Divided: Part 21

Pairings: Bucky x Reader, Steve x Reader

Warnings: Angst, blood, violence 

Word Count: 3160

Summary: You and T’Challa arrive in Siberia to find your teammates already engaged in combat.

Authors Note:  As I updated a week or two ago, I have been going through a lot of difficulties lately, and having a bit of a rough time with it. Because of this my free time and my writing ability has suffered. A lot of the reason that this has taken so long is because I suffered a lot of anxiety about returning and being good enough after taking such a hiatus. But this is my attempt to get back in the game, so hopefully you enjoy it <3  I always love hearing from you all, so drop a line with thoughts or predictions!  Tagging is open, just ask, if you are on my tag list and your username has changed PLEASE let me know!

Divided: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 

Your legs twitch nervously as T’Challa’s fingers flick at the controls, landing his plane smoothly on the ground. Within an instant, you unclasp your buckle and rise to your feet, your breath catching in your chest as you spot Steve and Bucky’s stolen quinjet a few yards ahead.

You hurry towards the weapons lining the side wall of the plane as T’Challa moves quickly beside you, his hand catching your wrist as you reach for one of the many knives.

“Relax your Highness,” You roll your eyes as you attempt to twist out of his grip, his hand holding firm, “I’m not grabbing for you… whether I like it or not, you and I are on the same side now.” You huff as he releases you, shaking his head slowly.

“Oh no… you are staying here, young one.” His low voice instructs you, a veiled threat present in his tone. “I will be retrieving Barnes on my own, I do not need you interfering again to save your boyfriend.”  

You breathe slowly, trying to curb your frustration as the clock ticks onwards, precious seconds being wasted in an argument. For all you know, the assassins could have already killed your friends and escaped.

“Look. I get it. You don’t trust me. But right now we are up against a much larger danger. You think my ‘boyfriend’ is a threat? Inside these walls there are 5 super assassins that my team is going up against. We are drastically outmatched, but at least if you bring me along we don’t have to be outnumbered.” You speak quickly, the exasperation in your tone making your agitation clear as your foot taps in annoyance, every second wasted allowing more room for loss.

T’Challa stands for a moment, considering you, “Very well, suit up.” You heed his words, hurriedly selecting your weapons as you replenish the holsters of your tactical suit. He places his helmet on as he moves towards the back of the plane, firmly hitting a button to descend the ramp.

You follow swiftly after him, your legs twinging painfully at the speed of your movement, you hurriedly hide your wince of pain as you fall into step beside T’Challa, your footfalls muffled by the soft snow beneath your boots.

You slowly approach the steel doors that had been left ajar by the previous visitors. Suddenly T’Challa’s plane exudes a large amount of exhaust, the unexpected sound causing you to whip around, your defenses trained for enemy fire.

In a moment, T’Challa had sped from your side, moving swiftly towards the steel doors, bending them solidly shut behind him as the lock clicks into place, leaving you barred on the outside.

“HEY!” You shriek, your fist beating angrily against the cold, rusted steel. “T’Challa! You idoit! What the fuck are you doing?”

“I am sorry young scorpion, but I believe I am doing what is right, I cannot have you interfering.” His words fall swiftly through the door as they fade.

Your hands beat harshly against the metal, willing it to buckle beneath your fervent fists as a slew of profanities tear from your lips.

You stare at your blocked entrance through frustrated tears. Taking a few deep breaths, looking around quickly, seeking any indication of an alternative way in.

Escape hatch. You think fleetingly, beginning to climb up the snow mound by the side of the door, seeking to get on top of the fortress.

With so much underground they would need alternative ways out. I just have to find one… Your foot slips slightly as you scale the wall, using your knives to push hand holds into the firm snow. After a bit of difficulty, you pull yourself to the top, seeing a handful of large launching pads dispersed throughout the flat roof, but no clear manholes.

You move tentatively, unsure of your footing or what defenses may be present. Suddenly the ground shakes beneath you, causing you to crouch down, steadying your balance on the slippery snow, the deafening sound of an explosion below causing your heart to pound fervently.

Suddenly you see something in the distance, a man in a long black jacket emerging from the white ground. You react quickly as he begins to run.

“Hey!” you yell, moving hastily on his tail. But your attention is briefly diverted as the ground shakes once more, causing you to lose your footing, sending you sliding to your knees, stopping only feet from a large launch hatch that was suddenly opening.

Frantically rising to your feet, you dodge the snow debris falling from the door of the hatch. As it opens you can hear the sound of yelling faintly over the whine of the metal gears.

Without thinking you begin running towards the large hole, stopping short as you gaze down the maze of grates lining the wall. You watch as a large dark figure jumps across from grate to grate, his metal arm catching himself as he pulls his body up onto the platform.

Without a moment of hesitation, you scamper down the ladder, not thinking of anything else but reaching Bucky. Jumping from the middle rung, you hit the platform firmly, allowing your knees to bend as you absorb the shock of the landing.

Hurriedly turning around, you see Stark collide forcefully with Bucky, sending him sprawling backwards onto a lower platform. “BUCKY!” You scream, looking down on him, running hurriedly along the wall of platforms as you try to get to him.

“Stark Stop!!” You plead as Bucky looks up to you, leaving himself vulnerable for a moment,

“Scorpion, this is your final warning, stay out of it.” You gasp as Stark takes the cheap shot, sending a blast straight at Bucky. Steve appears just in time, placing his shield up in front of Bucky as the shot reverberates back at Stark, knocking him against the opposing wall.

