point you to the mirror

misc soulmate aus

- You get to 18, then don’t age at all until you meet your soulmate

- you are born with a few unique tattoos, which only your soulmate shares. When they die, your tattoos burn off

- whenever your soulmate feels an intense emotion, you feel the opposite. They just lost their parents to a war? You’re having the time of your life, despite knowing the reason why you’re so happy is because your soulmate is dying inside

- their signature appears on the back of your neck at a random point in time

- their last name appears on your wrist at a random point in time

- streaks of their hair colour start to appear in your hair and vice versa

- one of your eyes slowly starts to change to match theirs and vice versa

- when you look in the mirror at a random point in your life, you see them. Even if it’s after they’ve died

- everybody knows your soulmate but you. It’s illegal to say

Add some more if you want!

OKAY BUT WHY: 67 questions that have popped into my head in the past 24 hours

In stream-of-consciousness order:

1. Skull hell.
2. Why kill Mary if she’s good
3. Why was the hospital dedicated in 2044
4. Why is he writing the blog post about the baby being born in an image file befORE THE BABY WAS BORN
5. What the hell was John’s letter to Sherlock and why do we never hear anything about it again
6. Why was the lady Carmichael mirror so perfect we could predict actual dialogue lines (“You promised!”)
7. Why did TAB “PROVE” Moriarty was dead when it only proved you need a friend to help you make the blood splatter
8. WHO WAS TAKING CARE OF THE BABY WHEN EVERYONE HE KNOWS IS AT THE THERAPIST’S HOUSE
9. How did John get out of the stupid well if his fucking feet were chained to the bottom
10. Why does a gun go off at the end of TLD, but in TFP it’s a tranquilizer
11. Why bring up that romantic entanglement “would complete you as a human being” if you don’t return to it
12. How did Mary jump in front of a bullet, and why is her death scene just like the “Hollywood deaths” that they criticized when Sherlock was shot
13. Why did nobody know who John was in TLD when in THoB everyone knew it was his blog (he fucking writes it in the first person)
14. Why is the blog stopped since S4 starts
15. How does EVERYONE know the story of the Merchant of Samarra when it’s not actually that common
16. How does Mary know to call him a Dragonslayer
17. How did Sherlock know that Ghost!Mary was saying he should wear the hat
18. How did John make the deduction about how Sherlock figured out how he knew which therapist he would choose and when he’d be there
19. How did John have an affair with a woman but he DOESN’T RECOGNIZE HER WHEN SHE’S SITTING RIGHT IN FRONT OF HIM AT THERAPY
20. Why has Mycroft been so clearly linked to Moriarty
21. Why set up that footage of a shooting can be altered
22. Why have Culverton say that line about revealing your secret to your friends when it’s completely irrelevant thereafter
23. How did Lastrade know about Sherlock killing Magnussen anD MARY’S PAST
24. If Mycroft knew who Mary is then why didn’t he ever say anything
25. What happened to the stupid black pearl
          a. What’s the point of DI Hopkins
26. Mirrors
          a. You will John-style never convince me that these mirrors were a lie
27. Making history? What history
28. Promos
          a. Sitting in the “married ones” room with the burnout in the shape of an                anatomical heart
          b. “Sherlock’s in love, but with who”—is this really just to be cruel
29. How does Mary know where to go when he texts “the curtain rises” but texts John the actual address
30. Let’s talk about the mysterious crypt lair that Sherlock has for ONE SCENE and then never returns to
31. How come the Six Thatchers was already a different case they had done on the blog
32. Vatican Cameos
33. Umbrella sword gun
34. James or John
35. Mrs. Turner next door has got married ones
36. What was Sherlock going to say on the tarmac
37. What couldn’t John tell Ella after Sherlock died
38. And why does Sherlock go to see Ella and talk about a recurring dream in a weird ass attic office but it never comes back around
39. Gerridebs is their favorite case but it’s made into the biggest “no homo” joke
40. Why be obsessed with Sherlock’s sex life
41. Why does the AGRA drive look different
42. How do you survive being exploded from a second story flat with no injuries
          a. You. Don’t.
43. How can you possibly redeem Euros after everything she’s done
44. Why did Euros have a random breakdown in the middle of her grand plan—ALSO THE WHOLE PLANE MAKES NO SENSE
45. Why were people not more worried about how she killed Victor
46. “Drowned Redbeard”—an ACTUAL CHILD was missing and the suspect said this and they didn’t think to check all the fucking wells
47. How did his family all agree to pretend that Redbeard was a dog and never mention his sister ever again
48. WHERE IS MORIARTY’S BODY
49. Euros appears to have super mind-control powers?
50. WHAT ABOUT THE FREAKING MEMORY DRUG
51. Why has every episode been focused on how relationships are more important than the stories, but then Video!Mary is all like “relationships don’t matter because YAY detective stories”
52. Why did Euros just leave John after she tranq’d him
53. Whole episode is about how his childhood is what makes Sherlock who he is but ends episode with “but who you are doesn’t really matter”
          a. Great man -> good man? Eh. Doesn’t really matter.
54. The camera error in TST
55. How did they get onto the boat? A helicopter? Why not just take it to the island? How did Sherlock get inside as a member of the team? They only found John and Mycroft
56. How was the chess game promo a spoiler
57. Why was he using twitter in TST but then John was surprised he was on social media in TLD
58. Lamp hell.
59. What was the lie in TLD
60. Why was the episode called the final problem? The final problem was established to be to burn the heart out of him
61. Why is the static in Sherrinford a weird waterfall
62. Why did Sherlock paste John’s face on the Vetruvian Man (okay this wasn’t S4 but also I CANNOT LET THIS GO)
63. Why wasn’t Euros in the family video and why did noBODY EVER BRING HER UP IN SHERLOCK’S LIFE AGAIN— “Euros may have been my daughter but Sherlock seems to want to forget she existed entirely so let’s all pretend we didn’t have a daughter”
64. Why are all the villains textually queer
65. Who is the woman in the photo who was looking out the window holding an elephant
66. Why did Sherlock say that Mary destroyed the AGRA drive, when it was John
67. 26 pages of dialogue.

Add ur own! 

