moon bounces

My friend recently shared a screenshot of her playlist on Spotify. I know that she has a great taste in music as I have been with her on some gigs that I have attended and also during Malasimbo. She made 11 playlist and the “don’t get stoned” playlist is my favorite by far. So I’m gonna share here the top 10 songs that I’m currently into. I’ll prolly be listening to this playlist the whole week. <3

  1. Be With You – Giraffage
  2. Goodbye - Mark Redito (Moon Bounce Remix)
  3. Can’t Get Enough – Basenji
  4. Beautiful Escape – Tom Misch
  5. On Hold – The xx
  6. Once Again – Petit Biscuit
  7. Caramel Popcorn – Tomggg feat. Phoenix Troy
  8. Every Day – Bo En
  9. Getting to Know You – Spazzkid
  10. Anxo – Giraffage (Maxo Firemix)

I really love it when I get to discover new music. I’m very open to any types of music. There’s always a perfect set of playlist for every mood. And this week, this is mine. :-)

dine and dash (stefan salvatore au ft klaus mikaelson, part xi)

Plot: You and Stefan dated for three years while in high school. You both thought your relationship would last, but college managed got in the way. So you two decided to break up. You left to college in Massachusetts and Stefan stayed in Mystic Falls. While you were gone, things changed between you and a certain original, but you hadn’t yet let go of Stefan. Now, almost six years later, you’re both invited to Bonnie and Kol’s wedding. It’s time for a reunion.

Pairing: Kol x Bonnie, Damon x Elena, Caroline x Enzo, Klaus x Reader, Stefan x Reader (mentioned), Stefan x Ivy

Warnings: language maybe? strong feelings

A/N: OKAY SO I KNOW I SAID I MIGHT MAKE THIS 13 PARTS, BUT I LOVE THIS ENDING AND WOULD LIKE TO KEEP IT THIS WAY. I know we haven’t gotten to the wedding festivities or anything yet, and I know I said I’d like to write about that, but I don’t know. this feels right. of course, the final say is up to you babes. pls read this and let me know what you think! (no gifs are mine!)

dine and dash~masterlist


“Alright,” you take a deep breath, calming yourself as you speak. “I want to apologize. I led you on for years, kept Stefan in my heart when I should have let go. You’re right, and it was foolish of me. I’m sorry, Niklaus.”

“Hey, hey,” he whispers, one hand reaching down and grabbing both of yours. “Look, that’s all in the past. You needed closure, and I should have been more understanding. I’d never been loved the way that you loved Stefan, I’d never experienced that love myself. At least not until I realized the depth of my feelings for you. Then I got it.”

“Nik,” you whisper his name apologetically, looking over at him and noticing a small smile on his face.

“I’m not done yet, love,” he whispers right back, pulling into the hotel parking lot. “I just want to say that you’re forgiven. I understand, I do. Now it’s my turn to apologize,” he slides the car into a spot and turns off the engine, sighing as his eyes meet yours. “I apologize for not telling you how I felt sooner. I apologize for saying the horrible things I said earlier today. I apologize for bringing Valerie into this whole mess. After everything we’ve been through, I can’t seem to shake you off. There’s not a single time that I’m not thinking of you. And listen, I know there’s no way that I can wipe away all the negative things that I’ve done, but I would like to try. If you’d let me, of course.”

“Klaus, I’d–” he places two fingers over your lips, not allowing you to answer right away. He just poured his heart out to you, he loved the pleasantly surprised look in your eyes and he didn’t want to forget that any time soon.

“I want you to take some time and think it over, please,” he whispers, leaning forward and placing a gentle kiss on your cheek before pulling back. “Come on, let’s go inside and see what havoc they’ve wreaked.”

“Caroline,” Bonnie whines and stomps her foot as Caroline makes sure everyone is in their designated rooms. “Caroline! Are you sure we–?”

“Bonnie you and Kol cannot sleep together the night before the wedding! You two have to stay in separate rooms, no argument,” Caroline raises her brows at Bonnie, daring her to do the opposite of what she asked.

“But the wedding isn’t for another week! Are you seriously planning on keeping us apart for a whole week before the wedding?” Bonnie gives Caroline puppy eyes and Caroline bites her bottom lip.

“Bon, I don’t know. I have to consult with Y/N, and then I can–”

“I heard my name,” you and Klaus walk over to the two girls, a few bags in each of your hands. “What’s up?”

“Well, Bonnie wants to sleep in the same room as Kol until the night before. I said I’d have to consult with you before giving her an answer.”

“Before I let you know my take, I have one question: where the hell is the maid of honor?” You scoff, looking around for Elena. “We’re making all the tough choices and she is–”

“She’s on the phone with the DJ, yelling his ear off. She also just got off the phone with the priest,” Caroline shrugs and you both make a face.

“You know what? She can keep doing that. Now, I think Bonnie staying in the same room as Kol is a good idea, at least until the night before the wedding. Then she has to stay in her room. What do you think Care?”

Originally posted by wanderinginthemisst

“I think that’s a great idea. While she’s with Kol, you can sleep in her room since y’know, um,” Caroline clears her throat and looks away from Klaus.

“Right, Valerie,” you whisper, shaking your head as you think of the conversation you and Klaus just had in the car. “Well–”

“Actually she’s gone. She left,” Klaus speaks up and you all look at him, surprised and confused and relieved all at once.

“What do you mean she’s gone? Where did she go?” You furrow your brows at him and he looks down, slightly ashamed to own up to his failed tricks.

“She went back home, to Paris. She only accompanied me to help me explain myself to you,” Klaus shakes his head, slowly looking up at you. “She’s got a husband back home, some well-endowed French architect. They’re our allies and she offered to help me. She thought that if I finally admitted my feelings to you, I’d be less prone to committing massacres.”