“What are you doing here?” Bucky yells up to you, fear and joy warring for dominance across his features as he moves quickly from Steve, climbing the walls and platforms, ascending to you.

You kneel down, watching him climb up to you as Stark rises to his feet once more, resuming his pursuit. “Watch out!” You yell, attempting to give a warning, but Steve reacts first, wrapping a thin wire around Starks neck as he jumps towards the ground, dragging Tony with him.

Your attention switches quickly back to Bucky, speaking words of encouragement as you watch him make large and dangerous jumps, every moment coming closer to you. “Come on!” You shout as you hear Cap’s shield clatter to the ground, just as Bucky makes a particularly risky jump to the platform you are kneeling on.

His fingers dig into the grate as he hangs below, you frantically fumble your hands along his back helping to pull him up. Within an instant you are both on your feet and frantically climbing, hopping the few more platforms to the ladder.

He begins to climb ahead of you, both of you frantically scaling the rungs with speed. You scream as the hinge abruptly explodes beside you, Stark’s missile coming in firm contact as the door groans, collapsing downwards.

You drop down hurriedly, ducking into the shelter of the ladder as Bucky jumps to the opposite wall, both of you narrowly avoiding debris from the blast.

“Y/N!” You hear him cry out in concern as you shift into a crouched position, coming into eye contact as you both realize that you are trapped.

Stark rises swiftly between you, going after Bucky as he ferociously swings a large pipe from the debris. Your hands scramble hurriedly around you, reaching for fragmented bits of concreate as you begin to send a barrage of flying objects at Stark.

But to no avail, Stark moves swiftly, locking his arms around Bucky’s neck before speaking clearly to him as you scream, pleading with Tony to release him. “Do you even remember them?” He asks forcefully.

You fall into silence as you watch Bucky’s face, pain and regret flashing across his features. “I remember all of them.” He speaks slowly, struggling to breathe as Tony’s metal limbs wrap around him.

“Tony please.” You beg, tears falling from your eyes once again. “No!” You scream, as Stark flies down taking Bucky with him. You jump without thinking, adrenaline pulsing through you as you fling yourself at Stark’s back, wrapping your limbs around him and clinging on for dear life as the three of you fall down the shaft.

“Y/N!” Steve yells as he jumps across, catching you around the waist, causing you to dislodge and slam back against the wall, coming to rest painfully on a platform, gasping for air at the impact.

Bucky, Tony, and Steve fall quickly, the force of Steve’s contact causing their bodies to ricochet against the wall, sending Bucky flying to a platform a few floors beneath you. Groaning, you roll onto your stomach, pushing yourself to all fours as you look down at Bucky, breathing with a sigh of relief as you see him moving.

He makes eye contact with you, as you nod, reassuring him that you are alright. You rise hurriedly, dropping down each platform, silently working your way towards him. He quickly rises to all fours as he looks down at Steve.

“This isn’t going to change what happened.” Steve’s soft voice reverberates up the shaft, echoing in the cavern.

“I don’t care.” Tony says firmly, standing in opposition to Steve. “He killed me mom.” You gasp audibly as Stark flies forward at Steve, Bucky’s eyes connecting with yours as you drop to the platform next to him, taking a large jump onto the one he was standing on.

His arms wrap firmly around you, catching your momentum as you wince painfully at the impact on your abused legs. “I…” He whispers, the tentative tone of an excuse coming.

“Not now love.” You whisper placing a sharp kiss to his lips to let him know where your head was. “I know.” Your fingers quickly ghost over his jaw as you move to the adjacent platform, retrieving Steve’s shield as you move down towards your Captain.

“No,” Bucky says firmly, pulling the shield out of your hands as you both scramble downwards, “You’re hurt enough. Please stay out of harm’s way. I’ll protect him… Old habits die hard I guess.” He shrugs sheepishly as he turns from you.

Before you can argue, Bucky jumps the last few feet to the battle below, raising the shield high above his head as he brings the edge crashing down into Stark’s back. Stark responds immediately sending a blast that reflects off the shield and comes flying up towards you as you narrowly dodge it.

You watch from a safe distance as Bucky throws the shield back to Steve, knowing full well that you would be more of a nuisance at this time, with your weakened state and the ineffectiveness of your weapons against Stark’s iron shield.

You watch helplessly as the two super soldiers take on their friend, working seamlessly to double team him and drop him quickly to his knees.

As elated as you want to feel at them grabbing the upper hand, the constant twinge of heartbreak still tears through your body as you remember who is in the suit.

Then suddenly the hand shifts, Steve catches a blast to the stomach and is thrown backwards, leaving Bucky to take on Stark alone. You cannot stand idly by as he takes hit after hit, you move quickly descending to the main area as Bucky regains the upper hand, ferociously slamming Stark against the wall, his metal hand digging into the core of Tony’s suit.

You stop in your hurried movements, frozen as you rush forward, watching the animalistic tendency taking over the man you love. The hardened heart of the beaten and broken assassin burning through.

“Bucky! Bucky stop!” You cry, but he cannot hear you, his own savage scream drowning out your plea. With a sudden blast of light, he is thrown backwards, coming to land harshly on his knee, his eyes wide with shock as his gaze falls on the smoking exposed wires where his metal arm just was.

You move quickly, stepping between Stark and him as Stark raises his hand once again. “Move!” Tony hollers at you, but you stand firmly blocking his path to Bucky as he tries to aim around you. You rush forward your hands reaching for the blaster on his palm as you try to deflect him.

“Tony! Tony, stop! Please! STOP!” You plead rapidly, as you try to block him, “MOVE!” He screams once more trying to push you aside, but you hold on tighter, refusing to step aside.

