oh hey i remember this

Today I went to Honey Pig with my friend and his girl friend somewhere down the street from my abode. And the semi-cute waiter was like “oh hey, i remember you… you always come in and drink by yourself”. and I’m like sooo touched that he even remembered me even though I only go there like every few weeks/months. But then it’s like, he remembered a specific detail. and I’m sorry that my friends don’t drink, which is, by the way rather tragic. But it’s so cute when people remember me even when like, I haven’t seen them in so long. So touched. 

anonymous asked:

idk if youve seen it but theres some "confession" post in the tag talking about how bucky/nat's relationship retconned nat's past. correct me if im wrong but wasn't it more like nat's past + "oh hey bucky was there too"? i cant remember what her canon was before that point but it didnt seem like it changed anything. it was more like their relationship was just added on.

Yep, I saw it and kinda rolled my eyes because that OP is clearly reacting to a telephone-chain of bad information that antis like to put out to taint everything Brubaker did with Natasha (therefore tainting all thing BuckyNat) in the minds of new fans.

Despite what some people may try to claim, Brubaker did not retcon Natasha’s backstory out of thin air just to make her Bucky girlfriend. Before Brubaker ever got to write Captain America, Natasha already had two different backstories – the Cold War spy (who may be much much older than she looks) backstory and the murder orphanage backstory. As with all things Natasha, FYBW has an in-depth write-up [Secret Origins Part 1] [Secret Origins Part 2] [Secret Origins Part 3] that I highly recommend reading, but here is a quick explanation:

Backstory 1, a.k.a. the Cold War spy backstory: So way back in 1972 (when Brubaker was all of six years old btw), Daredevil #88 laid out the groundwork for the Natasha backstory we know today – she was a war orphan that Ivan had rescued in Stalingrad, who chooses to join the KGB/becomes a Cold War spy and who later decided to defect and eventually become a superhero. Daredevil #88 came out about thirty years after the war, so the timeline made perfect sense. However, as we got further and further away from WWII, things got a little weirder. That’s when Uncanny X-Men #268 shows up in 1990. UXM #268 tells how Logan and Steve and Natasha first met in WWII:

While ignoring some of the specific details of DD #88’s timeline, UXM #268 doubles down on Natasha’s connection to WWII and is the first to suggest (but fails to explain) that Natasha is not as young as she appears to be:

The writer, Chris Claremont, left the book shortly after UXM #268, so he never went into more detail/gave any explanations for Natasha’s age. So it and the Cold War origins became a hanging plotline that more and more writers choose to ignore the further we got from the end of the Cold War and the dissolution of the Soviet Union. (Sidenote: The Red Room entered into the Black Widow mythos in 1999 with the introduction of Yelena Bolova.) Which brings us to…

Backstory 2, a.k.a. the murder orphanage retcon: 2004 was the year Marvel inflicted Richard Morgan onto Natasha, and he inflicted his murder orphanage retcon onto all of us. Morgan set out to tell a story about why sexism bad and proceeded to do so in the most mansplainy way ever with the added bonus of removing all of Natasha’s agency from her entire life. No longer did Natasha decide to join the KGB and become a spy. Nope, instead she grew up in the 1970s in a murder orphanage designed to produce perfect little spies. No longer did Natasha choose to deflect from the Soviet Union and become an Avenger. Nope, instead Nick Fury used special pheromone perfume that forced Natasha to do what he wanted. Seriously. (Keep that in mind next time these people try to claim that Brubaker retconned Natasha’s history just for Bucky’s dick. Because what they’re trying to do is convince people a gross AU retcon from a decade ago is Natasha’s ‘real’ origin story.)

SO!

