shift station

Video game companies will make games about getting epic wins but won’t make me a game where I can work a shift at the gas station on a rainy summer night

Day One Hundred and Thirty-Four

-While clocking in, I heard my coworker mention “busting a move in the bathroom.” My legal team has advised me to disclose that this is an entirely unrelated fact, but I have finally found the title for my upcoming debut ska EP.

-A child was rolled away after his mother’s purchase, and not a moment too soon. The forty-something woman behind them had some constructive-adjacent criticism for him and began to aggressively mock his inability to tell apart characters from Thomas the Tank Engine. I aspire to be like this woman, such a strong authority on a subject as to shamelessly school a toddler for such an elementary mistake.

-Today, I am confronting an entity I despise nearly as fervently as the Minions. At the start of my shift, I found myself stationed next to a Boss Baby display of unsettling proportions. I came to terms with this at 11:33, a fact I took note of, as I began a timer to see how long I could go before punting the arrogant entrepreneur all the way to electronics.

-A full roll of stickers was delivered to my lane. I am glad my brand is known enough that my coworkers know what to do when faced with fresh stickers. However, not to look a gift-manager in the mouth, I do wish I had options other than Christmas designs in July.

-A sweet grandmother was very excited about her purchase: a cozy onesie of a bear for her grandson. She raved about how cute it was, and how it even had a small top hat. I am very pleased for her, but I am unsure whether or not it is my place to break the news that she is dressing the boy up as a grizzly demonic animatronic from a franchise decidedly not meant to be marketed this heavily to grade-schoolers.

-It is no secret that I take great joy in riding our motorized shopping carts. Today I have been blessed with enough opportunity to hone my craft into a true art. I organized the cart return area without once dismounting my trusty steed and even took to the untamed wilderness of the parking lot to retrieve an abandoned one. All of the smooth maneuvers I have nailed today are proof that I would make a perfect getaway driver, and I am just one killer track away from being the Baby of shopping center heists.

Derek Hale first saw Stiles Stilinski on February 15th. They were both standing at the now discounted candy display at Target, Stiles grabbing all the heart shaped Reece’s and Derek the candy hearts (they don’t taste like plastic, shut up Laura).

He was mesmerized by the other man, from his disheveled hair to his hands, Derek was entranced. Even the way Stiles moved had a certain odd grace and charm to it, or it did until Stiles tripped into the shelf. 

Boxes upon boxes of candy had rained down and Stiles had laughed, head thrown back as he did before he said, “Typical. St. Valentine is really out to get me.”

The laugh had sounded like music to Derek’s ears, but it also reminded him that he was openly staring at the man on the floor. He had offered his hand to help him up, which Stiles accepted and then introduced himself. The skin on skin contact was electric, Derek hadn’t let go once Stiles was standing, but then again neither had Stiles.

It has escalated from there, they ended up getting coffee at the local shop down the road, and then they ended up back at Stiles apartment where they spent several eventful hours in Stiles bedroom. 

Derek hadn’t expected Stiles’ number, he hadn’t expected Stiles to want to see him again, so he was pleased when Stiles had taken Derek’s phone and put his number in before calling himself so he’d have Derek’s too. 

When Derek had left the next morning he hadn’t expected Stiles to call for at least a few days, so when his phone rang before he was even home, he figured he had left something behind. When Stiles asked him to lunch Derek realized that nothing about Stiles was what he usually expected in other people. 

The entire next year of Derek’s life felt like the best kind of whirlwind. Stiles was everything he didn’t know he wanted in a partner. He was funny and smart, he was an asshole and incredibly honest, he was a hot cup of coffee in the morning and cold pizza for dinner. Derek loved it, Derek loved him.

They skipped the whole Valentine’s celebration the following year, neither of them were really big fans of the day. Stiles ended up picking up a shift at the station and Derek babysat for Laura so she and Mike could have a night out. 

The next day Stiles and Derek ended up at the same Target to get discounted candy, except this time when Stiles ended up on the ground it was because he was on one knee proposing to Derek and not because he tripped over his own feet. 

It wasn’t a typical proposal, but then again, they weren’t a typical couple. They were so much more. 

radio rebel | pt.1

Hey, I just would like to request this song to someone who means a lot to me. I love you very much and I hope you know who you are just by listening to this song.

➤ pairing: jungkook x reader ; radiohost!au, DJ!au, college!au
➤ words: 4.1k words
➤ genre: neutral angst, potential fluff in future chapters
➤ summary: jungkook finds himself torn between falling in love with the anonymous radio host of the local radio station and the quiet girl from his english class. because truthfully, they both seem so similar and its bothering him the hell out.
➤ a/n: i’m back,,,,,,,,,,,,,from,,,,,,the dead,,,,, BUT HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY TO MY SWEET ROASTED POTATO @wastednotions i cannot believe how late i am to give this to you as your birthday gift but you can roast me for my horrible writing in school another time. just appreciate the fact i did this on impulse because u like badboy!jungkook ;). also i’m so sorry for being inactive but i just have been so burdened by work but all is good now:)) hope you enjoy this series which is inspired by the Disney movie Radio Rebel ;))))

“Hey, hey! Its your Radio Rebel in the house! I’m back in the studio and I’m feeling the 80s vibes today, don’t you think so?” Your voice crackles into a light laughter that rips through the still air of the mini studio of the radio station. “Well, lets break down today’s lazy evening with some Bon Jovi kiddos!”

A summery smile graced your lips as you took off your headset, the intense tune of Livin’ on a Prayer playing with passionately throughout the studio, a heavenly wild and energetic atmosphere enlivening the small room. You leaned back against your chair, taking a sip from your mug and you could feel the scalding of bittersweet Americano running down your throat but you down it anyway. Anything to get yourself through this graveyard shift at the radio station.

It was like any other shift that you managed, fulfilling your hours at the local radio station to whip up some cash for college. It was a completely different aura here as compared to the outside. A place where you could be you, where you could talk to people without surrounding yourself to humiliation. There was nothing more than enjoying the enigma of being behind the microphone, walls holding your up and concealing your identity form all the curious minds of who the voice of who this Radio Rebel is. And you would gladly keep it that way.

God forbid your identity as a radio host for the Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday evening is discerned to the entire public.

Keep reading

inell  asked:

Muffled, from the other side of the door - Stiles/Derek

I changed door to window, oops.