With one quick motion, Stark’s arm sweeps against your waist, catching you painfully right along the ribs as the strength of his blow sends you flying back against the ramp. You hit the concreate painfully, your head smacking forcefully to the ground as you roll down to lie at the base of the ramp.

Your vision is blurry as you see Bucky fly forward once more, Starks blast coming into contact with him. You fight against the swimming sensation in your brain, you try helplessly to rise to your knees once more, as Steve rushes forward, his shield deflecting the oncoming blasts from Tony, protecting Bucky once again, sending light deflecting throughout the enclosure.

Your vision blurs again as Steve engages Tony in combat, your eyes scan roughly along the ground, spotting Bucky, seemingly unconscious, a few feet from you. You fight to get to your knees again, but your consciousness is swimming in and out. You close your eyes as your bloodied cheek presses to the cool concrete.

“He’s my friend.” You hear Steve’s plea, drifting to your deafening ears as if in a distant room. “So was I.” Tony responds, his voice becoming clearer as you force your eyes open again, seeing Tony slam hit after hit into your Captain’s face as Bucky stirs slowly behind him.

You raise your head as Stark grabs Steve by his straps, throwing him roughly against a pillar, “Stay down. Final warning.” Stark snarls, standing threatening in front of Steve.

You watch as your Captain struggles to his feet, falling roughly back into fighting stance. His perseverance inspiring you once more as you press your palms firmly to the ground and push back onto your knees, yelping quietly when a sharp pain stings your side as you breathe.

“I could do this all day.” Steve breathes heavily, raising his fists once more as your vision swims again, your hands gripping harshly at the floor as the world seems to move around you. You know you have pushed your body to its limits, and unlike the super soldiers surrounding you, you were unable to recover so quickly.

You watch helpless as Stark prepares another blast for Steve, but Bucky moves instinctively, grabbing at Starks ankle and subsequently receiving a sharp kick to the face as he falls backwards to the ground.

If nothing else had been able to force clarity back into your head, the site of the blood trickling from Bucky’s face had done the trick. You moved quickly, ignoring the intense pain in your side with every breath or movement.

You grit your teeth as your body threatens to lose consciousness. In the moment that Stark was distracted by your and Bucky’s sudden movements, Steve is able to step forward and gain the upper hand, raising the iron man high above his head before throwing him forcefully against a pillar.

Steve moves on top of Tony trapping him down, as you hurry over to Bucky, touching his face softly as his eyes try to focus on you. “Come on, baby. Buck. Bucky! We have to get you out of here, come on, come on!” You whisper fervently your pleas falling on deaf ears.

His remaining hand rises up to meet your face, his warm fingers wiping at the sticky blood dribbling down your cheek. You press into his touch as your tears mix with the dirt and blood, creating clear tracks down your cheek.

You turn your attention to Steve, knowing that you did not have the strength to move Bucky on your own.

Your Captain had retained the upper hand, but with each hit the ferocity of his movements were mimicking Bucky’s lack of control, with each contact he was chipping away at what had always made him your Captain.

“Captain,” You call out, allowing Bucky’s hand to drop from your face as you rise with difficulty to your feet. Steve continues in his abusive, repetitive action, ramming the shield with malice into Starks mask, exposing Tony’s fearful face as he raises the shield once more.

“Steve!” You yell, your hand coming in contact with his shoulder as he looks up at you, his eyes black and wild with desperation. With a final growl, he crashes the shield into Tony’s chest, falling sideways off him as you all remain still for a moment, shocked by the deterioration of what was once a team.

“Tony… I…” You whisper regretfully as you extend a hand to Steve, pulling him roughly to his feet as you stagger on your own. Tony closes his eyes and turns away from you, small tears seeping from the corners of his eyes. He rolls onto his side as Steve steps beside you retrieving his shield and wrapping an arm around your waist to steady you on your feet, before he moves past you to pull Bucky to his.

“Tony… I’m so sorry.” You whisper as you kneel beside him, reaching for his shoulder and helping to pull him into a more upright position. His eyes connect with yours, his expression softening slightly as he looks at your tear stained cheeks. Tear tracks having carved pathways in the fresh blood painted along the side of your face, as bruises quickly formed beneath your skin.

“I never wanted you to get hurt.” He whispers, his gaze falling from you once again as he falls back on his arm. “I…”

“Y/N.” Steve speaks firmly. Stark’s gaze rises to Steve once more, as he stands there looking coldly down at him, supporting Bucky by his side.

“That shield doesn’t belong to you.” Stark spits, as you rise hesitantly to your feet, retreating over to Steve and Bucky as you loop your arm around Bucky’s waist to help him. Steve turns you all away as Tony bellows after him, “You don’t deserve it. My father made that shield!”

Steve stops, causing Bucky to stumble beside you. You glance to your Captain, seeing that the clear blue of his eyes had returned as he looks ahead in sadness. With a deep sigh, he drops the shield beside him, the clatter of the metal providing a finality to the confrontation, as if a door had sealed shut.

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lifeisshiny  asked:

Hello lovelies! My birthday is coming up on February 7, can I request a drabble? :) xoxo

Originally posted by musicandrave

Wishing you a very happy birthday! To celebrate, here’s a little taste of Everlark sweetness, just for you!


Rated G

Winter is hard.

Katniss and I have struggled with the winter since the end of the war. The cold, the dark, the lifelessness. The reminders of people we lost that cruel winter years ago.