“I bet she didn’t expect my newly found bloodthirst, huh?” You chuckle, taking in Klaus’s nervous appearance. “Either way, I’m spending the week in Bonnie’s suite. It’s bigger.”

“And bigger is better,” Caroline mutters under her breath causing Klaus to turn a bright red as you and Bonnie laugh uncontrollably.

“Right, well I’m just gonna, yeah I’m,” Klaus clears his throat, dropping the bags and slowly walking away from you three.

“I’m gonna take the bags to their owners, you two gonna be okay here?” You pick up the bags Klaus left behind and lift them along with yours, cracking your neck as Bonnie and Caroline nod.

“We’ll be okay. You be careful!”

“Will do, Care!” You call out and drop all the bags in their designated rooms. The last bag belonged to Stefan. You approach his room with a small smile on your face, the smile falling as soon as you hear the yelling. Stefan must’ve told her about what happened this morning.

“You kissed her, Stefan! Who’s to say you won’t do that again, huh? Who’s to say–?”

Me! I say that I won’t do that again. Ivy, please,” you hear Stefan’s pleads as you stand right outside the door. You hear how much it pains him to even think of losing her.

“You said you didn’t care for her, Stefan. That’s clearly a lie. This entire time, all you’ve done is follow her around like a lost puppy,” Ivy’s full out sobbing at this point, this morning’s actions taking more a toll on her than you thought possible. “I love you, Stefan. I can’t be with you if you don’t love me, too.”

“But I do love you, Ivy. I love you so much,” Stefan’s voice is coming out in choked whispers as you hear footsteps approach the door. “Please don’t leave.”

“Stefan, I–” You knock on the door and interrupt Ivy, unable to take any more of Stefan’s pain.

“Guys? It’s me, Y/N,” you whisper, secretly hoping they wouldn’t open the door. “Look, I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation. I know you hate me, Ivy. I get it. I kissed Stefan and I shouldn’t have. He’s not with me. I didn’t take your feelings, or his, into consideration when I kissed him. But I swear to you that’s all that happened. The only reason I did it was to get some closure. Our breakup happened so quick; I spent the past four years thinking about what could have been, pining over unresolved feelings. I came here and saw him with you, smiling bigger than I’d ever seen. He loves you. I just wanted the closure that he seemed to have found. I’m sorry, Ivy. I swear that this is my fault. Stefan and I care for each other, but it’s just platonic. I promise. Besides,” you chuckle, wiping away a silent tear. “I almost killed his brother, so you have nothing to worry about.”

You hear a couple soft chuckles behind the door, a few quiet apologies and declarations of love before the door is opened.

“Here you go,” you whisper and hand the bag to Ivy, your eyes meeting Stefan’s grateful ones as you smile at the couple. “I’m so happy for you both.”

“I still hate you,” Ivy whispers and you laugh.

“Understood,” you nod and turn away, the door shutting behind you just as it had all those years ago. But this time you got your closure. This time you had something else to look forward to.

The Other End of the Hall

“Guys,” Damon walks into Caroline’s room, desperate to tell his friends about what he’d just witnessed across the hall… only no one’s paying attention. “Guys?

Damon’s greeting goes unnoticed yet again as the girls’ voice gets louder, now joined by Enzo’s take on the centerpieces and Kol’s question about chicken tenders.

“Will everyone shut up?!” Damon’s voice grows a few octaves as the gang quiets down and looks at him. “Ladies, we have this week planned to a T. Caroline, you made sure of that. Bonnie, this is your wedding. None of us are gonna let anything go wrong. Elena, babe please. We need you to be the sane one right now. Kol, no chicken tenders at the wedding. Although I may be able to sneak a few into the reception for you? And Enzo, it’s too late to change any details about the centerpieces. Caroline and Y/N will have your head on a platter as the main centerpiece. Speaking of Y/N–”

“Oh come on, mate!” Enzo yells and everyone joins him, completely ignoring Damon’s previous comments. The yelling is louder than before and it’s now accompanied by obscene hand gestures. So Damon does the only thing he thinks will get everyone’s attention: he gets on top of a table and cups his hands to the sides of his mouth to form an impromptu megaphone.



The Beach

It’s a full moon, the light bouncing off the waves and the waves bouncing off your heels as you stare into the lake. You wrap your arms around yourself, a smile on your face as the wind gently kisses your bare shoulders and stomach. You hear footsteps approaching and you let out a content sigh, closing your eyes as he sits behind you and wraps his arms around you from behind. His face has made its way in the crook of your neck, a blissful look on your face as his stubble brushes against your jaw. You giggle softly, finally happy.

“Y/N?” You smile as you hear your name rolling off his tongue. “Is everything alright?”

“Everything’s perfect,” you whisper, nuzzling into him as he places a kiss on the side of your head. Everything truly is perfect.

Promise Me

Originally posted by fandomsarecoolilikequiteafew

Not my Gif

Bodhi Rook x Reader, Gender Neutral, Established Relationship, Post-Canon

Summary:  Bodhi wakes up from a nightmare and you go to comfort him.

A/N:  This is not a request, but I had to get it out of my system.  I’ve been in an angsty mood and I need more Bodhi in my life.

Word Count: 2.0 K

          A cold shiver ran up your spine, waking you up from a dreamless sleep.  You half opened your eyes and rolled over, reaching out for a warm body, only to be met with sheets and blankets.  You opened your eyes fully. The side of the bed normally occupied by your boyfriend, Bodhi, was completely empty. 

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Damian Wayne and the Great Summer Fair

Request for a headcanon for any one (whole batfam, just batboys, one batboy of choosing, it’s up to you) where the end of summer carnival/fair is in town? Perhaps what the boy(s) wants to see/do all that good carnival fun fluff?