“Stiles, you’re 17 years old. You can’t possibly know what love is, let alone be in love!” The sheriff is yelling down stairs. If Derek knew what was happening in the house he wouldn’t have snuck in through the window. He guesses Stiles finally told his dad about them. 


“You have no idea what I can and can’t know!” Stiles yells back. Whatever transpired between the Stilinski men in the last few minutes obviously hasn’t gone as well as Derek hoped it would. He was kind of hoping that John would be a little man, but ultimately accept them, and invite him over for dinner. 

“You’re 17! He’s 25!” John yells again, Derek scents the air and smells whiskey in the distant. “I can have him arrested for statutory rape!” There is a bit of a scuffle like Stiles is trying to wrestle the phone away from his dad. 

“Don’t!” Feet pound up the stairs and in seconds Stiles is at the door. Derek moves to the window, knowing he isn’t welcome. 

“Mieczyslaw!” John is right behind him. 

“Dad stop!” Derek can smell tears and he knows their Stiles’. He slips out the window and shuts it, but stay on the roof. Stiles’ room fills with light from the hallway. “You don’t know what I have been through the last 3 years. Derek has been there for me. Just because you know about all the shit that goes bump in the night doesn’t mean what he’s done for me, and what I’ve done for him goes away.”

John says something else, but he’s still out in the hallway, and it’s hard to hear. 

“Just go away. I’m done talking to you dad.” Stiles slams the door and the light that came in from the hallway is gone. The springs from the bed squeal as Stiles falls onto the mattress. The same mattress that a couple days ago the shared while the sheriff pulled a double shift at the station. 

Soft sobs come through the air, and Derek really wants to go in, but he also feels like he really shouldn’t. Whatever this is, it’s between Stiles and his dad. 

Derek hears a soft, “fuck,” and his heart breaks a little bit. A knock comes from the door and a blur of light comes into the room. 

“Kiddo,” John’s voice pipes up. Stiles doesn’t say anything back. The light goes away, but now there are two heartbeats in the room. 

“I love him dad,” it muffled, and so soft Derek almost misses him. 

Hearing it, is something Derek didn’t expect. The three words he’s been wanting to say for a while now but he never knew if Stiles felt the same way. Things are still kind of new, he didn’t want to say something too soon and ruin whatever this, whatever they, could be. 

“I’m not happy about this kiddo. But if you love him, the least I can do is invite the guy over for dinner.” The springs squeak as John sits on the mattress too. 

Derek feels weird listening to anymore, so he jumps off the roof and makes his way home. The words Stiles saying swirling around in his head. When he gets home, he gathers enough courage to text Stiles. 

He says: “Goodnight Stiles. I love you.” And waits for a response. 

It comes nearly an hour later and it says: “Goodnight Der, love you too”

Derek falls asleep easily that night, knowing Stiles loves him, and he loves Stiles. 

Stitch up My Heart

Pairing - Parrish x Reader, Derek x Reader

Word Count- 1758

Request - Can u do an imagine with Where y/n and Derek had been best friends since they were little and when he leaves beacon hills she’s devestated and ends up dating Parrish and u can decide what to do from there. Thanks.

Originally posted by did-you-say-george-harrison

You and Derek were the best of best friends, you met back in the playground when neither of you were older than four. You had been pushed off the swing and into the concrete, you were close to tears when Derek came over and defended you and flashed his eyes at the mean kids, the two of you had been completely inseparable since then and you had loved him from the third grade.

Of course he was unaware of this, you always too scared to tell him, scared of his reaction, scared of rejection.

You had finally managed to work up the courage to do so before he and the pack headed to Mexico to save Scott and Kira, a trip you weren’t aloud to attend ‘for your own safety’ they had said.

Derek never came home. He went off to god knows where with Braeden, after you had finally told him how you felt.

You cried for days, he had left you so easily, had your friendship not meant anything to him? Because it sure as hell meant a whole lot to you.

“What wrong with me” you whispered to yourself as you sat on your couch, your tears were all cried out from the past few days, you had just sat, staring at the walls emotionlessly.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a loud and fast knock on your apartment door, again and again. “I’m coming, I’m coming” you yelled, tugging your blanket around you and shuffling to the door.

“Parrish got himself into a little trouble” Scott groaned, the weight of the rather beat up looking deputy proving a little to heavy for him to carry on his own, despite Stiles 'helping’.

Your apartment had become a usual place for them to come when someone needed fixed up, you worked mostly in the hospital but often helped Deaton in the animal clinic.

They had gotten used to going there with Derek and you fixing them up until they healed so it was natural instinct for them to head there when they needed you.

“Come in, come in” you ushered, taking Parrish’s arm from Stiles and wrapping it around your shoulder, helping Scott get him to the kitchen, “Stiles, clear the table and get me the First aid kit” you ordered. Stiles did as told, you and Scott laid Parrish on the table.

“Okay boys, he’ll heal but I’ll stitch him up, it’ll speed up the process, I think I have so leftover pizza, take that and eat it in the living room, I need to concentrate” you told them, they complied and took the pizza away.

“Tangled with The beast, huh” you mumbled, grabbing a sterilised needle from the box. “Hey, Jordan, can you hear me” you cooed , softly tapping his cheek. He groaned “uh huh”, you sighed softly in response, beginning to clean up his wounds.

“This might hurt” you whispered, more to yourself than to him as you cleaned his cuts, once you finished that, you wrapped them in gauze and put a gauze pad over a wound on his stomach.

With the help of the boys, you managed to move him into your bed, after you insisted Parrish would have your bed so he could heal and you would crash on the couch.

Half way through your uncomfortable sleep, you felt yourself be lifted from the bed and into a pair of arms. “Jordan” you mumbled, confusion laced in your voice. “You should be resting and healing” you insisted groggily, to which he answered with a smile. “I’m all healed and in your own home you should have not have to sleep on the sofa” he replied softly as he opened the bedroom door, placing you gently into it.

“But what if I like the couch” you mumbled into the pillows he just lay you on as you turned around, watching him pull on his tattered t-shirt. “Hey no! You need to heal properly, I can see you wincing and if I were to take off that pad then I would see the same cut” you scolded, you voice slightly muffled by the bed he had dropped you onto. “I will not take your bed in your own house Y/n, no way” he  said, shaking his head.

“Fine, we can share”

And that was the start of something beautiful.

Something so beautiful you didn’t even know you could have it. Something so amazing that you felt you didn’t even deserve it. After having your heart so broken by Derek, you didn’t really know how your love life was going to pan out, but when you and Parrish spent the night together, talking over the movies and falling asleep in his arms.