Having children changed things, particularly for Katniss. She stopped spending dark days in bed, staring at ghosts, and started playing - taking the kids skating, having snowball fights. I’m not saying winter isn’t still hard. But in Willow, and then again two years ago in Rye, she seems to have found the strength to persevere, in spite of the winter blues. It’s not easy, but she and I both have been able to really live these past few winters, instead of just surviving. Our kids have definitely helped us see winter differently.

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And You May Lose Your Heart [Stephen Strange x Reader]

Author’s Note: Buckle up, folks. This is a long one. Ahaaaaa. This took a while to write. I haven’t written anything of this length in ages. But it was actually nice to take my time and really get detailed. Although I probably won’t do fics this long that often lol. Hope you like~

Spoiler Warning: They’re brief, but spoilers are spoilers. So.

Word Count: 11,054 (you read that right)

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dangerouslyaddictivethings  asked:

1988. Childhood friends, mutual pining after thousands years of denial. I love your fics so much. 10/10 recommend

Jonny first met Patrick in 1995, when Patrick smashed a handful of goldfish crackers into Jonny’s hair and giggled incessantly while Jonny tried to shake out the crumbs. His hands clenched at his sides, Jonny set his jaw and glared, but Patrick just smiled and asked if he wanted to play.

They built a castle together from dirt and sticks and Jonny put a worm down the back of Patrick’s shirt. They made a moat out of their juice boxes and didn’t even get scolded by their mothers, who planned a play-date as the sun went down.

Patrick’s life goal, it seemed, was to make Jonny laugh. Sometimes he was good at it - he’d make faces or put his underwear on over his pants - but sometimes he messed up. He’d call Jonny a name, or push him into a snow mound, and Jonny would cross his arms and plant himself until Patrick apologized.

Jonny started calling Patrick ‘Kaner’ after his first year in squirts hockey. Patrick was still too small to play and hated the nickname, until Jonny took him out on the ice behind his house and taught him how to steal a puck. After that, they were Kaner and Tazer, and they were on the same team the next year.

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Creepypasta #1026: The Saskatoon Freezing Deaths

Length: Super long

Have you ever had the displeasure of experiencing -40° weather? That’s Celsius and Fahrenheit, because -40° is the point where the two converge. It’s a temperature so cold that it’s impossible for snow to fall. If you’ve never felt it, allow me to explain what it’s like. 

Your eyelashes turn white with frost. They’ll start collecting humidity from your breath, forming icicles that make each lash stick to the other. Every time you blink, it’s a struggle to re-open your eyes. Even if you try not to blink, the air is so dry that you have to, otherwise your eyeballs start to hurt. With each inhale, your nose hairs freeze and shoot needles of pain up your nasal canals. Your coat – no matter how thick or expensive – stiffens like a pair of jeans forgotten to dry at the bottom of the washer. You’ll hear your clothes crackle like a down comforter with every move you make. Any exposed skin starts to burn. Your extremities freeze, and no matter how much you rub your hands, your fingers go numb. 

You feel compelled to move around to try and warm up, but moving lets more cold air through the openings in your clothes. If you’re lucky, moving will warm you up a bit. If you’re not, you’ll start feeling very hot. Too hot. A burning sensation will run up your spine, and you’ll start to sweat. This means you’ve reached the danger zone: the point where cold no longer feels cold, and where you start shedding your clothes to avoid “overheating”. That’s how you wind up dead. No matter how thin your gloves, how little your coat seems to help, in -40° weather, they’re essential. They’re a barrier between you and the biting chill. They’re the only things that can help keep you alive.

So, why am I saying this? Well, I want to tell you about something that’s been going on for decades in Saskatoon: gruesome cases of human rights violations come to be known as “The Saskatoon Freezing Deaths”. Before I started my story, I wanted you to understand how truly horrible it must be for its victims.

You see, officers in Saskatoon have a very “original” way of dealing with drunken Native Americans. In the middle of winter, they’ve been known to arrest drunkards, drive them outside of town, strip them to their underwear, and tell them to “walk it off”. The police call this the “Midnight Blue Tour”. As you might expect, the victims die of hypothermia long before they can make it back home. It’s not known how many have died in this way – a quick search of “missing sisters”, an unrelated issue where aboriginal women have gone missing, assumed dead –, will show you just how little the police and authorities care about the plight of Native Americans. 

“Participants” of the Midnight Blue Tour have allegedly been found frozen on the side of the road, and their deaths swept under the rug. However, from time to time, victims’ bodies won’t be found at all. Their footprints turn to drag marks leading to the forest, but no blood or animal tracks are ever left to explain what was doing the dragging. The officers never investigate these cases further.

You might be wondering where I fit in to all of this. See, my friend’s uncle went “missing” this winter. A few people came forward saying they’d seen a cop throwing him in his squad car and driving off, but there are no records of him getting booked. Here in Saskatoon, we’d all heard the rumors of the “Midnight Blue Tour”, but it was one of those things we never talked about. No one wanted to blab about the abuse of power, because we didn’t want to be the next victims of it, you know? In any case, let me take you back to when Paul first knocked on my door with the news.

That morning, I was getting ready to go to work when my friend Paul knocked on my door. As soon as I opened it, a wave of cold air came rushing over my bare feet. I was quick to let Paul in and close the door. My friend shuffled from foot to foot, rubbing his arms furiously to try and warm himself up.

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The Parent Trap - Part Three

Character: Dean Winchester

Warning: None

Word Count: 1,483

Pairing: Eventual Dean x Reader

Part One - Part Two

Summary: On a snow day, Mitchell asks to go to the park, but he’s got an ulterior motive.