So I was gonna do Jason because I mean Jason Todd but then I realized DAMIAN WAYNE AT A FAIR?? WHAT?? so uh yeah, headcanons for Dami visiting an end of summer fair!!!

EDIT: It spiraled into the batfam oops?

• Okay so you’d think Dick or Steph would be the one to force take him, but no, he brings up the idea because he wants to take Jon, cause he’s secretly a cinnamon bun who loves his friends, and he obviously needs to scope out the fair to insure they can spend their time efficiently.

• And that’s how the entire family ended up at the fair early Sunday morning.

• Damian did end up traveling the grounds with Dick, mainly because his brother insisted he knew fairs better than anyone else, and mentioned he could show Damian all the tips and tricks for any of the games.

• Damian would refuse to go on the Ferris Wheel, claiming he has to save one ride as a surprise. he can’t wait to see Jon’s face light up when they reach the top, he might not fly but he can at least get them both high up

• Dick wins Damian many many stuffed animals which he pretends to hate but everyone knows he loves them

• Damian is surprisingly good at whack-a-mole and is pleased to win a Robin plushies.

• Jason wins him another Robin plushies playing one of those shooting ducks games. Damian cherishes it.



• Tim gets food poisoning, Tim gets lost, Tim no longer goes to carnivals with his family. Damian is not upset, nope.

• Bruce having to carry around prizes. Bruce carrying Batman stuffies. Bruce Wayne is Batman.

• Damian going on the moon bounce with Steph because it’s tradition fatgirl

• Cass eating candy floss and it winds up in Jason’s hair. Jason is not amused. Candy floss fight ensues.

• Dick spends hours in the hall of mirrors posing. He never looks bad and it frustrates Jason to no end. Jason always looks like a gremlin.

• No one likes the clowns

• Damian trys churros, Damian discovers a love for churros, Damian over eats churros.

• Everyone has a blast, and the drive back is basically everyone sleeping.

• But it was fun and now Damian knows what attractions to take Jon to, but perhaps they should go again next weekend so he can get a better grasp on the Fair.

TAGGED: @hyp-oh-critical

Thanks loves!! ^-^

anonymous asked:

Reinhardt with an S!O who's a writer. And he's super into all her books. So he shows up to every convention she's at to try and get her attention. Even bringing her little snacks.


It was a complete mystery to you sometimes, why so many people were interested in reading your books. In your opinion, there were so many people who were better than you and put out things that were more interesting. But enough people liked it, so much that you were asked to go to conventions outside of your book signings when you’d release a new novel. 

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Won’t Let Go - Part 1 - Leonard McCoy

Pairing: leonard mccoy x reader 

Summary: short fic (or ficlet, if you’re nasty) based off “say you won’t let go” by james arthur. this is the first verse until the first chorus. EDIT: im gonna make it the stages of a relationship instead of following the song exactly. also this part takes place before bones, reader, and jim have graduated from the academy. OKAY? COOL!

Word count: 1,102

Warnings: fluff

A/N: ok the summary says it all, really. i love this song too much and for some reason thought of bones while listening to it today. as i already said, this is just the first verse! it’s a cute, short lil story. SO ENJOY IT, TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK, ETC. 

The vacant San Francisco streets were lined and illuminated by quaint street lamps every few feet. Though their light was much dimmer than what would be considered adequate and their purpose was likely primarily aesthetic, it kept the two of you from bumping into the fire hydrants with chipped orange paint and trashcans with glossy green paint as you stumbled into his side repeatedly.

Leonard didn’t know you for very long and, even after discounting the amount you’d spoken over the last few hours, you felt familiar to him. He liked the sparkle in your eyes when he first approached you to speak, liked your too-loud laugh which rang through the club Jim had forced him into, and liked the tightness with which your arms stayed locked over his shoulders as you danced too slowly to a too-fast song. Most of all, though, he liked the way in which you looked at him with a smile that reached your eyes and wrinkled the bridge of your nose— like he was familiar to you, too.

It was half-past three and you both walked side-by-side through the Mission District. You held an over-filled ice cream sandwich in your hand and he held a precarious ice cream bar in his— those, combined with the bottles of water weighing your bag down, formed your modest loot from the 24-hour pharmacy that you insisted on visiting when he found your drunken persuasion face too amusing to refuse.

Leonard glanced at you as you laughed about the awful mistake which was the Indian-Italian fusion restaurant you passed and couldn’t help but smile back.

He nodded towards your hand when you met his gaze. “Your ice cream’s meltin’ all over your hand, sweetheart.”

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But I'm Not Bitter.

We had a huge party for my little brother last summer, on his sixth birthday–moon bounce, water balloon fights, a cookout, and of course, a gigantic cake.

My party will be much, much smaller–just a cake, really–and even for that, Mom didn’t have any flour to make the batter.

But I’m not bitter. I jog briskly down the road to the Parkers’– “Just run down quickly, and see if they have any sugar, then hurry right back”, Mom says. “And wear your raincoat, and gloves, Laura…”

I glance up at the sullen grey clouds that seem to have covered the sky forever, and doubt that a raincoat and gloves will offer much protection.

I knock on the Parkers’ front door when I arrive, feeling silly. Mrs. Parker will likely be just where she was when I came here last, sprawled on the kitchen floor, covered in weeping, seeping sores, with a few rats gnawing at her face….

And that’s where she is still, though since it has been over a week since I was here, she is now mostly bone, with some clinging gristly bits, and she doesn’t care a bit as I grab the whole canister of flour, and the bag of sugar she had in the pantry. The bombs, with their poisonous vapors and plague-clouds, caught most of us unaware, but Mrs. Parker believed in always having a well-stocked pantry.