“Jordan” you squeaked as he spun you around, kissing your lips softly when he put you down. “I brought you dinner” you said with a large smile on your face, holding up the bag with the takeaway food in it. “Smell’s amazing babe, come on, let’s eat together” he smiled, grabbing your hand and going through to him office.

“So when I was babysitting for a family friend today, her little boy said he’s in love with me and that he wants to marry me, their other kid, sister is planning the wedding already, how do you feel about that” you joked, putting your paper plate and plastic fork in the little bin in Jordan’s office, taking his too. “Well, I’m not surprised, but he can’t do this” he smirked, leaning forward and catching your lips in yet another sensational kiss, just like every other kiss. His soft lips moving perfectly in sync with yours, his hand reaching over to cup your cheek.

“Now eat your cupcake Jordan, we baked them today and I promised them I’d give one to my officer boyfriend” you giggled, tucking into your own cupcake.

“You have icing on your cheek” Jordan chuckled, his eyes crinkling as they always do when he laughs. You began trying to wipe it, failing to find the pink buttercream that your boyfriend has pointing out. “Here, I’ll get it” he said softly, wiping over you cheeks with his thumb, then sucking the icing off his thumb. You giggled and he jumped to his own defence. “It’s good icing” he shrugged, admiration shining in his bright green eyes as he looked lovingly at you, you didn’t often get to do this, your busy shifts at the hospital mixed with Jordan’s crazy shifts here at the station didn’t give you too much time together, though it did make you appreciate the time you did spend together.

He leaned over once again, just about to join his lips to your when someone opened his door.

You both jumped apart, not because your relationship was secret or anything like that, but because it had been unexpected. Thursday night’s were never busy.

“We have a visitor, he wants to see Y/n” Deputy Clark said,  an awkward smile on her face. “I’ll be right out, Sorry Clark” you said, your cheeks burning red as you followed her out. “Call if you need me” Parrish called after you, rolling over to his desk on his chair, a cheeky smile on his lips as he got back to paperwork.

“He's a good one” Clark laughed, your cheeks flushing even more. “Yeah, I’m a lucky girl” you said, closing the door reading ’ JORDAN PARRISH’, hearing him shout, “NOT AS LUCKY AS ME”

“Who’s my visitor” you asked, no one had ever come to the station and request you, considering you didn’t work there. “A guy, he didn’t tell me his name, just said he was looking for you” she shrugged, opening the door that led out to the front desk.

He was facing away but you knew full well who it was.

You had spent almost a year getting over him and now he had just waltzed back.

He turned around and had the audacity to smile at you. Now, if he had done this before you had met Jordan, you would’ve ran to him and forgiven him.

But he was here now standing infront of you, his smile faltering as you glared at him, you loved Jordan more than you had ever loved Derek. Jordan loved you back ,Derek left you all alone.

 "Y/n, I’m so happy to see you" he beamed. “The feelings not mutual” you grumbled, trying to keep your tears at bay. “Wha…Why” he asked, his eyebrows furrowing as he looked at you in confusion, having thought you would’ve been happy to see him.

“You left me Derek, you didn’t even bother to text, I loved you!” you raised your voice, tears dripping down your cheeks. “Loved?” Derek pressed, trying to get you to expand on the reason you used past tense. “Yeah Derek. Loved, not love. I’ve moved on. Moved on to someone who would never leave me, who lets me know just how loved I am"  you said, standing tall and strong.

Derek was too stunned to go any further, so he turned on his heal and protected his pride by walking off.

It really did kill him to see you laugh at Parrish’s lame jokes, watching Jordan kiss the ice cream off your nose and tuck your hair behind your ear, being all lovey like couples are.

"I didn’t know how else to do this but I knew I had to do it now.” Jordan said one day, holding your hands in his larger ones. “I, in now way, am trying to say that you do but I just wanted to know, if you have any feelings at all left for Derek, because if you do, I don’t want to hold you back, I love you and all I want is for you to be happy.” he asked you softly, running his thumbs over the top of your hands.

“No feelings J, none at all, they left the moment we kissed, I love you more than anything in the world” you told him, kissing his lips in a sensational kiss, as most of your kisses were. “Phew! I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you” he admitted, pulling you into his arms for a tight hug. “Neither!” you exclaimed. “Plus, who’d protect me from weird parascientists and massive beasts on a killing spree” you added, watching him playfully roll his eyes at you. “God I love you”  

Derek left your heart broken and that night, after you stitched up Jordan Parrish’s wounds, he began to stitch up your heart.

Concept: I am gainfully employed, and every day ride my bike to work even though my job is an evening shift at a gas station in the middle of Iowa thanks to my knowledge of the secret roads. I watch the sunset and read my book in between serving customers. A significant number of them give off a vague aura of being Not Quite Human. I have nothing to fear from the Thistle Men, for the corn protects me

anonymous asked:

Modern Glasgow prompt please: In the books, Claire briefly mentions a time where the emergency department got robbed at gun point for meds. How would she react to this and what would Jamie do when he found out?

Modern Glasgow AU

“Dr. Fraser – ”

“I *said* I’m fine, Constable. Perfectly fine.”

“Beg pardon, ma’am – I’m no’ doctor, but yer hands are shaking.”

Claire swallowed, lay her – trembling – hands flat on the table in the break room, and breathed deeply.

Turning inward, is what she always called it – taking stock from head to toe, checking for soul-deep wounds and bruises when physical trauma had (praise God) not occurred.

Heart racing – breath shallow. Both normal symptoms post-trauma, considering she had been *right there* when the crazed man had stormed into the A&E, wielding a meat cleaver.

Palms cold and clammy – not bad, considering the circumstances.

Scrubs sticky with blood, from where she had knelt to apply pressure on the wounds.

But most importantly – the baby slept within her. Just over five months gone, she was just barely showing – and she (and Jamie) were attuned to every movement of this little one.

Christ, Jamie. He had to know by now –

“I’ll be fine.” Infusing her voice with bravery she didn’t believe – just wanting to get out of here, out of this room, out of these clothes. “It’s just shock – I’m going into shock. I should know.”

The Constable raised one dark, skeptical eyebrow.

“Ye were right there when Mr. Hodgepile allegedly came into the waiting room – ”

“Allegedly, my arse. I saw him right before my eyes come in, raving about God knows what, demanding the prescription medications we keep at the nurse’s station.”

He shifted a bit in his seat. “And I understand ye were standing right beside the victims.”