   Monday comes, and it brings eight inches of snow with it, enough to close every school in the county. You and Mitchell indulge yourselves with extra sleep, and then you rise before him intending to make a pancake and bacon breakfast – one of the few things you can cook. Once the smell starts to waft down the hall, the nine-year-old shuffles out of his room sporting a bedhead and rumpled PJ’s.

   “Morning, sunshine.”

   “Morning, Mama.” He yawns.

   “Would you like your pancakes to look like anything special?”

   “Um, Mickey Mouse is fine.”

   “Taking it easy on me. That’s why you’re my favorite.”

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Random Flash headcanons

I have no justifications for these, they’re just random Flash headcanons bopping around in my head:

  1. Barry and Hal meet when they’re 36 and 38 years old, respectively.  Barry thinks Hal is the coolest thing since sliced bread.
  2. Barry’s favorite place to sit is the floor.
  3. Cisco loves those little marbles that inflate in water.
  4. Cisco also wants sugar gliders.  At least two, but three would be ideal.
  5. Caitlin’s favorite sport is curling.
  6. Oh, and Caitlin owns two cats, a Siamese and an orange tabby.
  7. Iris is incredibly good at making things work.  She can unlock a car with a coat hanger, fix any home project with duct tape, and squeeze onto an already full couch without making anyone fall off.
  8. Iris is also champion navigator and the ultimate two AM “please bail me out of jail” friend.
  9. Cynco have at least four kids, possibly five (I’m thinking they adopt Caleb, their second-oldest son).  They want twice as many as Westallen because “your kids are speedsters.”  Cisco loves being able to barely hold them all, while Barry’s lucky if Don and Dar* are in the same room.  (Oldest to youngest: Thiago, Caleb, Natalia, Zoe, and Leonardo.)
  10. [Barry: “Like the Ninja Turtle?” Cisco: *fist bumps* “Like the Ninja Turtle.”**]
  11. *Dar is my nickname for Dawn, because naming your kids homophones is a recipe for disaster.  It’s short for “Dawn Rose West-Allen.”  Dar rhymes with car.
  12. **Don is short for Donatello.  Like the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle.
  13. Don is really, really good at stacking cups.  He gives Uncle Wally a run for his money. 
  14. He’s also really good at chocolate chip cookies.  (Making and eating.)
  15. Dar has a black belt.
  16. Thiago is the world’s greatest sleeper, proven to be able to fall asleep in any environment.  He’s also really unfairly good at Jenga.
  17. Caleb knows ASL.
  18. Natalia is our blind Viber.  She is, by far, the most accurate Viber.  Whereas Thiago gets only impressions and Caleb can’t Vibe at all, Natalia has Cynco’s level of control.
  19. Zoe spends too much time with Don and Dar and is convinced that she can become a speedster if she gets struck by lightning, so she’s a storm junky.  In her teens, she’ll often hitch a ride with the Tornado Twins to chase their namesake for fun.
  20. Leo likes Iris the best because he wants to be The Flash’s hero, too.  He ends up being Thiago and Natalia’s righthand man in the field.
  21. Barry has the skating into view technique mastered.  Wally is envious and keeps trying, with varying degrees of success.  One time he plows into Barry and together they pulverize a massive mound of snow in the subsequent crash.
  22. Jesse is more timely than both of them, but she likes the increasingly spirited struggle that takes place whenever Wally, also relatively timely, tries to get Barry, exceptionally late, moving.  He’s not above dragging him out the door half-asleep.
  23. Barry Speed-purrs in his sleep.  Jesse can do it consciously, but she doesn’t do it clocked out.  When Wally snoozes he makes very soft purrs that are completely inaudible and totally overridden by Barry’s rumble-like-a-tiger growls. 
  24. Still, Barry is really comfy to sleep on.  And he’s uber chill about anyone and everyone just falling asleep on top of him at some point.
  25. Including Oliver Queen, not that Oliver would ever admit it.
  26. Jesse is a champion ping pong player.  Pity the poor speedsters who challenge her for the title.
Drabble Request - I Choose You

@keepalydsonit​ Oh darling! This is like the sweetest combo of prompts! How did you ever find my blog, you precious fluffster! I’m sorry I have been torturing you with angst until now! Hopefully this drabble delivers for you. It might be the fluffiest fluff to ever fluff and that’s not my usual M.O. haha but I love you, so here you go! Hopefully it’s ok!

Prompt: Hi!!!! Can I have drabble for Bucky with 11, 24, 40, and 84 please? Thank you so much!

11: “Be my wife.”

24: “Did I just say that out loud?”

40: “Don’t you dare throw that snowba-, goddammit!”

84: “I choose you.”

Warnings: none! Are you kidding? Loooook at those fluff prompts! Ok swearing I guess, but super mild. Your teeth might fall out because this is 100% sugar and has 0 bite at all.

Word Count: 1007

Be my wife.” Bucky murmurs, slipping strong arms around your waist, drawing you close against him. You don’t even try to suppress the wide grin pulling at your lips at the feel of your back pressed to his warm body. You stir the hot cider on the stove, adding warm spices like cinnamon and nutmeg that reminded you of something safe. Home. Bucky.

He takes in a deep breath over your shoulder. Your scent mixing with the warmth of the pot of liquid is intoxicating to him. He nuzzles into your neck and drags his nose from your shoulder up to that spot just below your ear that he knows will make you shiver. “God, you’re perfect.” His hands dip lower, resting on your hips.