I leave quickly, not wanting to see if Mr. Parker is still alive. Last time, he was crying and begging me to take him with me, but I couldn’t get his wheelchair down the stairs, and lost control of it–he tumbled to the bottom, but I heard him groaning as I ran out the door, so I know he was alive then.

The rats probably have gotten him by now. I don’t even check, just run out the door again, and home with the flour and sugar.

Mom finishes mixing up my cake, and lights a fire to bake it, while I put Desitin on the worst of the sores on my brother’s face and arms, and then treat my own. They are worse today, and probably being outside didn’t help, even with a raincoat. In a month or so, we’ll probably be dead as the Parkers, who had no cellar to go into when the bombs came.

My cake smells wonderful as it bakes. My brother drew me a sweet picture of us fishing together, and Mom even found candles for my cake. This will most likely be my last birthday party ever.

But I’m not bitter.

Anything (Part 1)

Summary: Victoria Abbott (reader) gets rescued by the Avengers and they help her adjust to life out of captivity. While learning how to be herself again, she finds that the one person she least expected is the one who shows her how to really live.

Word Count: 2,583

Author’s Note: Hi everyone! This will be my first series that I’m publishing! It is not related to Babydoll, but it will be the same format (Bucky x Reader). I hope everyone likes it and be sure to read my first Bucky fic, Babydoll!


I crawl to the middle of the mat, coughing up scarlet blood. My abdomen stings with the fire left by the blade, and I can’t catch my breath. Lungs burning and face bloody, I stagger to my feet, but not before my assailant lunges towards me again. He throws a powerful fist at my temple and the world goes black before my body hits the ground.

Gunfire peppers the walls in the corridor, startling me awake. I cry out in pain, slipping off the cot onto the cold, cement floor. My stomach regurgitates the food I assume they fed me through an IV onto the floor, acid burning my dry throat. Suddenly, the fluorescent lights blacken and I’m left alone in the darkness. The blackout brings complete silence, frightening me. I feel under my cot for the knives I’d stolen from a security guard doing his nightly rounds. It cost me a horrible night of unfavorable activities, but anything was worth my safety in an emergency like this. My fingers touch the cool metal and I scramble for the weapons. Heart pounding and fingers trembling, I clutch the slim knives and back up against the wall adjacent to my cot, tensing in anticipation. I hear light footfalls outside my door and close my eyes, tears streaming down my bruised face. This is it, this is the great and terrible end to my misery.

The door flies off it’s hinges into the room with a powerful kick from the intruder and without hesitation, I attack them. Since I have the element of surprise, I slash at the body a few times, unmatched. One of my knives strikes metal and I’m momentarily puzzled, which gives my attacker an opening to react. They somehow find my hands in the dark and grab both of my wrists with one hand, knocking my defense mechanisms to the floor and twisting my arms behind my back in one swift move. I cry out and another hand covers my mouth, shushing me. The hand smells musty and like sandalwood, the calloused fingers a sweaty pressure on my cheeks. I struggle against who I assume is a man, and gasp when I realize the fingers wrapped around my wrists are cool metal. He whispers something Russian in my ear and it’s the last thing I hear before I black out.

I open my eyes to an upside-down world. The blistering night air stings my face and sweat beads down the bridge of my nose. My throbbing head bobs to the cadence of the man walking, holding me bridal-style. Although my mind is fuzzy and my muscles are on fire, I know well and good when I’m being taken against my will, and that sure as hell isn’t happening a second time. In a flash, I maneuver my body to his shoulders and he is thrown on the ground before he can register my attack. I tear the sniper-rifle from its strap on his back, turn off the safety, and aim it at his head. He groans and rolls onto his back, hands up in surrender.

If I wasn’t in a life or death situation, I would be awed by his beauty. His sharp jawline is scruffy and bloodied and his blue eyes are bright in the moonlight. I catch the silver glint of his left arm and linger on it a second too long. I hear more footsteps running towards us and use the butt of the gun to hit the man in front of me. He falls unconscious on the ground, motionless, and I turn to the direction of the sounds.

My heart pounds as I steady my finger over the trigger, ready to defend myself. My throat burning from dehydration and underuse, I say, “Don’t come any closer.”

Whoever it is hears me because I then hear silence again.

You need to be stronger.

“Who are you?”

You need to be faster.

“My name is Steve Rogers. Can I come closer so we can talk?”

You need to be smarter.

“Stay where you are or I’ll put a bullet through your head.” An almost empty threat, seeing as I can barely see this man’s silhouette in the dark of the night. He looks tall and muscular, but so was every person I’d ever fought. His size didn’t intimidate me. His voice didn’t intimidate me. Only the darkness obstructing a clear line of sight frightened me. I don’t waver.

“We aren’t here to hurt you,” the man says.

“That’s what they said when they took me ten years ago. Why should I trust you?” I spit.

He takes a step forward and I tighten my grip on the barrel of the gun. “We just want to help you, Victoria.”

“How do you know my name?” I yell. “Who the hell are you?”

My guard is up and all of my focus is on the man in front of me. The gun is ripped from my hands and tossed aside, firing a shot as it lands. I scream, my heart pounding out of my chest while terror consumes me, as the same man from before traps me in his strong arms. “Тихий, дорогая,” he whispers. “You’re safe now.”

I go limp in his arms, going against my better judgement and trusting him, tears streaming down my face once again as I choke down sobs. He spins me around and pulls me into a hug, burying his face in my neck. I struggle to pull away from the stranger, who just wraps me up tighter, holding me firmly in place.

I hear the whirrs of his metal arm shifting as he moves to pull me impossibly closer. I fist his shirt in my hands, my head buried in the warm crook of his neck and shoulder. I can’t control the sobs that wrack my body and I feel ashamed at showing weakness. But I don’t care. He says I’m safe, and but I don’t believe him. I want to believe him, but I can’t.