Claire closed her eyes. Her left hand drifted to settle on her belly, thumb tracing her wedding ring. Craving Jamie.

“I was asking Nurse Ellesmere to adjust the dosage of pain medication for an elderly patient. The – the man just started hacking at her when she refused to hand it over.”

She swallowed – seeing so much blood.

“Ye ken she’ll be all right – ”

“Of *course* she will – I cared for her, after all.”


Her eyes still closed, Claire enjoyed the simple peace of the small room. The scrape of the constable’s pencil in his notepad. The scent of that disgusting industrial-grade cleanser used to sanitize the floors. The murmur – like bees in a hive – of voices and footsteps and distant ringing of telephones down the hallway.

Familiar, comforting sounds. But not the sounds of home – the shrieks of her two girls, the deep rumble of Jamie’s laughter, the gentle hum of the ancient refrigerator in their kitchen.

“Dr. Fraser?”

Claire opened her eyes – focusing on the young, eager man on the other side of the table.

“I think I’ve got all I’ll need for now – though I may ring you up later, once we’ve completed more of our investigation.”

“I know you have a job to do, but trust me – he’s guilty as sin. And stupid as fuck, since he picked a hospital to attack. The poor bastard is probably getting better medical care right now than at any other point of his life.”

The Constable rose and extended a hand. Claire took it, shook it firmly, and stepped out into the hallway.

The chaos had died down, to be sure – but uniformed police officers still stood at the nurse’s station, photographing the pools of blood and discarded cloths Claire had used to stanch the bleeding.

Clearly her colleagues had already gone home – she recognized nobody in the waiting area, save for a few hospital administrators. And then looked up beyond the cordon –

The most beautiful sight she had seen all day.

Jamie’s hair was all mussed. Even from here she could see the tendons straining on his neck – feel his soul calling out to hers.

Somehow she ducked under the cordon and within two heartbeats was crushed to Jamie’s chest.

His throat rumbled with the *Gaidhlig* - first sweet, sweet words of endearment. Then –

She pulled back, brows creased. “What?”

His blue eyes darkened. “I *said,* what in hell were ye thinking? How dare ye do something harebrained like try to fight off a knife-wielding bandit? And you with child, too! Have ye no sense at all?”

“Let go!” she hissed, fighting against him. “What do you mean, how dare *I* do something harebrained? I took an oath to do not harm, to heal others – and what right do *you* have to tell me what to do?”

Still he held her close, refusing to release her arms. “What right do *I* have, ye ask? I lay claim to the child in yer belly – and to our other two wee bairns, unless ye’ve forgotten? They need a mother, and I need a wife, much more than this world needs you as a hero!”

His grip was iron on her arms and shoulders. “Let go of me! I have a fucking MD degree! I’m not an idiot, I assessed the situation and acted rationally – ”

“I dinna doubt ye did,” he hissed. “But ye canna blame me for panicking when I’m giving the girls their wee bath and I get an emergency text on my phone, so I roll them up in a towel and race over to Murtagh and throw them through his door and then race over here, not knowing what in hell is going on and worrying ye are alive or deid, and then waiting behind the cordon and hearing the doctors say ye had saved the lives of three people and – ”

Suddenly exhausted, he slumped against the wall in the corridor. Eyes closed.

His hold on her relaxed – but now it was her turn to hold him. Cradle him to her, like she had with their daughters – like she would with this new baby. His hands skimmed up her sides – one resting on the baby, the other on her shoulder.

“It’s all right. It’s done. All is well. *We* are well.”

“I love ye, Claire,” he rasped against her cheek. “I’m glad ye’re no’ harmed. But dinna do that again, aye?”

She pulled his forehead to rest against hers. Now both his hands spanned her belly – sheltering, cradling their bairn.

“He is all right?”

Finally, finally she smiled. “You’re still so certain it’s a boy?”

“I am. After two girls, why not?”

He nuzzled against her cheek. “I hope he grows to be a braw laddie. As stubborn and smart and brave as his Mam.”

She dipped closer for a quick kiss. “Flatterer.”

Now it was his turn to smile. “Let’s go home? I’ll call Murtagh, ask him to keep the girls till the morning.”

She sighed against him, so happy. “Yes – as much as I love them, I *need* you.”

He kissed her forehead, and took her hand, and they walked out toward the car park, blinking at the flash of police lights, happy to be alive.  

Dean/Cas: With A Heart On Fire

For tattooedbrothers, who commissioned firefighter!Cas. (info here)

Dean needs a last-minute speaker for Career Day. Charlie suggests he ask the handsome fireman across the hall. 2K.

“How about Sam or Jess?” Charlie asks, voice sounding tinny on speaker.

Dean sighs as he returns to chopping onions for his pasta. “Already asked,” he replies, slipping on glasses to keep his eyes from watering. “He’s at a conference in New York and Jess has an interview she can’t push back.”

“Too bad,” Charlie clicks her tongue. “Could’ve told your kids that they’re Matt Murdock and Lois Lane.”

Dean huffs. “C’mon, Charlie, I need you to brainstorm here. Who else?”

“Maybe Benny? He’s a baker, ergo awesome by default.”

“True, but he’s already signed up,” Dean says. “His daughter Sofie’s in my class and I’m officially out of options.”

There’s a brief pause then Charlie speaks again, conspiratorial. “Well, you do have one other option,” she says. She can’t see him but Dean gives her a pained look nonetheless. “No, Bradbury. Don’t even try,” he warns.

“You don’t even know what I was gonna say!” she protests, only Dean does know and there is no way he’d ever agree. “Dean, come on,” Charlie whines. He can imagine her rolling her eyes. “How long are you- It’s been almost a year, dude,” she sighs, “and he’s dreamy in case you haven’t noticed that either.”

“I’ve… noticed,” he answers softly, resigned. “I just… Charlie, he’s right across the hall from us. We always run into each other and it’ll be mortifying once he rejects me.” He cringes at the thought alone and moves to set the knife down with a bit more force than strictly necessary.

“Why do you assume he’s going to reject you?” she asks. They’ve had this conversation but he hates it every time.

“You’ve seen him too,” is all he says, along with an excuse about finishing dinner, but by the time he’s hung up the phone, he’s lost interest in cooking his food. He shuts off the stove and takes the trash out instead.

It’s on his way back that Dean notices the package by the door, tucked against his neighbor’s wall and wrapped profusely in hot pink duct tape. He wonders who could have sent it - a friend, probably, or maybe a girlfriend. He frowns.