🌸🌸ways to practice self-care!!!🌸🌸

-take a warm bath with a cup of Epsom salt and a few drops of essential oils (like eucalyptus!!)
-make a healthy fruit smoothie with your favorite fruit🍒🍌🍓
-take a nap!!
-stretch out your entire body. there are some helpful videos on YouTube that can help you if you don’t know where to start! I really like blogilates for this kind of thing but do what works for you!!
-volunteer at your local soup kitchen or pet shelter🐶🐱
-write down all of your distracting thoughts in a diary
-write down your aspirations and dreams and try to make concrete (and manageable) plans on how to achieve them
-spend time with your family or pets
-bake!! if you really want to spice it up, try making something without a recipe
-drink your favorite kind of tea or hot cocoa
-do a hair and face mask and chill out while you wait for them to make you glo
-go on a walk/run. if you don’t have the motivation to go alone, try calling a friend or family member or taking a pet with you
-cook something with strong spices like tumeric or cinnamon to activate your senses👅
-read your favorite book or a book that you associate with a good time in your life
-clean your room or a part of your house. you’d be surprised how good you’ll feel after you clear some clutter from your physical surroundings
-drink a glass of cold water
-talk to a person you like (who is warm and nice to you)
-look in a mirror and point out 5 things you like about yourself, physical or not
-go for a walk in a natural setting like a park or trail (bonus if you’re barefoot!! connecting to nature will make you feel surprisingly better)

Fun Fact:

During the girls escape from the Dollhouse, while the Soul Room is burning… the girls are face to face with a black hoodie that’s staring in at them from the other side of a 2 way mirror. I maintain that this was actually just a mannequin, and not a person… but that’s besides the point.

In this literal smoke and mirrors… you can see the girls’ reflection. Look who’s lined up perfectly with the A hoodie?

Spencer.

That does not feel like an accident.

Stop 😭

Me: You need to stop obsessing Hamilton. *Points to self in the mirror*

Also Me: mUST OBSESS HAMILTON, LISTEN ALL THE SONGS, MUST READ FANFICTION *screams*

The Joker x Reader - “Apart”

When you sent him the invitation to your wedding, you didn’t actually expect The Joker to show up. But here he is and now you have to deal with the situation; you are usually such a good actress, but…this is different. Very different.

“You came,” a smile appears on the corner of your lips as J gets out of the car and the valet takes it away, leaving your ex in front of you with a wide smirk on his face.

“Of course I came, I wouldn’t miss this now, would I?” he opens his arms and you go to give him a quick hug. “Hi, Doll,” he quickly pecks your cheek and you hold him for a few more seconds before breaking the embrace. You didn’t spoke or touch each other in about half a year.  

You take a deep breath, analyzing him and start walking up the stairs towards the mansion while you try to keep the conversation going without getting awkward:

“You still look the same J,” you state the obvious and he snickers, amused.

“I never change; you should know that by now. Would you look at this place,” he struggles to impress himself. “It’s a fortress, took me a while to find it. At least I know my girl is well taken care of, hm?”

“I’m…I’m not your girl anymore,” you whisper, brushing off the weirdness of his statement, but you know he just talks like this all the time anyway.

“Right, thanks for the reminder,” he elbows you, scoffing, and you ignore what he just said and point towards the huge property, excited:

“Let me give you a tour.”

“Where is the groom- to-be? Can’t wait to meet him; he’d better make you happy otherwise he will have to deal with me,” he keeps on yammering and you take his arm, not reacting to the last part of his tirade, guiding him through the maze of the outdoor gardens.

“He is away with business; he will be back in two days for the wedding. You’re the first guest to arrive, the rest are coming tomorrow.”

“You sure hired a lot of people for the event, Pumpkin. I can tell it’s going to be a huge wedding.”

“It will be,” you giggle, watching everybody running around, setting up flowers and the humongous tent where the gathering will happen.

“Wow, I already like it, no expense was spared,” The Joker addresses you, witnessing a few things coming together in a very nice way.

“Miss Y/N,” someone approaches, “do you want more red roses or pink ones?”

“Red,” J answers and it pleases you. “It’s her favorite color.” You also nod a yes and the guy walks away, trying to count how many more to add now. “Who else is coming?” he asks, frowning when a waiter passes you by in a hurry. “ I don’t like the way that man looked at you, want me to take care of it?”

You start laughing, caressing his shoulder.

“Noooo, lets’ not do that, it’s all good.”

It surprises you how much effort you put into trying not to look nervous, you are usually such a good actress, but…this is somewhat different.

“A lot of people will come, you know some of them,” you show him the guest list on a nearby table. “Don’t worry, you’ll seat next to me so you don’t really have to small talk with the others too much. I know you hate that.”

“I sure do,” he grins, kissing your hand and you sigh, continuing to pace alongside him in perfect silence for a few moments.

“Oh, no, it’s starting to rain,” you point out, looking at the gloomy clouds. “Thank goodness the tent is up so it won’t rain inside; they can still continue to decorate, it really needs to be finished by tomorrow night. Let’s go in the mansion, I’ll show you what we got.”

*******************

As soon as he steps in and sees the crystal chandelier he looks in your eyes, puckering his lips:

“Same one we have at the penthouse!”

We had,” you correct him but The Joker didn’t get the fact you were referring to his statement involving the two of you. Or maybe he pretended.

“No, it’s still there, Doll. You always had good taste in decorating so I kept it.”

“That’s nice,” you avert your gaze, feeling your cheeks getting warm.

You walk him around, explaining what’s what, just like a well learned lesson.

“I’ll be damned,” he stops, stunned. “You kept it?!”

The enormous painting you two snatched from Gotham’s art museum two years ago is the centerpiece in the living room. He didn’t want to go because he couldn’t care less about stuff like that but in the end you convinced him to steal it together. You had it at the penthouse until…you left and took it with you. Now it’s here.

“You know how much I love it, Mister J,” you tease him by calling his full name, which you only did when he got in trouble. “I could never get rid of it.”

“I can understand that; I know your mind gets set on something and then you don’t let go,” he mocks, starting to walk upstairs.

*********************

“And, ummm… this is the master bedroom,” you present it, a bit uncomfortable.

“It’s so you, Y/N, I can see it everywhere. Look at the bed, reminds me of the one we have at the penthouse,” he points towards it and you fix his mistake:

We had.”

“No, it’s still there,” he continues and you are still not sure if he really doesn’t get what you’re saying, but you don’t want to insist on the issue. No point really.

“I wonder if…You do have a mirror here too!” he sits on the bed, looking up and sure it’s there. He lies down on the pillows, gesturing you to come by him and you humor him. “Remember ours?”

You scoot over by him, smiling and grab his hand, looking up at the mirror too.

“Yes, fun times. We had our moments, right?” you have to agree, turning your head towards him.

“U-hum,” he replies, taking your fingers to his lips and kissing them, absent minded. You squirm under his touch and have to break the spell J apparently is unaware he still holds upon you.

“Why did you push me away?” you suddenly ask, squeezing his hand tighter.

“I push everybody away, it doesn’t mean that’s my intent,” he replies and for once he sounds sincere.

“Hey, wanna see my wedding dress?” you hurry and get up, heading towards the walk in closet.

