so not captain serious


Different press conference, same boredom.

Tony is Peter's Dad

Watched Spiderman homecoming and uh not really trying to prove anything to anyone idc if it’s confusing or not just as long as i get to post this cause like bruh

Ok but like that moment when Peter starts yelling at Tony at the end of the boat scene and he says, “If you actually cared you’d be here-!” And Tony just walks out of his Iron Man suit like not even flinching at the comment like did he just indirectly just say he cares about Peter cause that’s what I got out of it.

Also when he starts scolding Peter then stops mid way to say, “Great, I sound like my dad,” liike?? Um I’m sorry whaat??

Then at the end when Peter proves himself to Tony and he just throws an arm over his shoulder then just goes, “All you need was some tough love,” i’m soRRY WHAT I JUST OKYS AND HIS FACE WHEN PETER REJECTED HIS OFFER HE LOOKED HURT MAN

Tony is Peter’s dad and no one can say anything otherwise.

sildae  asked:

Pairings prompt: Well hell. All of them?? (Okay, okay. #2 Rexsoka.) (oh, you think I'm done...?)

Thank you for not going, “1-28. And 33-40.”

2. “Have you lost your damn mind!?”

The sharp, unstable shaking of the 501st flagship drowned out the emergency sirens wailing in each cabin and along every corridor, even for Ahsoka’s highly sensitive montrals. Admiral Yularen’s broadcast command of “Non-essential personnel, evacuate to the escape pods immediately,” was certainly lost to the complaints of a damaged ship. But it was impossible to mistake the strobing alert lights, flashing bright orange every ten meters and successfully conveying the immediacy of the situation well before the Separatist droids began trickling in.

Honestly, it was like a bad dream. No matter how many droids Ahsoka carved through, every new corridor brought her face-to-face with more. The task wouldn’t have felt so daunting if she wasn’t the only Jedi on the ship; whenever the Jedi Council had a special mission to complete these days, her master somehow ended up as one of the first candidates selected.

Clearly, the enemy didn’t know that, though. One of the fleet ships had already been destroyed by cannon fire, but the flagship was still intact, only periodically earning a volley of lasers. The amount of droids swarming the corridors felt like an invasion than anything else– what would they be there for except to capture Anakin, one of the most successful Repbulic generals? 

Ahsoka reached that conclusion before rounding a corner and running into a squad that pointed at her, shouting, “Look! We found a Jedi!” But that was all they managed to say before a couple rudimentary swings of her lightsaber decapitated all seven of them.

As much as the clones added a variety of color to the blaster fire breaking out in some corridors, Ahsoka was quick to order them to escape pods before they could be of much use. She sliced her way through roughly two enemy platoons alone to make it to the bridge where she found the officers still busily sending emergency transmissions, and locking down whole sections of the ship overrun by the Separatists in attempted containment.

Captain Rex was here guarding the bridge entrance with some of his men, blasters trained down the corridor as a last line of defense for all the unarmed and unarmored officers. That was the problem with the essential personnel: they were the hardest to move, both because they didn’t want to leave their post, and then once they did, the ship had roughly five to ten minutes left before neglected systems began malfunctioning.

“Admiral, you need to move to the escape pods!” Ahsoka shouted over the incessant whine; at least it sounded a little more muted on the bridge. Her announcement caused several heads to swivel, look at her, and return to their previous work. Yularen, though, was a little too wrapped up in a conversation with the coms officer to answer.

“What about you, Commander?” Rex asked from the doorway.

For the first time since the alarms started blaring, Ahsoka’s lightsabers hung on her belt again. “I’ll lead the droids into the hangar bay and try to buy you time to get away. Once I’m there, I’ll shut off the magnetic shields.”

Rex’s visor whipped around faster than Yularen. “Have you lost your damn mind?!

A gray-clad officer shouted that the engines were failing, and more droids were closing in on the bridge.

“Sir, now is not the time for insane heroics!” argued Rex, deeces dropping from a corridor that had lost his attention. 

A frown bent her mouth for only a moment. Rex never contested Anakin’s ideas, even while they seemed to get more farfetched as the war dragged on. If anything, Rex met most suggestions with hesitant approval– not outright challenges as he did with her.