Still, he ought to let the guy know that the box is there. It’s simple, neighborly duty - the reason Dean finds himself ringing the doorbell to 3B - and he’s halfway to regretting those choices when the door swings open and - “Dean?” - Cas squints at him over the threshold.

“Um, hi… Cas,” Dean greets helplessly, because Cas is standing there bare-chested, barefoot, just bare everything save for a pair of black sweatpants. “I… I, uh… Sorry, w-were you asleep?”

Keep reading

The old gods are dead

Achilles haunts local bars, boasting and drinking too much, waiting for a slight so he can throw a punch and feel his mortality in the returning blow.

Patroclus follows silently, he will step in if the fight goes too far. Men have no honor now, and guns are easily concealed. He longs for rest, for peace, for an end to this inevitable war his love fights against himself.

Persephone operates a tattoo shop in a tourist trap. Every year the town sleeps through winter and she disappears, perhaps swallowed by the earth once more. She returns when the snow melts, and etches beauty onto peoples’ skins. She has never seen snow, and so only inks flowers.

Narcissus sells potions in the mall, promising popularity and beauty and diamond-bright skin with a single jar. He catches his own reflection and is useless for half an hour. His manager sighs, and flips over the Help Wanted sign.

Hercules follows riots, taking up the mantle of each new cause. He believes in none of them, but they allow him the carnage and theft he craves, and promises some sort of glory.

Megara cowers at home with her children, dreading the day when the violence in the street enters their home. Her eyes are often blackened, bruises ringing her neck and wrists. At least he doesn’t hurt the children, she thinks. Not yet.

Odysseus fancies himself a traveller. He roams the earth, trying to find the girl he lost track of seven or eight countries back. He knows she’ll wait for him, with their son, even when he is less than faithful. It is his right, as he cannot find her. He’ll get home eventually.

Icarus spends hours in the public library, looking at book after book after book. They promise an entire world beyond the county line, a world that will see him and all his ambitions. He only leaves when his shift at the gas station beckons.

Theseus leaves his mother’s home to find his father, remarried to a witch with little care for him. He strikes out again, to claw his way up in the world. This, he thinks, will make father proud.

Perseus owns a truck stop with his wife, and sooner or later everyone passes through. He feeds them, hears their tales of woe, and sends them on their way with a bit of pie and some fresh coffee. Everyone has their own story, he cannot interfere.

The gods are dead, but the heroes live on.
—  WR (heavily inspired by this)

anonymous asked:

so i'm working the graveyard shift at this gas station by the GCPD, when in comes the joker, with some of his thugs, blasting "don't stop me now" on a boombox of all things. they emptied the slurpee machine and took all the snacks. glad i'm alive, just wish i hadn't been paid... with monopoly money. #OnlyInGotham #IWasScaredShitless #HesGotGoodTasteTho #AlsoToldMeToKeepTheChange😩

Nolan Holloway~ Projects

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Word Count: 1267

Warnings: none I think

Request: Anonymous said:
Can I have a Nolan Holloway imagine please. Maybe something like Nolan and y/n are put together for a project and Nolan is really shy so when She goes over to his house to start he doesn’t know what to say but he gets more comfortable and lots of fluff please

A/N: Everyone needs to thank @joegibson1983 because without his help from the last time I broke my screen, I wouldn’t be abe to post!! This will probably be the last one I post for about a week, because it’s getting sent out tomorrow.


Originally posted by shitposting-tozier

               “Nolan and Y/n,” My history teacher yelled. I looked up from my book to see her staring at me. “Go sit next to each other. You’re partners.” I sighed and stood up, slinging my bag over my shoulder, and walked over to his table. I sat down beside him and gave him a half-smile.

               “Hey,” I stated, waving slightly. He just stared at me for a little bit before whispering a ‘hi’ back.

               “The project will be to create a model of any of the famous landmarks we have talked about this semester. It should be painted and decorated accordingly. The better it looks, the more points you get. It’s due October 17th. Talk about it for the rest of the period.” She then began passing out packets of paper with the information for the project on it.

               I turned to Nolan with a better smile than before. “Okay, do you want to do it at your house or mine,” I questioned, already knowing what I wanted to do for it. It would probably be what we were going to make as it looked like Nolan had no idea what we had even donw this semester. It wasn’t surprising, considering he had been gone for most of school this semester, fighting werewolves or whatever. I could care less.

               “Uh, can we do it at my house? My parents won’t be home and I have a lot of food,” he mumbled, obviously not used to the interaction. I nodded and quickly pulled out my phone to text my mom.

               “Can you drive me by chance? My car’s in the shop and I had my mom drive me here this morning,” I questioned, reading the text my mom had sent me as an okay. I looked up from my phone to see Nolan nodding. I sighed and slumped in my seat. He was going to be hard to work with.


               School had ended and I met with Nolan by the entrance of the school. He was slouched and he looked as if he would pass out any second. I bit my lip for a second before walking over to him, greeting him with a bubbly ‘hi.’

               His head shot up, as if he had fallen asleep against the wall, and he waved at me. “Uh, my car’s over there.”

               I nodded and we began the short walk to his car in silence. Then we stepped into the car in silence. Then the drive was silent. And when we arrived, it was silent. It seemed as if neither of us could figure out what to say to start a conversation, so we stayed quiet.

               We stepped out of the car, Nolan surprisingly opening my door as I rummaged through my bag for something, and we walked into the decently sized house. The house had a warm color scheme that made me feel at home. The floors were a dark wood, the walls a beige, and the furniture a dark brown. We stepped into the living room, and Nolan asked if I wanted to eat anything.

               I shrugged and he walked off to the kitchen. I sat down on the large couch and pulled out some supplies I had gotten from the art teacher. I laid the materials out on the glass coffee table before looking up as Nolan walked back in.

               He was holding two bags of chips and two glasses of water. He placed them on the table and sat beside.

               “Okay, so we’re going to make the Eiffel Tower. I have this print out of it, and I think we could do it. What do you think?” I asked, fiddling with my fingers as Nolan listened. He nodded slightly and smiled, surprising me. Maybe this would be easier than I thought.

               So, we began to work when Nolan asked me something. “So, how was your day?”

               I looked over to him and my eyebrow rose. “It was pretty good. How was yours?”

               “Pretty good,” he nodded as if trying to convince himself. Then, it was silent again until he spoke. “I’m sorry,” he stopped working and laid back against the couch. “I’m really bad at this kid of thing and I’m probably freaking you out.” He placed his hands on his face and groaned. “I’m a terrible partner.”