Moving on to 2007 and Ed Brubaker’s run on Captain America. In an interview following the release of Captain America #27, he states:

In the Winter Soldier origin issue, which is in my second Cap trade, we show the history and the timeline, and in the late ‘50s and early ‘60s he was deep in Department X. That was an actual Soviet special section during the Cold War, where they did their experimental stuff, like brainwashing and the like. So, when I was researching it, it occurred to me that the Red Room program would have been attached to Department X, and that if the Black Widow was being trained in the late ‘50s and early ‘60s, they probably met. [X]

Brubaker either didn’t know about or actively chose to ignore a three-year-old recon, and decided to go back to Backstory 1 because it worked with the story he was trying to tell. The only thing he actually retconned was the ‘fact’ Natasha had a secret relationship with the Winter Soldier for a short time in the late 1950s. So basically all Brubaker did was bring the unaging Cold War spy backstory back into play (with a tiny extra dash of tragic romance), which was then followed by Cornell and Liu who each filled in details and shaped it into the backstory we know today.

6

from the “hey, you are my partner, okay? it’s a guy hug, take it” to the “i love you so much and i’m so worried about you that i just want to hug you to make sure you are okay”

Of Mafias and Men (End)

Parts: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13

Warning: Violence. Mentions of guns and blood.

Note: Aaaaand I really suck at keeping up with the ‘deadlines’. This was supposed to be posted ages ago, but life happened, a.k.a. school. Plus, my dread with writing endings. But hey! at least I got to write it. Hahaha!

Special thanks to Sikah, as always, for getting this far with me. Lol. And to Donia!!! ;) Your comments were really helpful. 

It would be awesome if anyone reading this would also extend this thanks to these two lovely people~ haha

Thank you to you, too. For getting this far~

Shoutout to @kikichanheartsmimi. I have not forgotten this. Never. :D

Pairing: Jaehyun/ Y/N / Taeyong

Originally posted by nctuhohahyes


Cold. 

Dangerous.

But all too familiar.

It evoked feelings of carnage she didn’t know existed within the depths of her being.

She only held it once. In training where she was supposed to defend herself and protect others. Taeyong had been very specific and firm in his words.

“Only use it when absolutely necessary.”

Would this count as one? she wondered.

To defend herself. And to protect him.

Y/N smirked at the helpless figure lying face down on the immaculate floor of Dong Sicheng’s mansion.

It was so clear it even reflected her menacing figure and the bloodlust smirk on her red-painted lips. Y/N almost didn’t recognize herself in the bright red gown that accentuated the shade of her skin. The diamond jewelries, that must have been Taeyong’s demand, sparkled in the light.

Right. She remembered why she was there. A gathering of Sicheng’s business partners over the years.

Yet, there was evil in her eyes.

His precious blood pooled, gushing out of his open wound, making a small river, coming and resting beneath her feet, staining her glittery heeled party shoes.

The black suit which he wore slowly became soiled. His white hair was disheveled from their struggle earlier followed by his immediate fall.

Taeyong lifted up his face to meet hers. His big dark eyes no longer sparkled. They were imploring her for mercy.

“Please…” Taeyong sounded weak and breathless. The pain from his gunshot must have been unbearable now, Y/N deduced. Yet, instead of feeling sympathy, it gave her a sense of satisfaction that he was suffering.

As a payment for everything Taeyong has done to her and to him.

Looking down at him, Y/N raised her hands and locked them in position. Nestled in her perfectly manicured hands was a silver handgun, a Magnum, the most powerful in the world.

Her wicked reflection stared back at her on the cold metal of the gun.

There was no longer an ounce of pity within her.

With a last smirk, Y/N pulled the trigger.


Y/N felt surreal as she couldn’t shake off the last vestiges of her dream. No. Nightmare.

Everything felt real. From the details of her red dress to her painted nails, even Taeyong’s suit. It felt foreboding, even as Y/N tried to ignore it.

They already had arrived at the venue which was lavishly decorated. Dong Sicheng, more commonly known as Winwin to his acquaintances and business partners, did not hold back with the decorations.

Everything had been bright. The gigantic chandelier that hung above them illuminated everything. Elaborate floral arrangements were the centerpieces of maybe a hundred cloth-covered tables, each with expensive china for dinnerware.

The Dark Gaze Association only sent a small party of representatives: Taeyong and his closest friends, Ten, Yuta, and Donghyuck, and of course, her.