“Might as well,” he lifts his shoulders up, resigned. He doesn’t really want to see it but he can’t upset you now that you are finally on speaking terms again. It takes you about 10 minutes to get ready and step outside, anxious for his reaction.

“My God, Princess, you look so beautiful,” he has to admit, jumping from the bed, coming to meet you in the middle of the room. “Turn around,” The Joker suggests and you slowly spin so he can see your gorgeous dress. “I really like the gown, it suits you.”

“Thank you,” you mumble, playing around with the delicate fabric because you feel edgy.

“My Princess always looks beautiful anyway,” he unravels his silver teeth, chuckling.

“I’m…I’m not your Princess anymore J,” you step towards him, fighting with all the feelings inside of you.

“You’ll always be my Princess,” he simply states and then rolls his eyes. “Come on, you’re gonna cry on me? You know I always talk like this,” he makes fun of you, seeing your lips quivering but has to admit something makes him uneasy.

Fuck it all, you think, deciding on the spot and go kiss him which surprises The Joker and in the same time it doesn’t.

I’m not sure if I like diamonds anymore,” you clearly enunciate and he freezes with his hands around your waist.

This is the phrase you two decided to use when you were together as a warning for grave danger, just in case you couldn’t say anything else and you wanted the other to know something is up without getting busted.

“Well, that’s a first, Doll,” he lets you go, understanding someone is listening, carefully looking around as you put your finger on your lips, signaling him to be quiet. You point towards the corners of the room, quickly scribbling on a piece of paper that you stash in his pocket.

“Yes, I am so bored with diamonds these days,” you try to control your voice from breaking and you hug him tight, barely whispering in his ear:
“Run! A left, two rights around the stairs. Don’t take the car, just run!” and you drag him towards the door, peeking outside to make sure nobody is passing by. He has such an intrigued expression on his face and you cover his mouth, shaking your head as a no.

“Ssstttt,” you soundlessly shush him. “Don’t let anybody see you, they’re all undercover! Go!” you whisper one last time before pushing him away and he doesn’t linger anymore but signals you to follow.

You mutter a NO, watching him walk as he turns around one more time to see you in your wedding dress. He takes the corner and he’s gone.

What the hell is going on? The Joker wonders, carefully sneaking around, hiding behind a wall so he can read the piece of paper you placed in his pocket:

“I’m not at Arkham or Belle Reve, not sure where. Warn as many as you can not to come. After you get out, keep left under the trees until you get to the main road. Don’t let them catch you.”

***********************

It was a difficult break up, at least as far as you were concerned. You got sick and tired of everything and left because he didn’t seem to give a damn anyway. You were on your own for about a month when you got ambushed during a heist and couldn’t escape. You were taken to a place you haven’t been before and they were sure thrilled to see they got The Joker’s girlfriend; well, ex, but you didn’t tell them that part; they found out on their own.

You were sentenced to 40 years in prison but offered a deal: if you help the Secret Service catch the elusive Clown Prince of Crime and many others, your verdict will be reduced to only 10 years. It was such a sweet deal and they spared no effort in planning the perfect stakeout: for 3 months they put everything together, using your fake wedding as the bait: they wanted to get as many most wanted criminals as possible with minimum casualties, away from the public eye on that hidden property, rehearsing day and night to make everything seem like the real deal. They knew many would come to the occasion if you invite them. And you agreed, sure hoping J won’t show up. When he did, you didn’t want to care but things didn’t go as planned. You and your stupid feelings for him; you always pay for them no matter what.

***************************

Of course the deal went sour and they retaliated for what you did: your sentence changed to life in prison and you weren’t treated nicely, to say the least. You had days when you regretted your stupid decision, crying yourself to sleep in the dark, cold cell. And some days were better, hoping he might find you and get you out of there. Hours, weeks, months and then two years passed with heartbreaking solitude and doubt, and you finally realized The Joker will never save you.  Even if you helped that day, knowing him he probably hated you with passion after tricking him with that well devised scheme and he is not the one to forgive such transgression. Or maybe he just can’t find the location. You tried to cope but the thought of never getting out of there was slowly driving you insane. How you missed the outside world and the freedom of doing what you please.

And you missed him…You couldn’t get out of your mind that last time he looked at you. You wanted so badly to run with him, but had to stay behind to hold them up, pretending he’s still there for a while to give him enough time to flee…Like he appreciated the sacrifice…Too late now for remorse, yet you can’t hide from yourself.

You slowly chew on your bread, deep in thought, sitting on the mattress, examining your skinny hands. You got so much thinner due to the special menu and treatment you were subjected in the last two years. Fit for a Queen, as they like to laugh at you.

“Oh, great,” you pull out the piece of plastic out of your mouth, unnerved you are always given such disgusting food. This is where you usually stop eating, nauseated at the crap you find in the meals. You glance at it for a second before wanting to toss it on the floor when you notice something.

You have to bring it really close to your eyes since you are not allowed to wear your contacts.  

I’m here. Cover your ears,” you read and gasp, dumbfounded, having a hard time processing what just happened.

The loud explosion to the right wall of your cell throws you to the ground and your ears start ringing .You struggle to get up, covered in dust and debris, stumbling to keep your balance, dizzy from the blast.

You stare at the gap in your wall, seeing so many bodies moving around on the other side, not knowing what to do.

“Would you hurry up, woman?! I don’t have all day!” you hear the familiar voice and J creeps inside your prison, coughing and trying to move the flying ashes out of his way.

You can’t even move and stare at him wearing your favorite suit, starting to cry in a frenzy.

He sighs and comes in front of you, his blue gaze going up and down your body, growling when he realizes how scrawny you are.

“So you didn’t get married, hm?” he bites on his lip and you barely manage to utter, whimpering:

“N-no…” and you continue bawling , rushing in his arms and he hugs you, taking each other in for a few seconds. “You…you look the same,” you cry your eyes out on his shoulder, hoping you are not hallucinating from the meds.

“I never change, you should know that by now,” he purrs in your hair, ecstatic he found you. He’s been looking forever; my God you were well locked away or what?!

“Sir, we need to get out of here, they’re coming!” one of the mercenaries yells and J lifts you up in his arms, carrying you outside. The sun hits you and you hide your face in his chest, wincing in pain.

“My eyes,” you complain, wiping your tears and slowly readjusting to natural light, fastly blinking to make it better. “You can put me down, I think I can walk,” you turn his face towards you so you can see him.

“Queens don’t walk,” he grumbles, kissing your forehead, continuing to carry you.

“I really missed you,” you confess on the verge of crying again. “I thought you will never come.”

“Meh, I was bored staring at that chandelier all day,” he tries to joke and you sense his hands holding you tighter.