               I laughed lightly and took away his hands from his face. “Actually, I think you’re a pretty good partner. Just because you don’t talk a lot doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy your company. In fact, we got a lot more done then I thought we would, so why don’t we take a break. We can watch a movie or something. It’s only five.”

               Nolan smiled a boyish smile and nodded. “That’s be cool.”

               So, we flicked on the TV, scrolling through the endless movies and talked. We talked about school, friends, family. I talked about how my best friend was ignoring me for some reason, how I had recently become friends with Malia, and how my dad was working late shifts at the police station because we were low on money. He told me about his fake friends, his hatred towards Scott in the beginning that turned into friendship, and how his parents never even seemed to be home enough to care about him. Conversation became easier and easier, and we found ourselves completely ignoring the movie that was playing in the background, preferring each other’s conversation over a Star Wars marathon.

                 It wasn’t until my phone began going off like crazy that we noticed how much time had passed. My dad began texting me like crazy. He had just come home form his shift at the station to see me still away. It was three in the morning.

                “Oh my gosh,“ I laughed. Nolan looked at me confused. "We’ve been talking for hours literally.” I showed him my phone screen. He chuckled for a oment before going bright red. I stood up and stretched for a second before I began to pack up. “I guess I should head home, shouldn’t I?”

                   I sent a quick text to my dad with the address and to get me which he responded to almost immdiately.

                   Nolan nodded and stood up, helping me get my stuff together.

                “This was fun,” i said, smiling at Nolan. he nodded and smiled quickly.

                   We stared at each other for a few moments before my dad honked his horn outside. That was quick, I thought. I began to head towards the door when nolan stopped me, grabbing my wrist loosely. 

                “Wait!” I looked aat him confused and rose my eyebrow, silently telling him to continue. “I- I was wondering if, well, since this was pretty great, if you maybe want to go on a date with me. Like, this Saturday? But, I mean, it’s okay if you do’twant to. I don’t want to pressure you or anything, but,” I cut him off from his rambling by placing my hand on his mouth.

                “I’d love that,” I spoke to him.

                He nodded slowly and grinned wide. He smiled wide and led me towards the door.

                “So Saturday?” I questioned. Nolan nodded happily. I nodded to myself and smiled at Nolan again. I just couldn’t seem to stop. “I’ll see you then, I guess,” I stated before placing a quick kiss to his cheek and my phone number in his hand. I then ran out of the house and into my dad’s car where I knew I would be lectured, but I coudn’t are less. My mind was still on the boy I seemed to fall for already.

Pulls and Tugs {Chekov x Reader} {Soulmate AU}

Prompt: Soulmate AU
Warnings: N/A
Word Count: ~1000
A/N: So here is an embarrassingly short fic I made as a break to a long one I’m currently writing.

Everyone is born with it. The red string attached to their wrists. The one only they can see. The one that connects them to their soulmate. You always have the feeling. The feeling that you need to follow it. And find them. You can fight it if need be, but if you’re scared or in distress you will start following it. Always. The closer you get the more the string pulls. And if you’re extremely close the string will stop letting you walk away. The string stops growing for your convenience. (Well unless you had a strong mind and were able to defeat its pull) It only shrinks until you follow it and find your soulmate.

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Secret is Out: Part 1

Prompt: What happens when secret identities are taken away from every DC superhero?

AN: I really couldn’t get this idea out of my head. So, now I’m starting a new series. I think it’s going to turn out well, because it’s going to deal with a lot of the DC heroes. Thanks to my wonderful betas for plowing through my stories!

Words: 613

Your heart is racing, your lungs are pumping air, but you can’t stop to breathe. You’ve already ditched your heels in favor of your stocking feet. Running in heels simply isn’t practical, especially when it comes to the stairs.

You don’t pause to say anything to his secretary like you normally do, you simply burst through the doors, and lock it behind you. Bruce looks up at you with a raised eyebrow, “Something wrong?”

“News,” You gasp for breath before repeating yourself, “Turn on the news, channel 10.” One more breath and then, “Quick.”

You watch as the T.V. turns on, and then you watch as his facial expression turns to one of disbelief, “This can’t be happening.”

You move towards him, and take his hand. He squeezes once to let you know that he’s okay, well as okay as one can be in this circumstance. There’s a moment of silence before he takes a deep breath and says, “We need to get home. Now. Before they get to us.”  

You nod, as he leads you out the door. The two of you run down the hallway, all the way down to the parking garage. Bruce pulls out into traffic before your seatbelt is even buckled. “Get on the phone, and call all the boys home. Tell them to do whatever they have to, to get home.”

You nod, and pull out your phone to begin making the calls. You listen as Bruce flips the radio on, and your heart sinks as another name is read out. Then right as you pull through the gates to the manor the name you had been hoping wouldn’t be called is. “Batman, is billionaire Bruce Wayne.”

Bruce doesn’t even blink as the gates close and he arms the security. He pulls into the garage. The two of you are out of the car and inside within the next minute, where you’re met by Alfred. “Emergency protocols have been activated, all of the boys have checked in, including Master Damian, who has officially ditched class, and is being picked up by Master Tim.”

Bruce nods, “Turn on the radio please Alfred.”

The butler simply nods, and your heart stops at the next name. “Nightwing, is Richard  Grayson, adopted son of Bruce and Y/N Wayne.”

You hand goes to your mouth, “Bruce.”

He wraps an arm around your shoulders, “They’re okay, they’ve checked in. They’ll be here soon.”

“They’re not the only ones.” You jump a bit at the new voice, but relax at the sight of Clark. “Figured this was the best place to come. The other leaguers are also on the way. I suppose we need to decide what to do next.”

“We wait for everyone to get here first.” You watch as your husband ticks the boys off of a list, “Dick left mid-shift at the police station, Tim left school, and is picking up Damian. Even Jason is coming in.” Then he turns to Clark, “Go back down to the cave, keep a list, make sure everyone is accounted for.”

Clark nods, before removing his glasses, “I suppose I don’t need those anymore, do I?”

Bruce just shakes his head, “No, I suppose not. No more secret identities.”

Clark just nods before walking away. You turn to your husband, “How did they get everyone’s identity?” Bruce just sighs before sinking down to the floor. You slide down next to him, “I don’t know.”

You take a deep breath, “This changes absolutely everything.”

Bruce just wraps an arm around you and pulls you in, “Yes it does.”