You still feel tired from the night before, not quite up to this challenge. Again. “Bucky…” his name is just a sigh on your lips. You drop your head back onto his shoulder, hoping he’ll recognize your exhaustion. “I already am.”

“Hmm?” he hums in your ear, clearly distracted, as you turn off the stove and spin on your toes to face him. His hands glide easily over your hips to settle on the small of your back.

“I already am your wife,” you repeat, wrapping your fingers in the long soft hair behind his head and pulling him closer for a soft, quick kiss.

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Text Me Not

A/N: So this is my first time writing for Nalu Love Fest! Or anything that was organized lol. This is for Day 7: Sexting, and was super fun to write! This is fairly smutty, though more low-key than usual. But still, smut. College AU!

When the picture loaded, Lucy was glad she was at the back as her face turned into a tomato and she let out a tiny squeak. There on her screen was a picture of Natsu, shirtless and laying on her bed. One arm was tucked behind his head of wild pink hair, a lazy and devilish smirk playing on his lips. The same hooded eyes Lucy had daydreamed about earlier were present, seeming to somehow look at her soul through the screen. He was wearing sweatpants, which were pulling dangerously low and drawing her eyes to muscular and toned chest and stomach. Lucy’s fingers twitched slightly as she remembered how his tan skin moved beneath her fingers, the muscles shifting and flexing in response to her exploring hands. When Lucy finally tore her eyes away from his little display, she saw he had sent a text as well.

N- Still don’t want to play with me?

Pairing: Nalu, Fairy tail

Words: 4841

Rating: M

Part: Oneshot

Lucy sat in her desk, one hand propping up her chin and the other absentmindedly tapping a pencil on her small, university desk. You’d think with how much they charge for tuition they could afford bigger personal desks. Lucy sighed, looking to the people on either side of her. A boy to her right with black hair spiked into a messy look was leaned back in his seat, earbuds in and seemingly trying to count the number of tiles on the ceiling. Either that or he was muttering to himself, which wasn’t entirely impossible. The girl to her left was trying to focus on the dull lecture the professor had broken into, but there just seemed to be a random pattern of scribbles on the side of her lined paper. More than Lucy had written down anyway. Lucy looked down to the front of the room, grateful she had found a desk in the back. The room was full of students like herself, trying unsuccessfully to pay attention to his speech, the monotone lesson on feminism in Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein already claiming a number of students as victims to it’s sleep inducing drone. As least at the back she wouldn’t disturb anyone with her snoring.

Lucy’s phone gave a soft buzz, startling her from nearly dozing off. She really needed to be paying attention, regardless of the fact that she had already chosen the book as her main report subject, and had already read, re-read, and analyzed every line in the damn book. Releasing a loud sigh, Lucy hit the home button and her lock screen lit up, showing a text message with the name Natsu Dragneel above it. Quickly unlocking her phone, Lucy read the short text and rolled her eyes at her boyfriend’s whining.

N- Luuccyyyyy I’m bored

Quickly tapping a reply Lucy relocked her phone, barely setting it on the desk before it buzzed again.

L- And I’m in class

N- Come hooooommeeeee :D

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snow days as a kid

Waking up hearing the tranquil silence outside, rushing to the living room sofa to watch the flakes falling at the window, knowing there’d be no school if this was a weekday, putting on layers upon layers of clothing, opening the back door and feeling the rush of freezing wind on your face, making as few steps as possible so as to not mess up the perfect layer of snow on the ground, makeshift sleds, chasing the dog, snowmen that were essentially just one mound of snow, breaking off an icicle and keeping it in the freezer for months, coming inside to homemade vegetable soup

Nobody (Part 4)

Plot:  Reader has been held prisoner by Hydra and is discovered by Nat and Bucky.  Post CA:CW (Bucky’s on the team, no one hates each other) Slight AU

Warnings: I think just a few curses in this one

Words: 2633-ish 

A/N: I have a hard time writing Bucky.  Hope it’s okay :/ 

Bucky’s POV

One moment Bucky was running with a living skeleton on his shoulder and the next he was laying on his back in a mound of snow, completely winded; his gun and the girl had skittered away.  The Hydra thug who had tackled him loomed over his head and aimed a kick at ribs. Bucky rolled the side and blocked the blow away with his metal arm.  The thug groaned as his shin collided with vibaranium.  Taking the man’s distraction to his advantage Bucky hopped to his feet and hit him with a bone crunching front kick to the chest.  The thug crumpled to his knees and with a furious whirr of his arm, Bucky swung back and cracked the man across the jaw.  The impact sent several teeth flying and the Hydra agent was out cold before his face hit the snow.

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Robert Capa     Ernest Hemingway Just Prior to the Battle of Teruel During the Spanish Civil War      1937

The dead sleep cold in Spain tonight. Snow blows through the olive groves, sifting against the tree roots. Snow drifts over the mounds with small headboards. (When there was time for headboards.) The olive trees are thin in the cold wind because their lower branches were once cut to cover tanks, and the dead sleep cold in the small hills above the Jarama River. It was cold that February when they died there and since then the dead have not noticed the changes of the seasons.

It is two years now since the Lincoln Battalion held for four and a half months along the heights of the Jarama, and the first American dead have been a part of the earth of Spain for a long time now.

The dead sleep cold in Spain tonight and they will sleep cold all this winter as the earth sleeps with them. But in the spring the rain will come to make the earth kind again. The wind will blow soft over the hills from the south. The black trees will come to life with small green leaves, and there will be blossoms on the apple trees along the Jarama River. This spring the dead will feel the earth beginning to live again.