You sniffle, smiling for the first time in so many months and ask when he looks down at you:

We still have it?”

We do,” The Joker answers, walking faster as all hell breaks loose behind him.

 Also read: MASTERLIST:

http://diyunho.tumblr.com/post/153664676321/joker-x-reader-masterlist

What Gender Dysphoria Feels Like, For Those Who Don't Experience It

(From my experience only. Not accurate for all trans people.)

-

At its best, it is a dull, mental tingling. You know something is not quite right. You know your own identity, and you notice the annoyances this body brings you, but you carry on.

At its usual, it’s an anxiety producer. You’re more aware of you’re own feminine features, and the things about your body you feel don’t fit you; You’re more aware of your voice, and dislike how it makes others view you. Mornings may see a little heavier, having to wake up and face your own body in the shower, or in the bathroom mirror. Hearing people refer to you as “she” is still an annoyance, but you brush it off. You don’t like looking at yourself, but you can. You’re able to see past the dysphoria and accept yourself.
At mid-day the limits you put on your body start to make you ache. You think maybe you should take your binder off for a bit, but doing so could potentially cause a panic attack. You let yourself be physically uncomfortable, so you can be more mentally comfortable.

At its worst, seeing your own body makes you want to cry. You do nothing but lay in a pile of heavy comforters - fully clothed so you don’t have to feel the curves of your own body. Hearing someone regard you as “she”, or your birth name, fills you with discomfort and unease, sometimes to the point of nausea. You can’t look in the mirror without wanting to cut your own skin off - remake your body into something more tolerable. This frustration towards ones own body may cause the urge for them to self-harm. Even slightly tight fitting, or feminine clothes cause anxiety to the point where you won’t leave your home.

Dysphoria is not simply the wish to be another gender. It is not a trend; it is not a fight against social standards. Gender dysphoria is a psychological battle between who you are on the inside, and how others perceive you on the outside. It can produce anger, anxiety, nausea, depression.
Dysphoria is painful. It isn’t something I’m happy to be going through, but I go through it, regardless.
I hope people get better educated about gender dysphoria, within the next few years, so we - as a society - can actually start treating trans people like people.
- Adrian Loya 🖤

Don’t Listen to Mark

Originally posted by markarism

Request: I love reading your Ethan x reader imagines!!! Can I request one where you’re friends and Ethan likes you and so he starts using really bad pick up lines on you but you think it’s a joke? Thank you!!!!!!!😘

Summary: Fem!Reader has a crush on Ethan and doesn’t quite know what to do when he starts bombarding her with bad pickup lines. Quality memeage ensues.

A/N: Ah I’m not too happy with how this came out, but it’s decent? I don’t know man I might just be tired but his is what I got for ya! Hope you all enjoy my trash™. Perfect gif is perfect. There is a text conversation in this so ‘-’ is Ethan and ‘=‘ is reader. Enjoy!

Wordcount: 896, good length yes(?)

Warnings: so many meme

Request some things! I really enjoy writing for you guys!

Keep reading

Goddess

Request:Hello! So every stinking time I ask about T'Challa people say no so fingers crossed on this one lol. But I was wondering if you could do an ask on T'Challa finding out his significant other is pregnant and him just spoiling her and being all protective and all that because T'Challa is a precious cinnamon roll and I love him.

You were beyond eager to give your husband the news, after months of trying you were finally pregnant. T’Challa was due back any minute from a brief mission with the Avengers. As you waited you paced, full of nervous energy. Despite knowing that the two of you would be alright with a little one it still made you unbelievably nervous. There was a big difference between trying for a baby and having the baby be a reality. Your hand touched your stomach, despite there being no baby bump to gratify your touch, however just the knowledge that there was a group of cells inside of you destined to become a baby made you smile. You were going to be a mother. You find yourself looking at yourself in the mirror, trying to imagine how you’d change, how the expanse of your beautiful brown skin would stretch to accommodate a child.

“Admiring your beauty, love?” T’Challa questioned. You jumped at the sudden sound of his voice. You hadn’t heard him enter. You turned and hurried into his arms. He pulled you into a tight hug.

“I’m so glad you’re home,” you gushed with a grin. T’challa looked down at you fondly, moving a bit of your hair out of the way.

“I am glad to be home,” he admitted and leaned down to kiss you. You accepted the kiss gratefully then just looked up at him. You didn’t know how to bring up the subject. Could you just blurt it out?

“Is something the matter?” he questioned.

You shook your head still smiling, “I’m pregnant,” you blurted, too excited to make any build up. Even without any dramatic suspense he was stunned into silence for a moment, before he seized you in another embrace, this one sweeping you off your feet. He spun you in a circle and kissed you all over your face. You laughed grabbing his face so you could kiss him properly. As he set you back down he was still smiling.

“I love you so much,” he proclaimed.

“I love you too.”

T’Challa always treated you like a queen… and not just because you are. He spoiled you to the max. Not just with material things but with his time and affection. For some reason you had expected that to die down as you grew bigger with your child. You were unbelievably wrong. He pressed his lips to your round belly sending love to you and your baby.

“You are so beautiful,” he grinned at you as you sat in bed. You rolled your eyes at him and looked down at your beach ball belly.

“Yeah, yeah,” you laughed.

“I mean it. Look at you,” he pointed at the body mirror across the room. You got a good look at your profile from there, “you are glowing, you are a goddess.”

“Why are you so damn sweet?” you gushed as you attacked his face with kisses.

“You are the love of my life, bearing my child. I know no other way to honor one I love so much.”

Just like that you were crying, and maybe it was just the crazy pregnancy hormones, but either way he gathered you up in his arms and held you close. You fell asleep in his arms, you woke up in the middle of the night with an extreme hunger for pickles. You carefully got out of bed, being sure not to wake your husband. The kitchen was fully stocked with all of your usual cravings. As you looked in the fridge you also decided to grab some ice cream. You fixed yourself a bowl of ice cream… that quickly turned into a sundae as you added toppings. However you still wanted your pickle. You struggled to open the jar and as you did so you heard T’Challa call your name. He sounded distressed, you could hear running footsteps.

“What? What’s the matter?” you asked suddenly tense as he came to stand in the kitchen with you. He ran a hand over his face and let out a sigh.

“You weren’t in bed, I got worried.”  he said in an exasperated tone.

“I just went to get a snack. This little monster has me ravenous.”

“You should have told me.”

“You were asleep.”

“Wake me up next time.”

“I can make myself a snack. I’ll be okay.”

“Anything could happen! What if you fell? Or what if someone was in the palace?”

“I doubt that would happen, but if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll  wake you up next time I want a snack in the middle of the night.”