At least, she was thankful the firm pressure of Taeyong’s grip on her wrist, though edging on painful, was keeping her grounded to reality.

“Tae,” Y/N whispered, wincing at how tight his grip was that it would surely leave a mark.

Only a cold hard gaze met her in reply.

It pained her to see the traces of the old Taeyong were gone. She shook her head. No. Even if what he was showing her was the detached side he was known for, Y/N knew Lee Taeyong was still in there somewhere.

“You’re not leaving my side.” His voice came out hard like stone. Unyielding.

“Why not?” she couldn’t help but ask. Her stubbornness, which caused trouble for her, was peeking out.

“Y/N,” he warned her. “You’re not going away…You’re not leaving me.”

The last part came out as a whisper.

What she didn’t understand was what Taeyong was so afraid of? It was not like she could run away. There was nowhere for her to go because his mafia family will always find her and her family.

Not only that, she did not want to leave his side.

“I’m not going to, Tae,” Y/N whispered back. She hoped her words would reassure him. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m not leaving you.”

Taeyong took one last look at her and for a moment, the unfeeling shell he had put on himself momentarily melted until he must have seen how shifty her eyes were, trying to observe the surroundings that he decided that she was lying and was back to being cold again.

Y/N winced again at Taeyong’s harsh grip on her. She met his eyes and he with hers. There was a moment of silence where they tried to size each other up before she first gave up.

“You’re never gonna let me go, are you?” she whispered again. Her mind wandered back to her dream. Taeyong looked helpless then, contrary to how dangerous he looked now.

“Never,” was his firm answer.

Just then, there was a mic feedback, indicating an announcement of new arrivals.

“Welcome, White Phantoms.”

Y/N felt Taeyong freeze. His grip on her wrist almost unbearable. It will surely leave a bruise now.

“Tae…”

Observing his face, she saw how his demeanor changed. His eyes became more intense and alert, ready for any sort of confrontation. His jaw and lips were set in a tight line. And although he kept his expression neutral, Y/N could tell they were his enemies.

Oddly, she had never heard they existed until now.

She also didn’t understand why he was so charged towards said mafia until she spun around to see who they were.

The name seemed fitting.

Where Taeyong and his posse wore all black, White Phantoms were the total opposites.

They all wore white ensembles with accents of gold-plated metal and brown leather. Yet, Y/N had long learned to not be fooled because even the lightness of their clothes did little to hide their ruthless aura.

And in the middle of it all, Y/N saw a familiar face.

Actually, all of them had been familiar to her. She had met them at the front of the coffee shop and even went to an amusement park.

‘Doyoung, Mark, and Taeil.’

But her focus wasn’t on them, but rather on the single person leading the group.

It finally dawned on her why he was lethal in fights and why he was capable with a gun.

Everything was falling into pieces.

Y/N was staring into the familiar face of Jung Jaehyun.

Taeyong squeezed her hand and tried to shield her from the sight. But she stepped to side. She wanted to see. Jaehyun, especially.

How could he?

A guilty expression momentarily flitted across his face before a steely one replaced it as it dawned on him where her loyalties lie.

The air was charged, almost electric. She could tell both mafia groups could not be in the same room without trouble breaking. Glares were exchanged as well as high-caliber guns were being displayed.

Tension was so palpable one could cut it with a knife.

Y/N broke free out of Taeyong’s hold to run over to Jaehyun and to talk to him, but she didn’t even get a chance.

The first shot rang loud and clear in the area and soon, chaos broke. She was lost in the bodies rushing for cover.

Even with her well-trained eyes, Y/N failed to see who fired first.

More gunshots erupted. To her, it seemed to come from everywhere all at once. Women, who came to celebrate, screamed as they sought for safety. Glasses broke as they were shoved off overturned tables.

What was supposed to be a night of celebration quickly descended to hell as both groups exchanged shots.

Even the host, Winwin, could do nothing to stop the war-like chaos that ensued.