“B-” the man from earlier, Steve, says.

The beautiful stranger with the metal arm shakes his head and waves him away, squeezing me tighter and shielding my body with his. I have no idea how long we stand together - seconds, minutes, hours - but the only thing on my mind is how he holds me like I’m glass, like I’m broken. It’s frightening how gently he holds me; I’ve never known any man to be this gentle while touching me and I only want to get away. I can’t let him see me let my guard down.

After what feels like an eternity, the man wraps his flesh arm around my shoulder and grabs my left hand with his metal one. It feels terrifying and new, like nothing I’d ever experienced. He leads me into the woods by the facility to a jet in a clearing. It looks ominous and expensive, the reflective black panels causing light from the moon to bounce off in all different directions. I hear voices in the jet and I tense instinctively. The man squeezes my shoulder reassuringly.

“I know it seems terrifying now,” he says in a low, scratchy voice. “But you’re with us now. You don’t need to be afraid. I’ll keep you safe.”

My heart thumps painfully hard. I won’t be giving in that easily. “Who are you?”

The corners of his lips quirk up slightly. “I’m Bucky.”

With that, he leads me into the jet and six pairs of eyes are on me instantly. My skin crawls as I avoid the gazes of all of them, unsure what to say. A woman clad in a black jumpsuit with beautiful red hair steps forward, extending her hand. “I’m Natasha.”

I can tell by her accent that she’s Russian. I try to not shiver when I shake her hand, my fingers trembling as I touch her skin.

A blonde man dressed in a black suit with a star on it steps forward, extending his hand with a slight smirk. “I’m Steve. We’ve already met.”

My hand shakes as I hesitantly take his in mine. “I thought I was being taken again,” I mumble quietly, weakly.

No one moves.

Bucky clears his throat and I examine my bare, scratched-up feet. “Is there any water on here? Or food?” At this, my stomach growls loudly. My cheeks redden in shame. Steve, Natasha, and another man laugh at the sound. Bucky and another woman remain silent, glancing at each other.

Natasha shows me to a compartment with MRIs and I grab the first one she hands me incredulously. She smiles and hands me a fork. I try to eat at a reasonable pace and struggle to remember the last time I ate, failing at both. Bucky watches me with creased brows and a slight frown, making me self-conscious. I hiccup and wipe my mouth with my hand, accepting the water Natasha brings me. I chug the liquid down, internally thrilling at the cool sensation sliding down my throat as I swallow.

A man who I didn’t see before pokes his head out of the pilot’s cockpit and announces that we’re taking off. I give my trash to Bucky, who smiles gently at me and hands me a black zip-up hoodie. The air in the jet is cooler than I’m accustomed to, but I hadn’t noticed because of my fixation on the food and water. I pull the hoodie on and shiver, breathing in the smell of fresh laundry. My eyes water again and I wipe away the tears discreetly. It has been so long since I’ve worn clean clothes and to smell them is heaven. I don’t plan on falling asleep, but I can’t fight the fatigue that washes over my body and let unconsciousness overcome me.


Victoria mumbles something in her sleep, shifting slightly in my lap. I massage her scalp with the fingers on my flesh hand; when she sighs, I can’t help but smile. Looking at her pains me: her face is littered with cuts, bruises, and blood; her lips are cut; her hair was thrown in a messy, greasy ponytail with tendrils falling out, but she removed the band and her hair now falls freely; her skin is ghastly pale from lack of sunlight and proper nutrients; her fingernails are bitten low and caked with dirt and dried blood; her whole body is toned but extremely skinny. My heart clenches as I think about what she had to go through to get like this. Sam sits across from me, watching silently. I ignore him and focus on the small girl resting in my lap, thinking of ways to rain endless hell on her torturers.

“Barnes,” Sam says. I look up at him. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to make sure she feels safe. Do you have a problem with that?”

Sam throws his hands up. “Hey, man, I was just asking. We just found her and you haven’t let go of her yet. It’s freaking me out.”

I shrug. “I can’t stop thinking about that base. It was exactly like Siberia, and she was trapped there for most of her life, probably. Just training and killing.”

Sam smiles sadly. “She’s gonna be alright, man. We got her out.”

That’s the thing. She won’t be alright. The nightmares never stop.

I just nod, knowing there’s no way he could ever understand what it’s like to lose control of yourself and not know how to get it back. I glance to my left at Steve, who’s looking at Victoria’s head in my lap. He frowns and we meet eyes.

“What are we going to do?” He asks. “Is she like you?”

Twisting a lock of hair around my finger, I shake my head. “No. She’s nothing like me.”


My whole body aches. I wrench my eyelids open, exhausting any energy I have with the simple task, and blink to get rid of the fuzzy spots obstructing my vision. I bring my hand to my face, brushing hair out of the way, and notice the heart rate monitor on my index finger. I freeze and glance around the room: clean, white sheets on my small bed; bright lights from the overhead fluorescents; a wide, wall-length window to my right a barrier for the snow storm outside; a bedside table with a button labeled “Press when you wake if no one is there.”

After a few seconds of speculation I press the button.

Almost instantaneously, three men crash through the doorway, startling me. I jump and cry out when I feel a slight ripping sensation from my side. The men crowd my bed, all bulk and muscle and moving mouths. It overwhelms me and I throw my head against a pillow, motioning for them to stop. I clench my teeth and breathe in sharply, focusing on the dark-haired, blue-eyed man to my left. Bucky. I recognize the blonde, Steve, at the foot of my bed. The three men smile at me and I sigh, the heart monitor beeping incessantly.

“Welcome back, Victoria,” the man to my right says. He looks less intimidating than the other two with his shock of messy hair and thick-rimmed glasses. He has on a lab coat and a nametag that reads “Dr. Banner.”