“Thank you,” he walked over to you and hugged you. You sighed softly and hugged him back, jar of pickles still in hand. As he let you go, you handed him the jar.

“Open this for me?” you asked.

~Mod Lillian

2

Before You Go ~Jeff Atkins x Reader~

It was stupid. It was a really fucking stupid idea, and she knew it. As soon as Zach opened his mouth it was guaranteed that whatever came out would be an outstandingly bad idea. And it was.

Zach’s family was out of town, so naturally that was cause enough to have a kickback. Without much coaxing from Zach and Montgomery, she agreed to hangout with them and their friends. It wasn’t like her, not really. She didn’t partake in their idiotic endeavors. But it had been a rough week and she wasn’t doing too well. She didn’t want to talk about it. She just wanted to distract herself with bad ideas and bad influences.

“Since when do you hangout with them?” Jeff had questioned, his arms crossed over his chest tightly in a way that made the veins pop out.

“Me and Zach have always been friends, you know that,” She shot back, not wanting to have this conversation.

“Okay but you hate Bryce. You have literally referred to him as ‘everything you despise in this world’. And you’re not overly fond of Montgomery either,” he pinched the bridge of his nose in the way that he always did when he was frustrated and didn’t understand.

“I’m not asking for your permission. You’re not my third parental guardian,” she snapped, her tone a lot harsher than it should have been. He wasn’t being controlling, he wasn’t telling her not to go. He just didn’t understand why she wasn’t acting like herself.

“I know, and I’m not trying to be,” he sighed, his lips were pressed together tightly, “Before you go just tell me why. You’ve been acting different and now you’re hellbent on hanging out with people you don’t even really like that much. You know they’re not gonna get up to some stupid shit.”

“Bye, Jeff,” she walked away. Her voice was flat and her face was expressionless.

“Just be careful, please!” He called after her, but it went in one ear and out the other.

Why do we push away those who care the most and run all too willingly to those who don’t really give a damn? Maybe because when someone cares they make you confront the things weighing you down. Maybe because when someone doesn’t care they’re more than happy to encourage every rash impulse you have. Sometimes we don’t want to talk through our problems. Sometimes we want to drink a fifth of vodka and forget our own names.

The kickback had started out fine enough. All the usual suspects were there and it was chill. But then Montgomery noticed the two new golf carts parked outside. They were shiny and untouched, completely untarnished. That was an invitation, and an ominous one at that. Everything Montgomery touched turned to ruins.

It all sounded like so much fun. Let’s race the golf carts. What could go wrong? The better question would’ve been, what could possibly go right?

It was fun, at first. It was fun until she found herself on the ground, her head aching and everything blurry. The shrieking of metal rang in her ears as everything had come back into focus. They crashed. It wasn’t catastrophic, but there was damage— damage to the carts, damage to them.

Her face felt wet and her right eye felt swollen. She didn’t have to look in a mirror to know there was a gash on her right temple while her right eye was bruising. Suddenly she didn’t want to be there anymore.

Zach had, unsuccessfully, pleaded with her to stay. She wasn’t having it. She shouldn’t have been there in the first place.

So now she stands on Jeff’s front porch with a dish towel pressed against her temple, feet shifting anxiously. Zach had dropped her off since he had been relatively unscathed in the wreck, just a few superficial scrapes. Zach’s a good friend, but he’s a little dumb and very much not Jeff.

The door swings open, causing her to jump back slightly. The light leaking out from the opening causes her eyes to squint as her figure is illuminated, blood splotches and all. Jeff stands in the center of the doorway with a confused expression twisting his features until he registers what he’s looking at. He blinks hard in surprise, his lips parting to say something.

“Before you say anything,” she stops him, “I completely acknowledge that I’m a fucking idiot, and trust me, I hate me more than you do right now.”

“Babe,” he sighs exasperatedly, “ I don’t think you’re an idiot, and I could never hate you. But I am on the verge of a heart attack, so please come inside and tell me what happened.”

She nods in compliance, following him into the house. They walk up the stairs in silence. The house is empty except for them. She regrets every decision she’s made in the past twenty four hours. She gave up a night alone with her boyfriend to get in a golf cart wreck with Liberty High’s most infamous jocks.

They reach the bathroom and she hops up onto the counter, waiting for Jeff to finish collecting whatever it is he thinks will patch her up. She parts her legs for him to stand between as he reaches to take the blood soaked towel out of her grip.

He frowns when he sees the gash on her temple. It’s not too deep, but it still doesn’t paint a pretty picture. The bleeding has stopped but the bruising becomes harsher as time passes. The feeling of cold water being dabbed onto her temple is soothing, or maybe it’s just Jeff’s presence.

“We crashed some golf carts,” she says quietly, looking up at Jeff through wet lashes.

“Is everyone okay?” he asks, reaching for the rubbing alcohol. The cotton pad becomes saturated with the liquid before he brings it to her wound. The second it grazes her skin she lets out a hiss of pain, gripping the edge of the counter.

“Yeah,” she breathes out as the pain subsides, “Everyone is fine.”

“Did it make you feel better?” he inquires as he places a series of butterfly bandaids on her skin to close to gash. His voice is so calm.

“No,” she whispers, “It only made it worse.” She drops her head to rest on Jeff’s shoulder, wrapping her arms around his torso. He envelopes her in his arms, rubbing circles on her back with one hand and stroking her hair with the other.

“Then why’d you do it?” he asks softly.

“I’m so stressed and nothing is going right. I’m so tired,” her voice cracks as she bites back tears.The weight of everything hangs over her. It’s overwhelming and it makes it hard to breathe.

“You’re okay,” he coos, “I’ve got you.”

“I’m sorry, Jeff. I’m so sorry,” she says into his shoulder as a few tears escape.

He pulls back to take her face between his hands, wiping the few stray tears making a trail down her bruised face. “You’re forgiven. Honestly you were forgiven the moment you showed up at my door. Just don’t shut me out, okay? Your problems are my problems and I don’t want you to ever have to go through anything alone.”

“I won’t,” she promises, “I love you.”

“I love you,” he whispers against her lips as he presses his against hers in a soft peck. “I love you,” he echoes as he kisses her nose. “I love you,” he breathes as he kisses her forehead. He repeats it for each part of her face his lips touch.

“I am so lucky to live in a world where you exist,” she smiles serenely.

“Yo soy el afortunado,” he grins backs, “How about I run you a bath?”

“That sounds absolutely perfect. Boyfriend of the year award,” she gushes, kissing his face.

“Yeah well you’ve had a rough week and you could use some relaxation,” he rubs his hands down her arms before turning towards the bath, “also you smell like blood and dirt.”