“I know what I’m doing,” she told Rex evenly, nearing him as if proximity would help better convince him. “I’ll be fine.” And before he could disagree, contending her rank with his experience as she knew he would, Ahsoka pulled him down into a light headbutt that stalled all conversation.

Releasing her captain, she glanced back at Yularen to see she finally had his attention. “I’ll take out what droids I can, Admiral, but you have to leave now!”

Ahsoka took off sprinting away from the bridge, lightsabers once again humming at her sides. Every B1 battle droid she came across barely managed to report, “There’s the Jedi!” before its head flew right off its body in one quick slash of a lightsaber.

Halfway to the main hangar, she also heard, “General Grievous wants her alive!” Unfortunately, that droid also met a swift end before it could elaborate. Two corridors later, the familiar premonition of incoming fire tugged at the periphery of her senses. Ahsoka pivoted just in time to divert the laser bolt– but she’d expected a B1 shot, not a B2. The force of it still knocked her off her feet and straight into a wall.

The wailing sirens were all but white noise now, drowning out every other sound around her. Ahsoka only realized the enemy was closing in when she opened her eyes to see a line of B1s fencing her in, aiming their weapons on her crumpled form. She closed her eyes again and inhaled. Reaching out, she felt the familiar presence of the Force, directly around her, directly around the enemy, permeating the corridor, the level, the ship. And she pushed out. 

The nearest battle droids flew back as if from an explosion; the successive rows of B1s and B2s fell like dominos. Ahsoka popped to her feet and continued on her mad sprint down the hall. Her lightsabers were more useful behind her, blocking red laser bolts flying from the constantly growing horde following her. WIth as much as the flagship shook from increasing enemy fire, it was a wonder so many clankers stayed on their feet. The few droids she bumped into trying to cut her off from adjacent hallways ended up littering the floor while Ahsoka hardly even slowed her pace. 

R7-A7, Ahsoka’s astromech since she landed in the 501st, already sat snugly in her Eta-2 Actis-class interceptor by the time Ahsoka slid into the hangar bay. Only a couple LAAT/i populated the bay now, as the rest of the gunships and every fighter pilot were already occupied in the space battle. 

The controls for the magnetic shield– barring the bay enjoying its life support from open space– were set into a recess in the durasteel wall on the opposite end of the bay and protected by a ray shield. Ahsoka hadn’t even reached the halfway point before the enemy fire caught up to her as the droids filtered into the hangar. Thank the Force they were terrible shots. 

“Arseven!” Ahsoka shouted into her wristcom. She was met with happy bleeps. “Bring the ship over here; I’m going to need a fast getaway.”

She heard the welcome roar of her interceptor powering on across the hangar floor. A handful of droids pivoted and began firing at the ship, as Ahsoka skidded into the far wall. The ray shield, no bigger than a standard doorway, stood next to a screen of buttons. Ahsoka input the code she never thought she’d have to use; the ray shield blinked off, and all that was left was the clunky lever, about as big as Ahsoka’s head. 

R7-A7 blocked all enemy fire descending in the interceptor next to Ahsoka, and she immediately hopped into her seat. She sealed the cockpit, diverted more power to shields, and warned her astromech to be ready to take off. 

Ahsoka closed her eyes once more, trying to keep her nerves calm in a ship barraged by enemy fire. She focused her attention into grasping hold of the Force around the lever and pulling it down. The nearing enemy only helped raise her anxiety, but just as a B1 started climbing onto the wing of the ship, the lever swung down, the magnetic shield disappeared, and everything not bolted to the ground slipped toward the open hangar doors. 

After the initial moment of free floating, Ahsoka returned the recommended amount of power to the engines and steered her ship out into space, avoiding the floating droids and lazily spinning gunships. 

The danger was nearly over now. A second fleet had come to the rescue, sliding out of hyperspace behind the Separatist ships, diverting all their attention and leaving Ahsoka free to look for her men.

“Arseven,” Ahsoka said, rolling her interceptor over the port side of the damaged flagship and scanning the void for life signs, “switch to the pod frequency.”