The cacophony almost made her go deaf. She didn’t even know where to run or seek shelter. That was until a hand reached out to grab hers.

Looking up, she was staring into the wide and alert eyes of Jaehyun.

“Y/N,” he said, a little breathless from the commotion. In his hand was a silver Magnum. The one she held in her dream.

“Let go of her.”

The two of them froze at the sound of Taeyong’s harsh tone. They both turned towards the source of his voice and saw the young heir of the Dark Gaze Association standing at the bottom of the grand staircase.

There was still pandemonium all around them, but for a moment, it seemed that the three of them were locked in their own world where time slowed down.

Taeyong had his golden Magnum trained on Jaehyun’s chest. Moving a single muscle, Y/N assumed, would result to instant death, perhaps, not only Jaehyun’s but also hers.

“Y/N, come—“

Taeyong didn’t even get to finish his command as a shot rang from somewhere and hit him on the back.

To Y/N, everything seemed to be in slow motion. There was a pounding in her heart as she witnessed Taeyong’s body fall on the pristine floor. Her eyes could only widen in shock as she searched everywhere for the assailant. Only, she found none.

And even when she wanted to run to him, her body remained rooted to the spot. She could only watch in horror as his blood soon pooled underneath him.

It was just like in her dream.

“Tae!” She was about to run to him when Jaehyun held her.

“Tae!” The rest of his group rushed to his aid.

With one fluid motion, Jaehyun cocked his gun and trained it on Taeyong’s almost still body. Y/N watched as his eyes were drained with humanity.

He was intent on firing.

Tears pooled in her eyes as she threw her arms around Jaehyun to stop him.

“Please…don’t…”

Y/N stayed like that for a moment before she heard someone grunt behind her. To her horror, as she spun towards the sound, Taeyong tried to stand up, held by the others.

“What’s keeping you from shooting me?” Taeyong coughed before spitting out some of the blood on to the floor.

“We should get you patched up,” Ten said, face stoic but eyes worried.

Donghyuck was keeping silent as he held Taeyong under his arms, and it was only Yuta who was glaring at Y/N, as if already tagging her as an enemy.

“Her,” Jaehyun replied with a leveled voice. Then with a smirk, he added, “And I’m going to enjoy taking everything away from you.”

He grasped Y/N by her right arm and twisted it so it was now at the back. She recoiled at the pain. Never did she imagine Jaehyun to turn out rough.

There were a couple more excruciating coughs from Taeyong. His breath became more ragged by the second. However, he managed to say, “Casper…no.”

It made Y/N’s chest ache to see Taeyong in so much pain, but as a last attempt to save him from getting shot, she tried to face Jaehyun with her arm in danger of dislocating.

“Jae, I’ll go with you,” Y/N managed to say in a calm manner even when her insides were rattling in panic. 

She tried to look into his eyes, and it registered hurt for a moment before it was replaced with a cruel one. A bitter smirk crossed his lips, and he no longer looked like the Jaehyun she knew.

Jaehyun leaned closer to her.

The act itself made Taeyong’s blood boil. He would have shot Jaehyun if he weren’t in such a weak state.

“How does it feel that she chose me, hyung?” Jaehyun said the honorific in a mocking way.

Taeyong’s eye flew to her, begging for her to stay. “Y/N, please don’t.”

Turning to face Taeyong again, she smiled bravely. “I’ll make this right again, Tae. I promise— “

“Let’s go, Y/N.” Jaehyun tugged on her arm and pulled her away from him, from his group, from everything.

There was nothing else Y/N could do as she was dragged away from the scene.

“Promise me you won’t hurt him,” Y/N managed to tell Jaehyun even with her difficult position.

However, a wicked smile crossed his lips.

“I no longer make promises.”

And just like that, she was taken away by Jaehyun.




Note: And it’s finally done! Can you also tell that I’ve been delaying this ending because I hate writing endings so much? But now this is done, I can move on to other fics.

As always, I would like to say thank you to everyone who has read and loved this series. For sending me messages as well as participating in the polls.