She rolls her eyes, hopping off the counter whilst removing her clothing.”I’ll forgive you for that jab if you get in the bath with me.”

“Think we can both fit?” he arches an eyebrow.

“We’ll just have to get close,” she grins, tugging the hem of his shirt up to pull it over his head.

***
The warmth of the bath water caresses her skin as she lays with her back pressed against her boyfriend’s chest. Her eyes are shut as she lets the rest of her senses absorb how at peace she is in this moment.

“This is so relaxing,” she sighs, cuddling further against Jeff.

“Mhmm,” he hums in agreement as he dips his head to kiss her cheek, then her neck, then her shoulder. “How does your head feel?”

“Hurts,” she shrugs casually.

“Do you want me to go get you an ice pack?” he offers, concern dripping off the words.

“I don’t want you going anywhere. I’ll grab one before I go,” she assures, tilting her head back to kiss the base of his throat.

“Uh huh, you’re out of your mind if you think I’m letting you walk away from me twice in the same day. With your luck you’ll trip on the way out and break your leg or something,” he laughs as he shakes his head. She can feel his laughter vibrating against her back. It’s a nice feeling.

“You raise a good point,” she mirrors his laugh, “I’ve made enough reckless decisions for the night.”

“Exactly. So just stay with me.”

“I can’t turn that down. Thank you for helping me put myself back together.”

“Always.”

And just like that another truth became apparent. Sometimes we pull away from the people we care about the most. And sometimes we run towards the people who are blatantly bad for us. But in the end we find ourselves at the place that our heart recognizes as home.


Masterlist 

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Closer (Hercules Mulligan x Reader)

Time Period: Modern 

Word Count: 2,952

Warnings: Smut. Language.

A/N: Super cliché teasing/jealousy leads to smut, but there just aren’t enough Hercules Mulligan fics out there dammit. This is the first time I have ever written smut and I’m very nervous aahh. Feedback would be appreciated. 

Tags: @avengershavethetardis @bjwrites

————————————

It had been a long, long day. Work had been difficult, your boss had been a bitch, and all you wanted was to do was curl up on the couch with your boyfriend. 

“Hey babe,” you heard Hercules call as you entered the apartment. “How was work?”

“Uuugghh,” you groaned loudly, kicking your shoes off by the door. You shook your jacket off and hung it up in the closet. 

“That bad?” He had poked his head into the entry way. You said nothing, but nodded your head feebly. “Aww, c’mere.” In two long strides, he crossed the room towards you and captured you in a tight hug. “Sorry to hear.” 

“S’okay,” you mumbled. You hugged him and let out a sigh. “You smell nice,” you muttered, inhaling his cologne. You felt his body shake as he let out a chuckle. 

Hercules pulled back and kissed you lightly on the head. “Do you want to have dinner now or grab something when we get there?” 

You tilted your head. “When we get where?” 

His shoulders dropped. “You forgot.”

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you’ll look good (in between my sheets)

prompt: person A and person B meet at a bar, each nursing a broken heart after a recent breakup. bonus for a selfie and smut. 

word count: 3,654 (*aaron burr voice* sweet jesus)

pairing: daveed diggs x reader

warnings: smut, daveed “i can charm the skirts off a nun” diggs, “okay so we’re doing this” reader. 

a/n: when i die, delete this so daveed never finds this sin. 

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Skin

Trigger Warning: Trigger Warning: Self Hatred, Body Issues
Pairing: reader x Carl
Summary: Reader is feeling insecure about her body since she is curvy, but boyfriend!Carl comes in and lets her know otherwise 

Hope you enjoy, more to come guys!! 

- ramona 


You sat in front of your mirror, eyeing down every inch of your body. You were in a tank top and underwear, you felt tears stream down your face as you grabbed at the tummy that was in front of you. You looked at your legs, you tears hitting the floor below you and dig your nails into your huge thighs out of frustration. 

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The {Soul} Alchemist’s Trap Box 

I’ll preface this by saying two things – 1) I have yet to attempt to create these boxes, and 2) There is a third box – but one I do not intend to share. I do not uphold the Crede, nor fear the wrath of Karma – but the third box would undoubtedly bring down a maelstrom of horror on any who dare use it incorrectly. Hence… why I’m not including it. Tender eyes and what not.


To create these boxes, you will first need a few supplies:

  • (2) Boxes – of equal size would be ideal, but I would not think necessary
  • (1) Divider – as one of the boxes you will be compartmentalizing
  • (3) Separate Colors of Paint (at least) – one of which MUST be black
  • Salt – quite a bit, an entire carton or more, depending on the size of your box
  • Hair and Blood – your own
  • (2-3) Stones – regular, run of the mill stones would be best – larger than a quarter
  • Paintbrushes and whatnot
  • (Optional) Broken Mirror Pieces

Begin, first and foremost by prepping your paint: for which you will need your blood and your hair. Burn the hair and collect the ash, add this to your second color (i.e. not black) – in the photo tutorial, this will be marked in red, You will also need to add your blood to the same paint as your hair. While not necessary, it is strongly recommended that you add the blood. And you’re going to want to add at least a drop or two… or three. Mix thoroughly. While the paint shouldn’t spoil, I would recommend doing this just before the ritual, so everything is still relatively fresh.

Take your first box and paint the interior black – this will act as your Trap Box. It will be the one used as a snare to collect unsavory spirits of many kinds. As for this part, it works just as any trap box would. Lure/command the spirit into the box, wherein it will be trapped, yadda yadaa. You will be using a Trap Sigil in the box – feel free to design your own, for this tutorial, I’ve elected to use this:

Since you’ve painted the inside of the box black (and yes, that is an important step), and added the blood/hair to a second color, use the third (here, white) to paint in your sigil. Shown here is just the flat bottom of the box – if you wanted to use the same symbol, I would make sure to bring the lines up the edges to the mouth – perhaps even continuing them onto the lid.

When the white has been painted and had time to dry, dip your finger into the red paint and mark the center of the sigil. It is now sealed to you.

On top of the box, you will be painting a “lock” sigil, but also using the red as a sort of guide – which I’ll explain later. For this design, the top of the box would feature (the main image above):

(Note: I used a white background, but if I were to make one, I would undoubtedly paint the entire box black – then paint in the sigil with white. Notice, also, that the tridents overlap the hand print. The painting process would go: circles/rings, hand print, trident – for which I have my reasons)

(It would also be at this point that you might affix your broken mirror shards inside the box – making sure not to cover the sigil, but filling in along that inside edges and the inward facing part of the lid would be both interesting to look at and useful for containing the spirit).

For now, this box is complete.


The second box is where things get a little more complicated. As I said, youll need a divider of some sort to section the inner compartment in half. It needs to be sturdy. This is a crucial divide and you would not want any commingling between the compartments! 