R7 chirped, the coms crackled, and soon her cockpit flooded with the voices of very chatty soldiers. Immediately after their accountability checks, the conversations strayed. Ahsoka’s attention focused more on locating the wandering pods until a certain comment caught her montrals.

“…and Captain Rex got kissed by the commander.” A mixture of laughter and incredulous noises followed before the first amended, “A Keldabe kiss.”

“You coulda told me it was a real kiss and I’da believed you,” a second said. The laughter roared anew.

“WHO IS THIS?” a third voice broke in. “NAME AND RANK.”  

A tense silence followed until one brave soul declared, “Found the Captain.” The next wave of laughter surged from numerous pods as Rex raged on, threatening blindly.

Ahsoka patched her own frequency into the conversation then. “Wait… what’s a Keldabe kiss?” Her distinctively female voice cut through the clone chatter with surprising ease. All communication immediately dissipated into an awkward silence Ahsoka felt even in her own ship.


Our True Love - Chapter 13

A/N: Thank you so much for my new followers. I really am happy to see you guys enjoying my story. We are nearing the end of this series, but I will post more stories in the future. No worries! Without any further ado, enjoy.~ (Sorry in advance for any grammatical errors in my stories!)

Previous Chapter(s): Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: Sweet, angst and smooch (huehue)
Word count: 3,818
Summary: Reader and Bucky doesn’t get along well after his marriage to Rosaline. Will her friendship with Bucky last or will they crumble and fade?

★ ★ ★

“So I did sign up for the yoga class. When I get into my second trimester, I’ll start it.” Sharon says happily.

I smile, watching the way Sharon is placing her hand on her stomach. She is so bright and happy. She is practically shining. Steve places the plate of chocolate cake in front of her.

“Thank you, darling.” She says as she gives him a quick sweet kiss.

It was such a wonderful news to hear she was pregnant. Both Steve and I received the news over text on that night. I was vibrating with excitement when I got the news. But Steve was restless. It took me all of that night to calm Steve down. He was so surprised and happy but he wanted to go home to her immediately. Watching Steve panic like that helped me tone down my reaction.

He didn’t stop saying how he was so excited that he finally is having a child. He was like a little kid who found out he’s getting a puppy for Christmas. Steve is clearly happier than he had ever been. Not so much of that Captain Steven Rogers who was serious all the time. Even during the meetings he jokes around with the people around the table.

For the rest of that week, Steve’s happiness was contagious. Even I couldn’t stop feeling happy for both of them.

Though, that happiness slightly faded when I did tell Steve about the man. He had security guard over my room for the rest of the week and he stays close to me when we’re out in public. Thankfully, I never saw the man again. It probably was just a coincidence, but we were extra careful nonetheless.

After we flew back home, Steve begged me to visit a cake shop to buy Sharon’s favourite chocolate cake. I was driving my car since I parked it at the airport when we left for Canada, that’s why he begged me. It was so funny and sweet at the same time.

I have yet to contact Bucky or Rosaline when I landed. I’m a little worried to hear how Bucky and Rosaline are doing right now. I hope everything is all right.

“I’m so happy that you visited, Y/N. I know you are tired from the trip. You both are.” Sharon says gleefully before exchanging looks with Steve. I laugh. Her happiness is just as contagious.

“Of course. I had to come and see for myself. Did Natasha give the baby a name while we were away?” Sharon laugh while rubbing her belly again.

“She did. She was the first one to visit with Clint. She wanted a little Natasha too.” She exclaims excitedly. Steve shifts a little on his seat.

“Not sure about that. We’ll see.” Steve says, rubbing the edge of the sofa. I smile, watching the happy couple together.

This is what Bucky and Rosaline would be like one day when they too have a child together. Will he be as happy as Steve too when Rosaline gets pregnant? I imagined a scene of Bucky sitting on the floor, pressing his ear against Rosaline’s stomach, waiting for his child to come into the world.

The image made my stomach twist and chest tighten, but oddly enough, I feel at peace. I suppose in the back of my mind, I just wanted to see Bucky truly happy. And, finally having that family he always wanted is a way to make him happy.