For our dead are a part of the earth of Spain now and the earth of Spain can never die. Each winter it will seem to die and each spring it will come alive again. Our dead will live with it forever.

Just as the earth can never die, neither will those who have ever been free return to slavery. The peasants who work the earth where our dead lie know what these dead died for. There was time during the war for them to learn these things, and there is forever for them to remember them in.

Our dead live in the hearts and the minds of the Spanish peasants, of the Spanish workers, of all the good simple honest people who believed in and fought for the Spanish republic. And as long as our dead live in the Spanish earth, and they will live as long as the earth lives, no system of tyranny will ever prevail in Spain.

The fascists may spread over the land, blasting their way with weight of metal brought from other countries. They may advance aided by traitors and by cowards. They may destroy cities and villages and try to hold the people in slavery. But you cannot hold any people in slavery.

The Spanish people will rise again as they have always risen before against tyranny.

The dead do not need to rise. They are a part of the earth now and the earth can never be conquered. For the earth endureth forever. It will outlive all systems of tyranny.

Those who have entered it honorably, and no men ever entered earth more honorably than those who died in Spain, already have achieved immortality.

–Ernest Hemingway, “On the American Dead in Spain"  1939

Chilaquiles for Two.

Happy Valentine’s Day @blackcanarydinah! I had so much fun writing up your prompt and bugging you weekly, I hope you enjoy and have a wonderful day!! :D Sorry for posting this so early (7AM est) Gotta hop off to work and didn’t want you to wait ‘til I was home! ENJOY!

Her prompt: anything as long as its fluffy. I just want a fluffy fic that aggressively ignores the movie canon. 

Summary: Echo Base reminds them of home, not the one they’d come to find in each other, but the one’s from where they were born. Cassian from Fest and Jyn on Vallt. Their morning’s have finally become routine, until one morning Cassian wakes a little too hungry, and decides to share a piece of his past with Jyn.

Tags: AU - Everybody Lives, Fluff, Sharing a Bed, Established Relationship, Kissing/Neck Kisses, Cassian + Jyn actually don’t mind the cold of Hoth for once, Cassian is the best cook in the galaxy (Diego Luna said so, it’s canon).

Word Count: 2620 ——————————————- Read on AO3

If there was one thing about Hoth that Cassian enjoyed, it was how it reminded him of Fest.

There was a time in his life when that would have been a bad thing, the memories too dark and clouded with guilt to smile back upon. But twenty years had passed, and there were plenty more deeds to clutter his mind. With each passing day on Echo Base, new memories of his home world would flood his thoughts, his dreams — if he was lucky enough to have those. Hoth was icy, cold, and sparsely populated. The same could be said about Fest, at least the parts he remembered. There weren’t many children around on either, and the nights were long, only bearable by sharing body heat with another.

Cassian’s eyes were trained on the ceiling of their quarters, wide awake, Jyn’s steady breaths the only noise he could hear. Just like the morning before.

Alright, so maybe there were two things about Hoth that Cassian enjoyed.

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My Memory (Prologue)

Testing the Winter Sonata inspired Miraculous AU even though I should be asleep.

Fic Summary: Chat Noir, revealed to be Adrien Agreste, died in a building collapse at the age of seventeen. Twelve years later Marinette, engaged to be married, meets a man who looks exactly like Adrien. But is Felix Agreste really a different person? Or is there something more sinister at work—something that Marinette will do everything in her power to stop, no matter who it hurts? 

Part x | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | End

| Next |


That morning, Parisians woke up to a blanket of snow.

It was the kind of snow that had just the right consistency to be played in. Citizens flocked outdoors, turning parks into snowball battlefields, snowmen communities, and designated laughter areas. Even those who were inconvenienced by the weather couldn’t help but smile at the infectious happiness of their fellow man.

The snowy Champ de Mars in particular drew a large crowd. Most came to enjoy themselves. Some were there to take photos and videos of the snow-covered Eiffel Tower. And a few had come to see the spectacle of Paris’s resident superheroes, Ladybug and Chat Noir, frolic like children through the trees.

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If you look hard enough in that last gif it kinda looks like 10k is saying ’I love you’ and I think that’s beautiful. 

“So, that’s how it is?” he asked with a smirk. 

“That’s exactly how it is.” you retorted, hiding behind your mound of snow, already preparing more ice weapons with your hands. “I had four big brothers before this apocalypse bullshit, TK, I’m going to win this.” you whirled another snowball around and hit him right in the back of the head before you moved to another snot of ambush. You were hopping trees in the back yard of an abandoned house you found with your boyfriend. “I love you, TK.” you said tauntingly and he covered his head, knowing exactly what what was about to happen. You took the opportunity and another snowball flew from your hand and hit him right in the stomach. 

He groaned and doubled over, you started to worry you’d hit a little lower than you aimed when he came up smirking, a small and tightly packed snowball in his sling shot. He looked you right int he eyes and fired just above your head. “I love you too, babe.”

“Alright, I’m coming down. Hold your fire.” you ordered climbing back down to the lowest branch before you dropped out of your tree where 10k met you at the bottom. 

“I’m freezing.” you chattered. 

“We can go inside. I think our fire should be going by now.” 10k threw his arm around your shoulders and the two of you walked in the back door of the house. “Did we pack the food in your bag or mine?”

“Mine.” he picked up his bag from the floor and placed it on the counter beside the plates you pulled from the cabinet. He pulled you to him with the arm wrapped around your waist and he kissed your head. 

“Peanut butter, stale crackers, and a can of beans. My favorite.” you smiled sarcastically. “I really miss spaghetti.” 