Again, I’d suggest painting the inside black, as well as the divider.

This shows the four inner walls of the left compartment. In all honest, it doesn’t matter which side is which – but does matter that the red, hatched circle is on the divider. Feel free to switch sides, just make sure the red is on the divider. For now, disregard the above fingerprint, as this related to the stones, which we’ll discuss later. Do not stamp it. Do, however, paint the above symbols on each “wall,” then fill the compartment with salt.

This, obviously, shows the other half – again, the circle that is not like the rest goes on the divider. Do paint the symbol fixed in the bottom of the box – as well as continue the same symbols (the “starred” circles) onto the inside of the lid, by either doing one on each half or one large one across the entire lid.


At this point, the construction of both boxes is complete. Feel free to decorate the outside of the “Filtration” Box (box #2) however you so desire.


Now this is where things get fun! Take one of your rocks (we’ll be calling this the “Evil” Rock) and stamp the same finger print as you did on the inside of the first box (hence why the fingerprint also appears in the first side of the second box – as this is where it will eventually go!). At this point, you will also want to make a separate (easily repeatable) symbol on the same rock. This symbol will pair it with the “Good” Rock. Of course, now recreate the symbol on the Good Rock.


In essence, what you’re doing is setting up a proverbial circuit. The first box ensnares the spirit – which is then drawn through the coordinating symbol (in this case, your fingerprint) into the first compartment of the corresponding box – the one filled with salt. The circuit continues, of course, with the second symbol on the Evil Rock, which leads through the divider to the Good Rock.


Theoretically, this sort of “filtration” process should cleave the entity into a Dark and Light aspect – (this factors into my beliefs that “evil” does not exist outside of the human perception and is thus a creation of the human psyche – thereby, this process should leech this “evil” from the host spirit and keep it trapped within the first rock, while the “good” – or rather, the purest essence of the spirit is transferred into the “Good” Rock, from whence they should be released.


The same rocks should be usable for quite a few spirits, but as I mentioned, you should free the “purified.”


For information on my personal beliefs in regards to the Trap Box – briefly touching on the Soul and the Spirit and whether or not it (ethically) should be used, see:  (Beliefs Behind the Trap Box) – which basically means read before you try to send me any flack!

If you’re struggling like I am - Ch. 1

Summary: You are hired as a makeup artist for BigHit working with BTS. You are older than all of them, yet, despite your best efforts, you find yourself slowing falling in love with the youngest member.

Pairing: Jungkook X Reader, Jungkook X Noona

Genre: Angst, Fluff and Smut

A/N: Trying to work out the complicated feelings my poor noona heart has about Jungkook. Story begins in March 2014. Title comes from Big Bang’s “If You”.

Chapters:  

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 2021 22 23 24 25 26 27(final)

Chapter 1 - Trouble

It’s your first day of work at BigHit.

Word Count: 1649 (out of 72622)

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Everything to me (Simon Request)

The tweets were endless. Mentions of you not being good enough for him. Tagging you in photos where Simon was without you. Saying he was happier then. Anything you tweeted yourself would get hate. If you even thought about replying to a tweet from your boyfriend, they’d all attack you with their words once again. It was easier to stay clear of all of it. But Simon claimed you shouldn’t have to do that.
Disabling his comments hadn’t helped. It only fuelled their hatred claiming that ‘you had made him do this’. They said that things were so different since you had been with him. And you were scared that now you were beginning to admit it might be true.
You looked at yourself in the mirror and couldn’t see anything good anymore. You hadn’t felt like this in a while. Not since you had Simon. He made you forget about all of your insecurities. But now that had changed. Those comments and those tweets had changed it.
You now saw how your stomach wasn’t completely flat. You didn’t have the shadows of ab muscles forming or a gap between your legs that was somehow aspirational. You had skin on your thighs that was definitely unwanted and you couldn’t fit into the size six like the models could. Your cheeks were chubby from never really losing your baby feature and you couldn’t wear a crop top comfortably in the summer.
Every time your eyes skimmed over your body you seemed to find more and more features that you didn’t like. That you despised.
You hadn’t mentioned anything to your boyfriend. He knew that their words had affected you but not this much. Not so much that you couldn’t even look at yourself in the mirror anymore. To the point where you had considered leaving him just because it would make him happier. You cared about him more than anything and if you were stopping him from being himself, you would be the one to change that. Of course, he had never said to you that you had done anything to make him feel like that but the millions of subscribers had pressured you into believing it.
“(Y/n)?” Simon calls when he evidently walks into the room and you jolt your head towards the bathroom door just to make sure it was closed.
There were tears in your eyes now and he couldn’t see you like this.
“I’m in here” You reply loud enough for him to hear even with a croak in your voice.
“Hey babe” He chirps and you can see the cute smile on his face, “Do you wanna film a video with me and the guys? We’re thinking of starting a new series”
“Umm hang on a second” You quickly respond, tugging down the material of your ‘Sugg Life’ jumper that hung oversized on your body, “What were you thinking of doing?” You ask, closing the door behind you and going to find a pair of jeans or joggers that didn’t necessarily hug your legs as much…
“Like random games or GTA or dead by daylight and stuff but with you in it. Basically just us teaching you how to play” He explains happily, “You in?”
“I don’t know Simon, I’m not feeling too great” You lie, grabbing a pair of joggers and pulling them over your legs.
“Were you sick?” He frowns with evident concern, the smile slipping from his lips.
“No no I just… I’m gonna go lie down for a while” You nod, “I’ll go in the spare room”
“Don’t be silly, you can stay in here” He assures you, “Everyone knows you live here anyway”
“Its okay” You force a smile onto your lips, leaning up to kiss his cheek, “Enjoy filming”
You don’t notice how worried Simon looks as you walk away. You just felt so enclosed that you had to get out.
~~~Simon’s POV~~~
I was concerned now. Something wasn’t right. And as my thumb clicked onto twitter, I could tell why. Her mentions were full of hate. And these were only the ones I had been tagged in. She must’ve seen so much more. Tweet after tweet pushing more and more negative thoughts into her mind. And none of them were true. I loved my viewers but did they really have to be like this? I could only imagine how upset she was. She was sensitive even if she didn’t admit it.
And with this, I couldn’t blame her.
‘Kill yourself you fat bitch’
‘Haven’t seen Simon look so fed up since I started watching him. It’s her’
‘She needs to start using those fat legs of hers and walk out’
‘Who the fuck even thinks Simon likes this girl?’
‘I feel bad for Simon. He must be desperate if he’s with that fat fuck’
The anger bubbled in my stomach until the controller I had been planning on using to use for filming goes flying across the room and crashes against the wall.
“I was gonna ask if you were gonna join the call but that can wait” Josh starts, leaning against the wall of my room, “What’s going on?”
“I need to talk to (y/n)” I sigh, getting up, “Record without me yeah?”
“Sure but, are you sure everything’s okay?”
“No, but I just need to speak to her,” I nod and head outside, going straight to the spare room.
~~~Your POV~~~
You were sat on the bed with your laptop on your legs, replying to some emails from work and generally just catching up on a few things when Simon came in.
“I thought you were filming” You frown.
“Nope” He shrugs, reaching out his hand, “Come here”
“What are you doing?” You question as he lifts you up to stand.
“You’re coming with me beautiful” He mentions simply, leading you out of the room and downstairs.
“Babe what’s wrong with you?” You chuckle slightly as he hands you a pair of shoes and slips on his own.
He leads you silently to the car and you climb inside without protest even if you didn’t feel up to it.
It was dark outside now. The clear sky forming a sheet of stars above the house and the moon reflecting the past light of the sun.
Simons hand doesn’t leave yours as he drives and you keep your eyes focused on his adorable face with his glasses perched on his nose. They were right. You didn’t deserve him.
He soon parks up and you notice he’s taken you to the top of a cliff where the pair of you had gone after a date before. It was the place of your first kiss.
“Why are we here?” You frown and he sits down on a large rock with you beside him.
“So I saw those tweets” He starts, fingers absentmindedly playing with yours.
“Si-” You start
“And I know they would’ve upset you” He comments with all too much truth, “And I don’t know where to start (y/n)”
“You don’t have to” You shake your head, feeling guilty now.
“They mean nothing babe” He states simply, “I don’t give a fuck about 140 characters on a tweet. I don’t give a fuck about your mentions. I don’t give a fuck if they say it every single day. I only care about it affecting you. Because it shouldn’t”
“Its endless Simon. Every single thing I do they seem to have something against” You look down, “I’m starting to think they’re telling the truth”
“Bullshit” He states simply, “They could say a thousand things and it wouldn’t matter. They could say a million times that you’re not good enough or whatever and I still wouldn’t care”
“Look at me Simon” You exclaim, “There’s Sarah and Freya and Katie and Kay and Emily and then there’s me. I’m not beautiful like them, I can’t take a selfie that I look good in. Hell, I don’t even take photos on my own. I don’t look good in tight clothes, I always just wear sweats. Im nothing compared to them”
“(Y/n), do you remember when we first met? Because I do. 3 years ago. You were at the restaurant and you served us. I remember you said something about JJ and it made all of us laugh. And we spent the night chatting to you because by the time we left, it was hours after you should’ve closed. And I remember every time you walked away I realised more and more how beautiful you were. You liked sport even if you did prefer rugby and you liked video games especially gta and you had this fascinating life outside of that small restaurant that I was mesmerised by the more and more you spoke. You were stunning in your simplicity. You didn’t need makeup or perfectly done hair. You were you and to me, that was everything. And that’s not going to change”
You have tears in your eyes now. Simon was never one to speak like that.
“Think of it this way” He nods, squeezing your hand, “I fell in love with you and that’s what should matter, don’t let my viewers stop you from remembering that”
“Thank you” You mutter, the tears threatening to slip from your eyes as they built up more and more.
“Don’t cry babygirl” He whispers, the pad of his thumb wiping under your eyes quickly, “We all have these days. Yours just aren’t necessary” He chuckles and you smile.
“We should probably get back. You have filming to do right?” You sigh, knowing moments like these never lasted long.
“YouTube can wait”