“Maybe a baby Steve Jr. could be too.” Sharon says again while looking at Steve. He laughs while shaking his head. Such a hearty laughter. The doorbell rings. Steve looks over at the front door before heading up to answer it.

“I can’t wait. You would make such an excellent mother, Sharon.” I say, imagining Sharon holding the baby close to her breast while Steve hovers above her shoulder, watching his own child with the woman he loves.

“Hopefully, we’ll find out soon.” She says while looking down at her hand. I smile sincerely while watching her. Such a wonderful thing. Both Steve and Bucky had been late on the family bandwagon. But now that they are on it, I can’t help but feel overjoyed for both of them.

“Oh… Y/N, did you hear about—”

“Sharon, Bucky is here.” Steve calls out from behind me, cutting her off. Shivers crawl up my spine at the mention of his name. I turn around to look at him over the back of the couch. My eyes widen at the sight. Bucky is standing in the doorway, taking his shoes off and brushing the snow off them.

“Oh, hey Bucky. How are you?” Sharon gets up, looking over at him. Bucky runs his hands through his hair. There were little snowflakes on them.

“I’m fine.” He says simply without looking up.

“I was wondering if I can crash here for a couple of nights.” He continues, still not noticing my presence. His voice had brought back life back into my heart. How I missed him after all this time. I was happy to see him again.

But that followed by a sense of anger. Anger that he never tried contacting me.

“Of course, you’re welcome to anytime. Y/N is here too.” Steve says finally gesturing to me. Bucky shoots his head up to look at me. I stand up from the couch. I can see the fear and shock in his eyes. Now that we made eye contact, I’m debating on whether to murder him or to hug him.

I stare at him quietly. He looks away from me and go up the stairs without saying anything else. I look at him surprised. He’s purposefully ignoring me? What is going on? I thought he’d apologize and give me a reason for the no contact. But… to just walk away without saying a word to me? How could he?

Steve rests a hand on my shoulder.

“Go and talk to him.” He says. I look up at the stairs, clenching my fists. I feel the tears coming from the pain in my chest. Should I? What am I going to say anyways? What am I supposed to feel when I do see him?

“He needs you.” I look at him and sigh out. I blink away the tears.

“But you told me that I need to stay out of their business.” I say, reminding Steve.

“Right now, it’s not about their marriage. It’s about Bucky. He needs you after so long of not seeing you.” I blink before shifting my glance to the stairs where Bucky disappeared.

So am I supposed to just ignore this burning anger and painful sadness within my chest all because apparently Bucky is the one hurting right now? What about my pain? Why did he ignore me anyways?

…I suppose I need the answer for myself.

I nod slowly before making my way up to the room. I didn’t know where he was, but there was one door that is closed. Inside, I hear the creaking of a wooden bed.

What should I even say to him? I’m angry at him for not talking to me for over a month. Upset that he didn’t even say anything when he saw me. Did he forget about me again? Is his memories of me fading away once more?

But this time, it was Bucky who is pushing me away. What is he doing?

I knock on the door gently.

“Bucky?” No answer. I knock again, harder this time.

“Bucky, it’s me.” I call out, trying so hard to keep myself from exploding in anger at him. No answer. I take a deep breath. Okay, calm yourself. I know you are angry, Y/N, but Bucky needs a friend right now.

I sigh out and reach down for the door knob to twist it open. The room is dark with only the street lamp lighting inside the room. I walk in and shut the door behind me, watching Bucky’s figure on the bed. I bite my lower lip, leaning against the door.

“Bucky, talk to me.” I say to him softly, still leaning on the door. I can still feel the anger hovering underneath my skin. He just lies there, not moving a muscle. His arm is covering his eyes. His duffel bag rests next to the bed.

“Bucky, what happened this time?” I ask him, approaching the bed. I stand inches away from it, still waiting for any kind of response. When he didn’t say anything, I can feel the anger slowly taking over my better judgement.

“Bucky, before I lose my cool with you, you better say something to me.” I say darkly. I see him peek over at me. I had my arms crossed over my chest.

“Go home, Y/N.” He says before turning on his side. So cold and heartless.