“Yea me too.” his lips moved against your skin, sending shivers down your back as you rationed food for yourself and 10k, giving him a little more than you gave yourself. “You’ve gotta stop doing that.” he sighed, reaching around, holding your hand in his as he stood behind you and took over your body, moving the spoon into the jar to scoop out more peanut butter. 

The snow was still falling outside and you looked out the window with 10k before he pulled you away into the living room by the wood burning stove where, earlier, the two of you had pulled the old couch in front of the heat. You ate your peanut butter and beans and stale crackers, you drank you water and talked to 10k for hours. The two of you wandered around the house, going through the things there, looking for something to entertain yourselves with before you went back to the couch, empty handed. 

10k sat down and pulled you into him. He slowly leaned back and took you with him, laying you on top of his chest and wrapping his arms around you. “I love you, Y/N.” he told you softly, reaching up to push some hair behind your ear before he kissed you long and slow. “I love you so much.” 

“I love you too, Tommy.” you smiled, kissing him back. You closed your eyes as you rested your forehead against his and pretended for a minute it was your house and the world wasn’t in the pit, that he was forever yours and tomorrow was guaranteed. 

You spent the rest of the night pretending as 10k kept you warm inside his arms.You pretended there was a dog somewhere in the house that the two of you found together and named (dog name?). There was nothing in that world you knew for sure except that 10k was yours and you were his and there was nothing that would ever change that.

John Murphy Christmas Imagine: Frozen


Summary: Reader is out of the camp with her boyfriend Murphy. They find some ice skates and Murphy wants to try it. Reader is firstly recultan about it, but then they end up having a good time.

Word count: 1071

Originally posted by richard-harmon-gifs

“Come on, John,” I tapped my leg impatiently, “I don’t like it here at all.”

“Oh, don’t be so scared, Y/N,” Murphy smirked from the top of something that resembled a car, maybe a truck.

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RFA’s Snow Day (Pt. 5)


  • he was literally screaming about how the weather forecast said it would snow the day before, so now that it was actually snowing, you knew that you had no way to get out of it
  • he was jumping around like a kangaroo
  • within minutes of stepping outside, you were hit with a snow ball
  • “SEVEN!”
  • he couldn’t contain his laughter
  • the snowball war started immediately 
  • he was quick so you couldn’t get him (not even once) 
  • meanwhile you were hit just about EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. 
  • honestly, it was starting to get boring for you so you stopped fighting back 
  • after he threw his last one (which hit your head btw), you slumped to the floor 100% defeated 
  • oh my God MC, how can you be so bad at aiming???” he teased
  • but once his laughing fit was suppressed to a chuckle, he really looked at you, and when he did, his stomach dropped
  • you looked as if you were about to cry 
  • that’s just great saeyoung, now you’ve done it 
  • “oh no..  nononono. I’m so sorry MC, I didn’t mean to hurt you, are you okay?” he asked worriedly 
  • he kneeled down to check you for injuries and gave you a hug 
  • “I’m so-”
  • but before he could finish his sentence you stuffed mounds snow down his jacket
  • and so the game began once more
  • that night, both of you were feverish, sick and totally beat 
  • “at least we had fun” he said in a raspy voice
  • with a cute smile, he fell asleep and snuggled deeper into your arms 

More: Yoosung; Zen; Jaehee; Jumin

Masterpost: click here

Askbox/Requests: click here

An Unexpected Turn


Member: S. Coups
Genre: Suggestive
Word Count: 453

“That’s the ugliest snowman I’ve ever seen.” You teased as Seungcheol shoved the carrot in the three mounds of snow triumphantly.

“It’s…” Seungcheol paused, thinking up the right words, “Abstract!”

“It’s an insult to Picasso.” You added quickly as you noted the snowman already tilting to one side, ready to tip over. You weren’t exactly lying– the second lump of snow was much bigger than the first, Seungcheol couldn’t find a top hat so he used one of Woozi’s baseball caps that was too small for the snowman instead, and the sticks he used for arms were short and oddly shaped, making the “snowman” look like a contortionist.

Seungcheol puffed his cheeks out and trudged up closer to you through the heavy snow. It truly did feel like Christmas, the snow hadn’t let up for three days and the temperature was far below zero. Still, this morning, despite the icy conditions of the roads, Seungcheol still somehow made his way to your house and insisted on going outside. “Maybe that’s because you didn’t help me.” Seungcheol mumbled, and before you could make up an excuse of your gloves being too thin or the snow being too tall Seungcheol had you pinned down in the fluffy snow. You thanked god you were wearing an obscene amount of layers because once he laid each of his knees on opposite sides of you to straddle you it became apparent that he was not planning on moving until he got what he wanted.

“You’ve been so naughty lately, haven’t you? Do you really think you’re in control here?” Seungcheol’s hot breath resinated on your neck and you could no longer tell if you were hot or cold, for your body was a bundle of fire, but the wind and the shivers sent down your spine told you something different. “I might just have to teach you a lesson right here, you would like that wouldn’t you? You would like it if I peeled back each and every one of those layers. We could make some snow angels together, but I don’t think what we’re doing would make the angels happy.”

Your eyes fluttered shut and your breath sped up as soon as you felt his cold teeth bite your earlobe. You really would have liked it if Seungcheol chose to take you right then and there, all for the neighbors to see (and that godawful snowman). However, Seungcheol never did what you expected and that was proved once again when he took a snowball he had been hiding behind back and teasingly pushed it down your jacket. You let out a surprised and annoyed scream and you quickly stood up to make a new snowball.