“Where am I?” I question groggily. I’m shocked at how raw my voice sounds. “How long have I been here?”

Dr. Banner scratches his neck. “You’re at the Avengers’ compound’s medical bay. You’ve been in an induced coma for two weeks.”

My heartbeat jumps. “Two weeks? Why was I out for so long?”

He smiles gently and adjusts his glasses. “When we found you in Nairobi, you were severely malnourished and dehydrated. You also had several severe, untreated wounds: three broken ribs, a ruptured appendix, a sprained wrist, and a punctured lung. If we wouldn’t have found you when we did, you would have died within twenty four hours. We took you into surgery as soon as you arrived and it took six and a half hours to set your bones, fix your lung, and remove your appendix. You’d experienced too much trauma, so we decided to induce your coma so you could rest and heal with no problems.”

My brain feels muddled as I try to say something. “Oh.”

Bucky breathes out a laugh. “You’re healing now. Sleep. You deserve it.”

“If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask,” Steve says. He hands me a small box with what looks like an interactive screen. He touches the surface and it lights up, much to my surprise. I still don’t trust these men, but I act civil to gain their trust. I’m not sure what it is, so I listen carefully to Steve’s advice on how to use the “phone.” I remember my home phone from my childhood and it looked nothing like the one he holds in his hand, but I don’t say anything. I’m not surprised the world improved their technology while I was trapped. Progress doesn’t halt for one person.

Steve and Dr. Banner exit, leaving me alone with Bucky. I look up at him and he smiles. “Tired?”

I nod my head, my eyelids weighing a hundred pounds, begging me to sleep. Bucky walks to the door and flicks off the light. He returns to my bedside and kisses me on the forehead softly. “Rest. I’ll check on you in a couple hours.” I’m asleep before he closes the door.


Genji/McCree with an S/O with absolutely downright terrible insomnia? How would they go about helping their S/O?

Heya!! I’m alive again everyone, and hopefully I’ll be able to keep up with my schedule again now that finals have finally ended and I survived. I actually loved this prompt because while I don’t have insomnia, I usually end up staying up very late because I’m too anxious too fall asleep. Turns out all I needed to do was get off my butt and make some tea to chill out, but insomnia obviously isn’t that easy.

Hope you enjoy these scenarios my friend! And I also hope the s/o likes tea, because that’s what I’m making them drink ahaaa <3

*If I get anything about the prompt incorrect or you find that it wasn’t what you were looking for, then please let me know and I’ll try my best to fix any mistakes in writing! 

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HP!headcanon - BTS V

|| WIZARDINGBIAS - where your fave bands live in hakho’s hogwarts au ||

Character Headcanons
↳ BTS V // Taehyung Marshall // Gryffindor

Originally posted by hellosarang

  • okay this boi will be the death of me and im not even a taehyung stan
  • Why is this boy a Gyffindor?
  • lemme tell ya listen up, buckle up, put on that strap
  • strap on
  • more under the cut hoes

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macaronighost-deactivated201507  asked:

wasn't there a story about mr. moses that involved a steak dinner? i really want to hear more about this amazing teacher (:

Ah, yeah, I forgot that I’d gotten an anon about this same thing earlier!

So sorry to the anon I overlooked; I promise it wasn’t on purpose. I’ve just had a wicked crazy week. :P

So there’s not much of a story behind the steak dinner, except more of Mr. Moses being the most kind and wonderful teacher ever. We were working on our final Physics projects; each of us had a different topic, and we each designed, created, and ran our own lab experiences/experiments to learn the point and illustrate them to the rest of the class. I was doing one involving laser dynamics, and how they calculated the distance to the moon by bouncing a laser off a mirror. I don’t recall exactly what principles it was supposed to teach, so maybe i didn’t do a very good job of it…

Anyway, we were staying after school to work on the projects, because one hour a day is not nearly long enough to do what we needed to. So we just stayed behind in the office while Mr. Moses was out on his bus route taking people home; he even left us a bag of little craft project bracelets to do so we wouldn’t be bored until he could get back and unlock the shop for us. We spent most of the time running around the empty halls and throwing paper airplanes at each other, to be honest. Have you ever been in a school after-hours? It’s a totally magical, surreal, and slightly terrifying place. We were having a blast, though, until we realized that it was nearing 5 o’clock and Mr. Moses still wasn’t back. School got out at 3:15, and he was always done with his route by 4:30 at the latest. The janitor was almost done with the main building, and we were about to be locked in. Alone. In the school. Just the four of us, 3 girls beginning to panic and one guy who was asleep in the corner of the principal’s office.

Then we heard it. Banging at the glass door, scratching on the metal frame, and a strange rustling, jangling sound. I’m fairly certain that if I hadn’t gone to the bathroom just 10 minutes before I would have peed my pants. It wasn’t the janitor– she was down in the library, we could hear the vacuum. It didn’t even occur to us that it might have been Mr. Moses, because he had a set of keys and could just walk right in. But it was Mr. Moses, indeed; his arms were full of bags from the grocery store around the block, and he had the biggest grin on his face.

He had stopped to get food to cook for us while we were working on our projects, because he said he knew that good work required brain fuel. Also, he’d just fixed his grill and wanted an excuse to use it. His twin girls, who were about our age but went to a different school, had met him at the store to pick up a propane grill tank, and were over at the shop setting up the grill.

I don’t think it’s what he had intended, but we never worked harder or faster than we did smelling that delicious food sizzling away on the grill. It also helped that his girls were hilarious and just as smart as their dad, and they had no problems helping us work on our projects. They also had no problems goofing off with us, in particular by playing literal hot potato with one of the baked potatoes that had just come off the grill. I don’t remember who started it, but here came a plate of potatoes out of the back and suddenly one of the foil-wrapped splatter bombs was flying through the air with everyone screaming “Hot potato, get it? HOT POTATO!!!!” I didn’t get in on the madness, of course; not only am I notoriously clumsy and always the first to get hurt, I was covered in gorilla glue trying to stabilize a mirror on my experiment apparatus. I was also terrified that we were going to get in trouble when the inevitable happened. And it did.