I open my mouth while blinking. The nerve! Oh, did that make my blood boil. It felt as though he had shoved me hard to the ground again. But I wasn’t just going to stay down on that cold hard ground. I lost my temper and kicked him off the bed. Literally.

He crashes onto the floor with a loud thud. He sits up and rubbing his sore forehead. He looks at me angrily. I had momentarily forgotten this was once a feared and merciless HYDRA assassin. But I pushed the thought aside, still not forgetting my anger towards him. Right now, both of us are normal human beings with a thinning bond trying to make things work again.

“You leave me hanging for over a month; no calls, no texts, nothing! Then you have the nerve to say ‘go home’ to me??” I shout at him. He turns his head away to look at the window.

“Nothing?? What’s wrong with you?! Do you know how worried I got??” I shout again, feeling the tears well up in my eyes. His sigh sounds painful in my ears.

“I don’t need to hear you yelling at me, Y/N.” I clench my fists together. I open my mouth to say more, but then I remembered what Steve said to me just now.

“He needs you.”

I bite my tongue and take a deep breath. Trying to exhale out that pent up anger I have towards him. I can be mad at him another day. He is hurting right now.

“Fine. Let’s talk about your marriage.” I start, pushing away all of my emotions aside. Bucky doesn’t even move from the spot on that floor. Silence passing between us again. I clear my throat.

“Steve said that you both had a fall out again. Is it your memories again or another issue?” I ask him. No response. My anger rattling the cage inside of me.

“Bucky, I can’t help you sort out your mind if you don’t want to talk to me.” That, got his attention. He turns his head slowly towards me. I catch a glimpse of his blue eyes before turning to look ahead.

“Right now, you need to tell me what happened. Did she do something? Did you do something?” I ask him, keeping my eyes on the closet ahead of us.

“Why do you care?” He says. I look at him, still displaying no emotion.

“Because, I want you both to be happy. I want things to work out well for you both. So things are well in the future…” I trail off. My mind imagines that scene of Bucky holding his child in his arms with Rosaline. It felt like an arrow just shot through my heart. I clear my throat.

“…in the future together. You said you wanted a family, didn’t you?” I continue. Bucky scoffs, running his hand through his hair.

“No point in doing that. It doesn’t matter anymore.” His defeat voice loud and clear. I reach down to grab him by his shirt. He looks at me, surprised.  I couldn’t lift him up, but I wanted to get his attention at the least.

“Listen to me. I don’t like seeing you in pain. I want to see you happy with Rosaline. You both are in love, aren’t you?” I ask him, staring deep into his blue eyes. Something I said made him angrier.

“What do you know about pain, Y/N?” He asks. I let his shirt loose as I back away a little. His anger staring out at me through his eyes.

“What do you know about love?” He asks again. I blink several times.

My mind spins back to that night at the park. Did he forget about that too?

“I know enough.” I answer. He scoffs again before getting up on his feet.

“You know nothing about pain. You know nothing what it means to truly love someone. You don’t care about what others think. Just what you think.” He says. That stung me. That stung me real bad.

“I can manage on my own. Always have.” He answers. The memories of our nights spent together shatters within my mind.

“Go back home. You’re not needed.”

My voice was gone. My mind was blank. My chest… hollow.

I take the pillow from the bed and throw it towards him with all of my heart without even thinking. He exclaims in pain and looks over at me. His eyes widen. Tears were streaming down my face. My body was shaking.

“What do I know? Yeah, maybe I don’t know much about pain. Or about love. But I do know the pain of losing love.” I laugh a little. I’ve been so foolish.

“Those nights… the nights when you held my hand, knowing that if I hold yours back it means you’re not alone. I stood up with you so you won’t need to feel afraid. I hold you in my arms when you lost it from your nightmares. If those were not done out of love, then what were they, Bucky?” I bring up those memories again. I hear Bucky backing away.

I laugh to myself again. I’m tired. I’m done now. I can’t win against his mind. If he keeps on forgetting our times together, then I have no point in keeping my promise that I’ll be here for him. The fights we had before were pointless.

“Who’s really the one that doesn’t know love here?” I say quietly as I wipe the tears away, but they just keep coming.