And since it’s only like an hour before Christmas, I hope you all will have a Merry one! :D

P.S. This may or may not get a sequel in the future. ;)

3

(LONG DISTANCE RELATIONSHIP)

Au donde Martín y Manuel pololean por skype. Y se mandan paquetes en los aniversarios, el primer mes Martín le mandó un paquete de puros picos dulces ‘cuz madurez, Manuel le mandó una bolsa de sunny’s porque él si es un pololo serio.

Y pobre. 

Se conocieron en un foro de los 2000′s, y ven películas por internetz todas las semanas. Manuel siempre elije películas de terror porque Martín las odia, y a cambio Martín lo hace ver películas extranjeras de corte artístico. Es el pololeo más cómodo de la existencia.

Al principio no era tan en serio.

Obvio que después es super duper en serio y Martín empieza a ahorrar en secreto pa’ viajar.

(P.D: HOLY FUCK I HAD A TABLET AND I HAD HANDS AND I CAN  KIND OF DRAW, ISN’T THIS FUCKING AMAZIng?)

Oh.

Oh okay so I guess this is what we’re doing today.

Of course Ronaldo would put a name that dramatic to his project.

This is so textbook paranormal documentary it’s actually kind of funny.

Also you don’t have the commentator voice Ronaldo, just give it up.

Yeah the wonders of a revolving chair comes with the effect of making you look ridiculous.

That’s why I use a normal chair in my computer.

Oh hey, remember when that happened?

Good times.

a little farmers market thing

The op of this post said i could write something based on their headcanon so here it is.

ETA: now jaradel and I are co-writing this verse, over at AO3!

-

How he can wear flannel in this weather is anyone’s guess.

But Bitty doesn’t mind the way he sweats as he moves carts of ripe tomatoes and bulbous squashes from truck to table. A bead glistens at his forehead, slides down the slope of his nose to linger on the tip of his chin. His arms stretch taut, muscles bunched, around the crates as he hefts them. The mop of dark hair above his eyebrows is damp, misshapen from the press of his baseball cap, discarded at the side of the register. As Bitty watches, a tuft of bangs becomes unmoored from where he’s combed it aside and flops down almost to his eyes. He doesn’t move to dislodge it. Bitty itches to cross the aisle and slide in behind the Zimmermann Farms table, lift one hand and brush it out of the way without a single word.

He bites his lip and looks down at his own table. Really, he should be rearranging the scones or sorting the loaves or something, but every single week, as this “Mr. Zimmermann” (Bitty has no idea of his first name) unloads his wares, Bitty’s reduced to a staring, flushing mess. Nobody ought to look like that. Nobody especially ought to look like that when they’re toting vegetables. It almost makes Bitty want to eat a healthy diet. Or grow green beans. Or something, some excuse to have a conversation with this square-jawed, droopy-eyed farmer who, when he smiles at a customer, makes Bitty’s toes curl up in his sandals. Maybe he should pick up some rhubarb for a pie.

Yes, rhubarb… and it’s a little early in the season for pumpkins, but when fall rolls around maybe he’ll have pumpkins and … and oh dear Bitty is staring isn’t he.

Keep reading

Can we chill?

Can we chill,
Set the night on cruise control
Perhaps dabble in a little bit of foreplay.
Can we vibe,
So when we kiss I feel some kind of bliss.
Maybe it can slowly escalate.

We can laugh, smoke a blunt.
Or just chill,
Sleep the night away in each others embrace.
We can involve ourselves in intellectual conversations.
Discuss politics or discuss the Art of Partimento.

Perhaps we can play some music,
Get silly have a shot or two maybe three.
Oh hey, I just remembered, I kept your bells in my cupboard maybe you and I could take a swig and elongate the night ahead.

See, I’m not really here to downplay.
All I wanna do is chill, and laugh.
Go on adventures, or sometimes just have a lazy day and watch movies in bed as we lay.

Can we chill,
Perhaps vibe a little.
And let the night take us away?

~Naz

(Unfinished)