They all stood around the steaming carcass of the dead potato, staring at it and clearly wondering where the broom was so they could get rid of the evidence before Mr. Moses came in…. But he’d heard the screaming and come running, tongs still in hand and holding a piece of half-cooked meat between the pincers, a lab apron in place of a chef’s apron and chemistry goggles askew over his glasses. We stared at him, he stared at us, and we were certain that we were going to hear him yell for the first time ever.

He turned around, walked back into the shop without a word… And came back sans tongs and plus gloves, grabbed the digital thermometer we’d been using for one of the other projects about thermodynamics, and instructed us to start keeping notes. “We’re going to time how long it takes this potato to get down to cool 20 degrees, so we can do the calculations to figure out how cold the floor is! Quick, it’s already down 2 degrees! Someone stick a thermometer in one of the other potatoes for a control!”

Not only was he a scientist at heart–seeing opportunity for learning and experimentation rather than culinary tragedy–he was yet again an astounding example of patience. He could have lectured us about not goofing off, and about how we were supposed to be working. He could have gotten mad at us for not “appreciating” the dinner he was making for us out of the kindness of his heart. Instead, he recognized that we were having fun, and knew that the real value in what he was doing for us wasn’t as much the food as it was the memories we were making.

That’s still one of my most powerful memories of Mr. Moses; the way he looked standing over that potato, and seeing the terror on my classmates’ faces as they realized that he could–and had a right to–get mad… But didn’t. I remember seeing the look cross his face, that moment of exasperation and annoyance, but it passed over and left a smile in its place that stuns me to this day. It was such a simple thing, but it meant so much to me that he was wise enough to recognize that life is too short to get upset over the metaphorical fallen potatoes. I don’t remember what our findings were about the heat transfer capacity of concrete and baked potatoes, but I do remember the man who could have been the stern adult, but chose instead to find the joy and wonder in the world, and an opportunity to not only teach, but learn, himself.

His Soldier - Part 4

Hey guys! So, I have part 4 here, and I’m thinking this series will end in either 1 or 2 chapters. I don’t know yet. Just wanted to let you know. Kinda boring in the beginning, but it gets a little more intense near the end.

Anyway, I hope you all enjoy!

@sparkleywonderful @hellosunshine26 @regularlyconfused @dr-woodsprite @the-bookish-soul


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“I don’t.. I don’t understand.”

“It’s a moon bounce.”

“My father owns a rocket.
I’m familiar with weightlessness.”

“That isn’t the point.”

“And what is the point?”

“You’re a ten-year-old-boy who doesn’t know how to have fun.”

“I wasn’t raised to have fun.”

“Then why are you smiling?”

“I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I am not.

"Sure looks like a smile.”

“I’m thinking about stabbing you.”

“Which would be fun?”


- Batgirl Vol 3 #17(2011)

More Than Enough

Pairings- Bucky Barnes x Reader

Bucky thinks he isn’t good enough for the reader and tries to..well, read and find out, I don’t wanna spoil this. A bit of angst.

Might have some swearing.

   The facts had to be faced, and the fact to be faced right now was that you were popular.

  Not that Bucky minded that. He delighted in the fact that everyone adored his girl, as long as they didn’t adore her too much.

  Right now, though, he really thought you were being adored too much.

“My (y/n)!” yelled a child, pulling at your hand.
“No, mine!” yelled another, pulling at your other hand. There were children surrounding you, most of them adoring and seeking your attention. You yourself were laughing.

  “Nobody’s (y/n),” you said. “Everyone’s (y/n).”

  You were at a birthday party- one of your close friend’s daughter’s. There was a whole separate area for the adults away from the kids’ moon bounce and temporary tattoo artist and whatnot.

  But your friend’s eight year old daughter had immediately dragged you away with her friends, and you had gone gladly.

  The kids all loved you- you were fun. You talked to them, yelled with them, sat in the grass with them, told them stories and listened to them telling you stories…

 Your boyfriend Bucky was cautiously watching from a distance. You had dragged him along with you on this thing, and now you felt guilty. You motioned for him to come over and he did, albeit slowly and nervously.

  “Guys, I’d like everyone to meet my friend, Bucky,” you said to the kids, who immediately burst into a chorus of “Hi, Bucky!”s.

  Bucky flinched a little. “Hey kids,” he said with a small chuckle.

“Is Bucky your boooooyyfriend?” one of the kids, a little girl of about seven, asked slyly.

  Before you could reply, Bucky replied for you.

“Yes, I am,” he said quickly.

  The birthday girl and her friend exchanged quick looks, then jumped up.

“Come with us, we have to talk to you,” they said solemnly, leading him away from you.

  Bucky gave you an alarmed look over his shoulder as the two children dragged him away.

You came back home in good spirits, full of cake and ice cream. You waltzed into your apartment, with Bucky following you looking very, very subdued.

“Buck, something wrong?” you asked him, stopping short and frowning.

“Huh? No, nothings wrong, (y/n),” he said, before heading directly to the bedroom.

  You stared after him, surprised. His reply felt curt- his tone wasn’t soothing or pleasant as usual, and he called you by your first name instead of the many nicknames he had given you.

  Still, maybe he was tired. The kids had glimpsed his metal arm by accident and wanted to hear the story behind it, which you hurriedly made up. Then they wanted him to pick them all up. And they wanted rides. He had obliged them all in his quiet manner.