Keep faith in him. His memories will return. Have I just been fooling myself to believe in the words he said? He doesn’t remember me if I’m not there with him. So why do I still believe in what he says when there has been so many times that he forgotten about us? If he keeps pushing me away like that, then why do I need to chase after him?

I look up at him to see if he has anything to say. I let out a small gasp. Bucky’s face had changed. He looks so pale. He holds his hand to his head and backed into the wall. He lets out a small groan.

“God, I have a splitting headache.” He says while holding his head.

I didn’t move for a minute. I watch his body shiver. I finally approach him when I finished crying. Without a word, I helped him up and let him lean on me as I lead him to the bed.

I’m torn between being a friend and an enemy of this guy. I don’t know what to do about my own emotions anymore. I can’t stay mad at him without him having these moments. I can’t stay sad without him making me feel guilty about it. Am I not my own person anymore? Why can’t I just leave him? He’s said enough things to make me leave him for good.

He lies down on the bed, holding his hand over his eyes. I watch him carefully. His lips are quivering and his body is still shaking. Why do I choose to stay with him anyways? What kind of hope am I holding on right now for us? The only thing binding us together is our past. But if I’m the only one that remembers of our past, isn’t that bond long broken then? Why am I fighting to keep it?

Why am I doing any of this?

“I’ll go get you a drink.” I say weakly. When I get up, I feel his metal hand tugging on my arm. I look at him surprised. His right hand still over his eyes.

“Please don’t leave me…” He pleads. I watch him closely before sitting myself back onto the bed. His memories coming in and out like this, it is no longer a surprise for me.

How am I going to help him if he can’t even think properly? Or even how am I able to stay mad at him if he doesn’t feel like his brain is going to explode?

“Are you okay?” I ask him. I brush the hair away from his face.

He doesn’t respond. But his metal hand finds its way down from my arm to my hand. He holds it tightly. A sense of nostalgia. The same hand that always seek mine after his painful nightmares.

“Y/N…” He whispers my name. A small tear escapes his eyes. I gasp.

“Bucky?” I lean over him, placing my other hand on his arm. I pull it away from his face. His eyes are closed shut, but it was a little wet.

“Damn. Why do my memories of you always come back only when you’re around?” He says.

I look at him within the dimly lit room. Out of nowhere, he sits up and pulling me into a tight embrace. My heart jumps at the sudden gesture. I widen my eyes while looking at him.

“I can never trust my own mind after all…” His voice shaking and broken. I place my hands against his waist.

“Bucky?” I call out softly to him.

This brings me back to the nights when he’d sit up from a nightmare and right into my embrace. Then he’d hold me so tightly that I was left with red marks underneath my shirt the next morning.

My mind is blank. What am I supposed to do right now? Am I not still furious at him for the things he said just now? But all I could feel right now is defeat and pain. I couldn’t feel anything else. Though, this sudden embrace did spark something back within me.

He pulls himself away from me, watching me carefully with his tender blue eyes. He brings his hands to cup both of my cheeks, eyes lingering around my face. I hold the wrist of his metal arm while doing the same to him. Examining every feature of his face. The gorgeous features that I always adore watching for nights on end.

The lines on his forehead, the darkness underneath his eyes, the growing stubble: all had been the same ones I had seen countless times. Then his eyes. His blue eyes showing the very emotions he felt during those fearful nights.

“Bucky?” I say quietly. What is he thinki—  

The response I received was his lips against mine. It had taken me by surprised. But I closed my eyes, letting myself melt into it. His lips dances around on mine, oh, so gently. The warmth and roughness of them pouring back the love I have been trying so hard to forget into my heart. His hand moves down to my waist while mine move up to his cheek to pull him deeper into the kiss.

I memorize every inch of his lips against mine. Tasting it. Feeling it. Enjoying it. He pulls me into his body, keeping me tightly against him as we engage in the passionate kiss. I pull away for a moment to breathe in, but he was impatient. He presses his lips against mine again quickly, kissing me as though his life depended on it.

He moves his lips down to my jawline and neck. He whispers my name against my neck. Leaving tender kisses down against my skin. My insides shiver at the sensation of his lips and loose hair brushing against my sensitive skin. I run my fingers through his hair, slowly getting lost in Bucky’s passion.