ESSENCE

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Language, making out

Summary: You? an average civilian pretty content with your average life. Him? A super soldier who must keep you away from Hydra’s tentacles with the only rule that you can’t never know about his existence, neither his team. But why is a world knowed evil organization after you? Would he break the only rule when your life gets threatened by a not-Hydra related danger?

A/N: I don’t know how much chapters this series will have, but I clearly know how where want it to go :)

Tags: @fashun–deevah  @ifoundlove-x0vanessa0x @marvel-fanfiction @melconnor2007  @blueskies-love @-tulipsunflower-  @elisa-ramirez14  @the-girl-without-a-face @netflixa @ alyssiamking  @fashun–deevah @laughandwrite  @wordacadabra  (if someone wants to be tagged or untagged please let me know) 


One gun

TWO GUNS

- I can’t believe you are throwing this shit to me, Steve… 

A sharp pain runs through your head when you try to open your eyes.

- No, no, pal, listen to me, what the fuck was I supposed to do? You would have done the same! 

Still dizzy you raise your arm to check that your head is still your head and not some kind of concrete mixer, by how it hurts, it could have been. Blinking fast you open your eyes grateful that in the room there’s not so much light to hurt your retines.

Wait… room??

Gasping you stand on your elbows eyes wide open. Besides you, the source of the voice, who’s talking by phone as you can see, jerks alarmed for your sudden movement. You stare at him mouth hanging open and he does the same at you. 

Holy shit! He is easily the most handsome man you have ever seen. But what is he doing next to you? And, by the way, where are you?!

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Ignis x Self-Conscious Reader

Just a little something that crossed my mind. Always remember to love yourself!  Please enjoy <3


- Ignis doesn’t like when you put yourself down, mainly because he hates seeing you sad. “I’ll do anything to help you see what I see”

- He comforts you in any way he can, mostly with endless hugs and kisses. “You’re” perfect…y/n” he’d whisper into your ear.

- He sometimes peppers your face, arms, legs, stomach, and any place he can with his lips to prove his affection for you.

 - He makes it a priority to remind you daily how much he adores every inch of you.

-  He believes that the things you see as “Flaws” makes you special.

-  He uses himself as an example to point out his own “flaws” only for you to retort. “But I’m already convinced you’re a god, Iggy” He’d chuckle “Every god needs his goddess, and I believe I’ve already found mine” He’d place a gentle kiss on your hand.

- He sometimes stands with you in the mirror and points to all the things he likes about you.

- Your reactions to his compliments are literally his favorite. “Never stop smiling, kitten”

- He sometimes keeps the light on during those intimate times because he loves to admire all of you “Don’t look!” Ignis would reach up to move your hands from your body. “What if I want to, dear?” He’d smile.

- Over time, he has helped you see how beautiful you are, inside and out and to  walk with your head held high.

“You are simply breath taking my darling and you’re mine. Never forget that

When an olicity&stemily blogs comes onto my page and tells me I’m a “stupid, dumb, idiot”, who is “pathetic” and “needs to stop stalking”, I apparently have a “fetish for older men”, and have an “obsession” - therefore I need to “get a life”.

Originally posted by desingyouruniverse