  You decided to make him some supper, and then give him a massage, perhaps.

  You went to the bedroom you and Bucky shared. He had undressed himself and changed into pyjamas.

  “(y/n),” he said softly. “We need to talk.”

 In any of your previous relationships, this statement would’ve made you freeze in your tracks.

  “Hm, what’s the matter, hon?” you asked him, searching for some lounger pants in your closet.

  “(y/n),” he said, and you heard his break a little.

 You turned around, a frown on your face.

 “(y/n), I can’t be with you anymore,” he said.

That instant, it felt as if the world came crashing down on you. You just stood there for a few seconds as his words sunk in. A lump came to your throat.

 “B-Bucky, what are you talking about?” you asked breathlessly.

“We can’t be together anymore, (y/n). I’m sorry,” he said, looking at the ground. “I’ll move out as soon as I can.”

  You needed to sit down. Finding your support in your soft bed, you sat down on the edge, stunned.

 “W-why? Bucky, what’s wrong? We-we were going perfectly fine…” you said, your tone disbelieving. This couldn’t be happening. You and Bucky were in love. He couldn’t- he wouldn’t leave you.

  “Is it someone else?” you asked, your heart breaking to pieces. “Are you seeing someone behind my back?”

 “No!” said Bucky, looking up with his eyes wide. “No, doll, I would never do that!”

  “Then why?” you choked. You didn’t want to cry- you wanted to rage and storm. But tears flowed down your face anyway.

  “(y/n), please don’t make this harder than it is,” Bucky said, his own eyes looking moist.

  “If it’s hard then why are you doing this?”

 “Because!” said Bucky, frustrated and upset. “You won’t understand.”

 “I won’t understand?” you asked, standing up. “I won’t understand? Then explain, Barnes! If I can understand your PTSD and your nightmares, your irrational jealousy and morbid fears, then maybe I can understand why you want to leave me!” You were yelling now.

  “Well that‘s why!” he yelled back. “My PTSD and nightmares. My past. I’m so fucked up, (y/n). And I love you. You deserve someone better than me. Someone who can give you everything you deserve.”

 “What,” you said, staring at him.

 Bucky looked like he was struggling with himself for a moment.

  “(y/n)…..I was you with those kids today. I mean, hell, you were so good with them. And I just got thinking, you’d make a terrific mother. A terrific wife. You’d make a fella really lucky. And I…we…can’t.”

  “You can’t what, Bucky?” you asked furiously. “Don’t tell me it’s some bullshit typical male fear of commitment thing!”

 “No!” Bucky cried out. “(y/n)! I can’t give you that! I want to, I want to so badly, but I can’t. I can’t give you a huge wedding and make you a radiant bride. And kids…fuck, (y/n), I wanna give you a family so bad…But how can I? How can I risk marrying you, and how can I risk having children, who might just turn out to be super soldiers as well? How can I have a family with my horrible PTSD and my still uncertain Winter Soldier programming? And…and I want you to have all that. With me. Or without me. You deserve that much. Those two kids, at the party.. when they took me aside to talk to me, they told me you were special. They told me to make sure you were happy. And…this is how I can.”

  You just stared.

 “Barnes,” you said finally, after a silence that felt deafening. “You are an idiot.”

“What?” he asked, looking confused.

  “Bucky!” you cried out exasperatedly. “You didn’t even think about asking me if I wanted all that!”

  “I-well, don’t you?” he asked.

“Kinda, but not at the price of you! I love you. Love. LOVE YOU. A family without you would be no family at all, Buck,” you said, reaching out and holding his metal hand. “I’d rather not have a wedding, I’d rather not have children. I just wanna be with you. This is what I want.”

 “Really?” Bucky asked, swallowing.

You bit your lower lip and nodded. “I love you, Sarge,” you smiled at him.

“Oh, thank god!” Bucky half yelled, exhaling in relief. “I love you too, doll. So much. So much that I couldn’t bear to keep you bereft from a family. But really, convince me to stay with you. I couldn’t live without you.”

 You kissed him deeply. “You are an idiot,” you said, moving close to him and nuzzling into his chest. “You terrified me.”

 “I terrified me, too,” Bucky mumbled into your hair before starting to kiss his way down your neck.

La voz de Sinatra hace eco en la habitación, suspiro porque la alegría acaricia mi piel, porque pienso lo dulce que es creer que los dos somos una canción que habla de amor, you kill me softly with your words. Y me muevo al compás de la música, abriendo las cortinas con mis dedos y dejando que mi piel se abrigue con el sol. Cierro los ojos y estás conmigo and I thank God I’m alive, porque estás aquí sintiendo la música, sintiendo mi amor, dejando que te cubra con mis ganas, haciendo que mi deseo se transforme en agua y bebiendo de mi anhelo que nos hace florecer a los dos and you let me see what spring is like on Jupiter and Mars y no puedo dejar de sonreír, me inundo de los recuerdos en los que coincidimos, regreso a las noches en que vagaba buscando una respuesta, en la luna que hacía de cómplice; en los lienzos en blanco que quería y  ahora quiero llenar con alguien y ese alguien eres tú. And we were strangers in the night, dos almas que coincidieron un día y que se llenan de amor con el paso de las horas, de los días, de los meses y los años que transcurren y nos abrazan para unirnos y for me it’s true, it never seemed so right before. Te abrazo, me abrazas, te beso, me besas, te susurro al oído: I’ve got you under my skin, I’ve got you deep in the heart of me. Y lo sabes, lo sientes y por eso te quedas conmigo y me abrazas más fuerte, por un momento somos uno y Sinatra sigue de fondo, para sumergirnos en lo profundo de este amor. And come fly with me, let’s fly, let’s fly away… I wanna go and bounce the moon… with you.
—  Mirage Bonhomie