          You snuggle into his side, “Everything will be okay, somehow.”

Bruce just kisses your forehead, “I really hope so.”

friends to lovers!ten

prompt: how about a scenario in which the reader enters a convenience store, late night, wearing super fancy clothes and ten works in this store and they talk and sparks fly and there’s a little bit of angst but lots of fluff?

Originally posted by sunnyten0227

  • okay well so this request immediately made me think of that ten gif where he is wearing those pajama pants nd the black sweater
  • y'all KNOW the one
  • i found it and added it ^^
  • but that outfit comes in a lot later in this scenario so we’ll skip it for now
  • okay so the setting is prom
  • nd the most popular boy in school asked you so you bought this super fancy dress and wore your nicest heals and jewelry
  • you even wore fake eyelashes like you wanted to look n i c e
  • bc you’re not very popular in school and you thought your senior year would’ve gone unnoticed by everyone
  • but the cutest (*´꒳`*) boy in school asked YOU out and so ofc you accepted
  • but :(((

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anonymous asked:

Still taking Bechloe prompts? How about SuperChloe with secret identity and normal human beca that has a crush on Chloe's secret Identity?

So I got waaaaaaaaay to into writing this. Hope you enjoy!


Beca looked down at her phone before looking back at Chloe, squinting.

“What?” Chloe asked, confused. “Do I have something on my face?”

“No,” Beca said, still looking puzzled. “It’s just… the Barden Bella really looks like you.” She looked back down at her phone.

“Who?” Chloe asked.

“Are you kidding? The superhero that’s been whizzing around Barden saving people all month? Do you not look at the news? Or Twitter? Or anything?”

“Let me see her,” Chloe said sitting down on Beca’s sofa beside her.

Beca showed her the blurry photo someone had snapped of this new mysterious superhero.

“I don’t see it,” Chloe said, tilting her head.

“I mean, you’re cuter, obviously,” Beca said, zooming in on the photo. “But I think if you took your glasses off and put on one of those masks then maybe…”

“Well without my glasses, I’d be blind,” Chloe said, standing up and returning to the kitchen.

“I wasn’t saying this is you, you just look like her,” Beca said laughing. “I like your glasses anyway.”

Chloe laughed and shook her head. “You’re full of the compliments today.”

“Yeah,” Beca said. “Hey, chuck me a coke will you?”

“Sure,” Chloe said, tossing Beca a can without thinking.

The sheer force of the throw caused the can to explode all over Beca as soon as it hit her.

“Dude! Did you shake this up?”

“No!” Chloe said, half amused, half terrified. She had to be more careful.

“Well maybe you should stop working out. Jesus, the Hulk would throw gentler than that,” Beca said, standing up. She went into her room to change and Chloe chastised herself for being so careless with her strength.

“You don’t have to look that guilty,” Beca said when she came back into the room. “It was just coke.” She reached into the refrigerator and got her own can, tentatively opening it over the sink. “You okay?” Beca asked.

“Yeah,” Chloe said, smiling. She ran a hand through her hair and it cause her top to ride up, exposing a graze on her hip.

“Dude, what happened?” Beca said, rushing over.

“Oh, I just hit it on a wall,” Chloe said, pulling her shirt down. “No big deal.”

Beca raised an eyebrow to show she didn’t believe her before lifting the shirt up slightly so she could see the scrape again. “Looks like it hurts,” Beca said. She lightly touched the area around it, and Chloe’s breath hitched slightly.

She had gotten the graze when she had been out last night, patrolling the streets. She’d been moving too quickly and caught her foot on something which sent her crashing to the ground. It hadn’t hurt, and she didn’t even notice it until she showered when she’d gotten home. Her knees were also scraped.

“It doesn’t hurt,” she said, softly.

They were quiet for a minute, just looking at each other. Beca was still holding the hem of Chloe’s shirt.



“Is there something you’re not telling me?” Beca asked.

Chloe swallowed. She wanted to tell her. So bad. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t tell anyone.

Chloe shook her head.

“If you say so,” Beca said, letting her shirt go and heading back into the living room.

Chloe let out a breath before joining Beca on the sofa.

“What are you doing tonight?” Beca asked. “Wanna hang out? Watch a movie?”

“I wish I could,” Chloe said. “I’ve got this thing to do tonight.”

“Okay,” Beca said, not quite hiding her disappointment. “Maybe when you’re done with your thing you could come over?”

“Sure,” Chloe said. “I’ll try.”

She hated lying to Beca, but she couldn’t exactly tell her that she was planning to patrol the streets of Barden fighting crime all night.


It was around 11pm when Beca finally left the radio station that night. Since Chloe had had other plans, Beca agreed to take Jesse’s shift at the radio station so he could take his girlfriend out. She locked the doors to the station and began meandering back to her apartment.

It had been so quiet since Stacie had moved out and then in with Aubrey and Chloe. Beca had been secretly hoping that Chloe would want to move in with her but she’d never had the courage to ask. So Beca was alone for now.

If she hadn’t been so preoccupied thinking about Chloe, she would have heard the footsteps rapidly approaching her from behind.

Chloe was halfway across town when she got the… feeling.

It was stronger than usual.

She closed her eyes and tried to pinpoint where it was coming from.

Her eyes snapped open.

The University radio station


Beca groaned as she pulled herself to her feet, leaning against the wall.

She reached up and touched the spot on her forehead where she’d been hit. When she saw the blood on her hand she threw up.

She reached for her bag so she could get her phone and call someone but of course, she no longer had her bag.

She looked around to see if there was anyone about, and she saw something red and blue streak past her. Was that… the Barden Bella?

It felt like seconds later that they were back, carrying her bag.

“Shit,” they said, “you’re hurt.”

“Hey, you got my bag back!” She said happily. Then she looked into the eyes behind the mask and studied them. They were so familiar. “I know you…” She said, before throwing up again, thankfully missing the costumed superhero in front of her.

“You need to go to hospital,” they said, their voice loaded with concern. She knew the voice too, even though they were trying to disguise it. “I’ll take you.”

“Can you call Chloe for me?” Beca asked. She was still feeling dizzy, and stumbled after taking a few steps.

“Sure,” they said before scooping her up, carrying her bridal style.

“Are you going to call her now?”

They laughed. “Not yet. My hands are full.”

She knew that laugh.

“Chloe,” she mumbled, almost drunkenly. “Chloe’s my favourite. I think… I love her.”

