice to meet you, Calum. I hope you make it safely in your life, and protect whatever you may have that some group wants.” She added before turning to walk away. Calum’s eyes widened before he quickly walked in front of her, cutting her path off.
“You aren’t safe here now.” He blurted, to which she rolled her eyes.
“Please. Hoover is safe, mostly. There’s some shady things that happen, but it’s safe. I’ve lived here for around a year now.” Y/N waved him off.
“Will you at least let me walk you to wherever you were headed?” Calum sighed, to which Y/N shook her head.
“I’ll be okay, Calum, I swear.”
“Could you at least text me so I know you made it okay?” Calum pleaded, and Y/N sighed.
“Fine.” She relented, handing her phone over to him. He typed his name and number into her phone, then handed it back. With a quick wave, Y/N quickly walked out of the alleyway, hoping to wipe any memory of the encounter out of her mind.
Calum just stood, staring after her and hoping she would be okay.

*Authors Note*
Part 1/?
Feedback is appreciated…Also, this is set partially in an AU. They’re still involved with music, just not fully. And, this is set in LA, from Part 2 onward.


Gambos: “- Vargos, what the woohoock are you doin’ here, man?”
Vargo: “- I need a barrel of gasoline, otherwise I would never set my foot here in this stinky grease pit.”
Vargo: “- So, let me see if I get this right; I get the what I want and you want 20 jars of deodorant for it, is that it? Can you handle that, Nadi?”
Nadi: “- It wouldn’t be a problem if I can find the parsley…”
Rory: “- You do understand that this is a deal between you and me? Keep Mad Mud out of this…”
Vargo: “- Sure! No problem”
Calinda: “- Where you from, Red?”
Nadi: “- From here…”
Vargo: “- I’ll pick you up after the sunrise, are you sure you don’t want me to stay?”
Nadi: “- Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow. Wait… Vargo, ….thanks for everything you done for me”

(Rory, the leader of the Turbo Pumpkins (and his gender swopped twin sis Roxy) is made by witch-hammers!)