“Okay,” they said, their voice faltering slightly. “You need that head injury looking at. Hold on.”

Beca didn’t have time to ask what for before they were speeding in the direction of the hospital.

Beca was placed unsteadily on her feet at the entrance and she managed to make it two steps inside before her legs buckled.

“Shit,” they said, lifting Beca to her feet again. The people in the hospital turned to face them. “Someone take care of her!” They shouted before the shot out of the door again.

Beca winced as the final stitch was pulled through the cut in her head.

“Ow,” she mumbled.

“Don’t worry,” the doctor said. “It’s all done. Now, have you got someone who can take you home? You really shouldn’t be by yourself tonight.”

“I’ll take her,” a voice said. Beca turned her head and saw Chloe standing at the gap in the curtain which had been pulled around her cubicle.

“Chloe!” Beca said, finally smiling. “Dude, you won’t believe the night I’ve had.”

“Come on,” Chloe said, holding out her hand. “Let’s get you home.”

“Chloe,” Beca said, after they’d been walking quietly for a while. “Why didn’t you ask me what had happened?”

“I, uh, I figured you’d tell me when you were ready.”

“Chloe,” Beca said again. “You don’t have to pretend with me you know. I know who you are.”

Chloe swallowed. “I don’t know what you mean,” she said.

Beca brought them to a stop. She reached up and took off Chloe’s glasses.

“I don’t know how you thought you could fool me with these,” Beca said, placing them on her own face. “They’re just glass. They’ve just been glass for about a month now. Ever since the Barden Bella first turned up.” She handed Chloe her glasses back. “And your eyes. Chloe… I’d be able to pick your eyes out of a line-up. They’re the most beautiful… most perfect eyes I’ve ever seen. When I see them, I feel safe. And not because they’re the eyes of a superhero, but because they’re yours.”

“How long have you known?” Chloe asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Since the first time I saw those pictures online,” Beca said.

“Did you mean what you said to her-” she stopped herself. “To me?”

“Yes,” Beca replied. “I love you. Always have. Always will.”

“I love you too,” Chloe replied, leaning forward and kissing her.

“So,” Beca said, smiling as they broke apart. “Now that it’s all out in the open, how about you speed us back home?”

“Actually, the speed is all part of the suit,” Chloe said, laughing.

“Oh. You’re gonna have to explain this all to me,” Beca said, linking their hands again as they carried on walking.

Chloe smiled. She gently squeezed her hand, fully aware that if she didn’t watch herself, she could easily break Beca’s fingers if she wasn’t careful.

“Well it all started when I was sixteen.”

You’ve Got To Hide Your Love Away

(For the record, the song by the Beatles is fantastic and I recommend. That being said, this is not like the song. Instead it’s basically just the entirety of their relationship)

“Chloe?” The redhead tilted her head up from the textbook she was currently staring at in Barden’s best little coffee shop, turning to face the boy who said her name.

“Yeah, Jesse?” Chloe asked, a sweet smile painted on her lips, one that meant for both peace and war regarding her Beca.

(Her Beca, she mentally scolded herself, noting the whole ‘friends with benefits’ thing they had going on hardly made the brunette hers.)

“I was wondering if you’d help me? With uh… Beca, actually. I know you two are close and I was wondering if maybe you’d help me ask her out?” Jesse nervously bounced on the heels of the shoes, grasping a textbook in one hand and a coffee in the other.

The thing about Jesse was he was a good kid. He was sweet and funny and nice. And although he had been pestering Beca for the majority of the year, the redhead couldn’t help but feel a little bad for him. It wasn’t like the brunette who was the object of his affection hated him. They hung out willingly every once in a while from what Chloe remembered. It’s just that Chloe had a good thing going with Beca. Secret, private, and sweet. This was a grey area.

“Oh um… I don’t really know why you’d want my help,” Chloe said, nervously smiling at the boy.

“Well I just know she talks about you a lot. How you helped recruit her for the Bellas and everything way back at the start of the year. It’s the end of the year now and… you’re a senior and she’s a freshman. I just figured you had some mentoring role and could… extend the service to me. Mentor me in the art of wooing her,” Jesse scratched his neck before grabbing the seat next to the redhead, “here, look!”

Jesse pulled out a laptop and notebook, opening them each up to reveal notes on how to ask the DJ out and a mix in progress.

“What’s this?” Chloe giggled, looking at the screen she was being shown.

“I’ve been trying to make a mix for her. And I was gonna get a boombox and stand outside her window, or maybe serenade her in the park or-”

Chloe had pretty much droned off, thinking about the time she jokingly made Beca a mix and serenaded her in the park with a small Beats Pill and some dorky ‘Dancing Queen’ By ABBA mixed with more ‘dorky jams’ as Chloe called them.

‘I’m eighteen you know,’ Beca had said.

‘You are the dancing queen, young and sweet, only eighteen,’ Chloe sang jokingly, ‘just doesn’t have the same ring to it.’

‘Whatever, you dork. Let’s get back to your apartment and I can show you how it’s done.’

‘The mixing or the serenading?’ the redhead cocked a brow.

‘Both. And maybe something else,’ Beca winked, grabbing the redhead’s hand and the speaker.

‘I like the sound of that.’

“That sounds… I dunno, Jesse. Sounds like something too cliche for her,” Chloe said, trying to give the best advice possible, despite it hurting her.

“Oh. Okay. Well… what do you think I should do?” He asked her.

“You know, I think you should just ask her. Honestly you shouldn’t have to rely on a big gesture to get her to say yes. She either will or she won’t, but it’s just a date you’re asking her out on. Not a proposal,” Chloe pointed out, collecting her things to leave.

“Where’re you going?” He asked innocently.

“I’ve got Bellas practice in fifteen minutes. See ya, Jesse! Good luck!”

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Summary: Bucky knows he needs to get over his fear of trains, yet he has been unable to step foot inside a metro car. When a teenage girl needs his help at a metro station, will he be able to get over his fear in order to save her in time?

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Reader, OFCs

Warnings: cat calling, mentions of rape, cursing

Oneshot Masterlist


Bucky sighed as he watched yet another metro car roll past him. He had no idea how long he had been standing on the platform, but it was long enough for him to wave seventeen metros away.

Bucky hadn’t been on a train since The Incident more than seventy years ago. Trains had certainly changed since then. Now they were underground, on the ground, and even above ground. The traffic in New York City was absolutely horrific on a good day, so he knew the easiest way to travel was by metro.

But he was afraid.

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