His metal hand tangled in my hair as he pulls my head to the side to have more access to my neck. His flesh hand holding my waist down against him, keeping me from moving anywhere. I moan out from the way his lips run along my neck. My body shivers in delight at his gentle yet needy touch.

Is this what it feels like? Is this what love truly feels like? Was this the love that I had been craving from Bucky this whole time? Is this what people do when they are in love with one and another?


My eyes flew open before I pull myself away from him in that instance. Bucky looks at me, surprised at my sudden move. The pain of my heartbreak returning so quickly that it threw me off. I had forgotten all about her.

What is this? What did we just do?

“I…I’m sorry. I…” Bucky’s grip on me was tight. I try to pry myself away from him, but his grip was too strong.

“P…Please let me go. I can’t. We can’t do this, Bucky.” I pleaded with him, feeling the tears threatening me again. What have I done?

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” He asks, looking at me. I shake my head. He finally loosens his grip on me. I stumble onto the floor and get back up on my feet.

“T…This is wrong. So wrong…” I say as I tore my own heart open this time. I had enjoyed the way Bucky held me. The way he looked at me. The way he kissed me. But, he doesn’t belong to me. He belongs to someone else.

I take one last look at Bucky. His eyes showing a mix of confusion and pain. I finally let more tears loose. Without another word, I run out of the room. I scramble down the stairs past Steve and Sharon.


Steve calls out to me, but I had left out the door to my car. I drive home immediately.

My head and chest feels tight. I felt guilty, hurt and used from Bucky’s kiss. Even though I enjoyed it, I felt horrible. I love Bucky and wouldn’t do anything to ruin his happiness. But there I was, in a dark room alone with another woman’s husband, kissing him. My world shift around as my heart fills with regret.

My intentions had been to help him seek that happiness he craves with the woman he loves, Rosaline.

Not to ruin it.

★ ★ ★

A/N: Ahhh! Mixed emotions! I enjoyed writing this chapter so much. I hope you enjoyed this and let me know what you think. Thank you again for all the likes, reblogs and follows, you guys. They truly make my day! Thank you so much for reading! Much love! <3

Next chapter coming soon!

P/S: If you’d like to be tagged in the next chapter, message me and let me know!

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At a relatively young age, Jonathan Toews already possessed an incredible shrinking bucket list. And at age 28, the captain of the Chicago Blackhawks was voted among the 100 Greatest NHL Players – quite the accomplishment for the all-purpose center.

But a look at his resume explains why:

Toews won the Stanley Cup with the Blackhawks in 2010, 2013 and 2015.

He earned a gold medal with Canada at the 2010 Vancouver Olympics and the 2014 Sochi Olympics.

In 2010, at age 22, he became the second-youngest player to win the Conn Smythe Trophy as playoff MVP. He had 29 points in 22 games.

In 2013, he was awarded the Selke Trophy, given to the NHL’s best defensive forward.

In 2015, he won the Mark Messier Leadership Award recognizing contributions to one’s team and community.

Prior to all of this, Toews was named captain of the Blackhawks on July 18, 2008, before his second season. He had played 64 NHL games. No player in League annals had been named captain faster.

Really now, what is left for this special talent?

“More Stanley Cups,” Toews said, matter-of-factly. “Winning is addictive.”

Entering the 2006 NHL Draft, the Blackhawks were in dire need of new blood and a new direction. They had qualified for the playoffs once since 1997, making an abrupt five-game exit in 2002, and fan interest had dipped precipitously throughout an Original Six market. In the words of no less an authority than chairman Rocky Wirtz, “We had become irrelevant.”

The Blackhawks could not afford to miss on the No. 3 pick. They knew of Toews’ decorated amateur career, first at Shattuck-St. Mary’s School in Minnesota, then at the University of North Dakota. They probably anticipated that his pedigree – in 2007 he would become the first Canadian to win gold at the World Junior Championship and World Championship in the same year, and did it as a second-year collegian – would bode well for his evolution as a professional on hockey’s greatest stage, the NHL. They might even have heard the story about how, when Jonathan was a tyke, he made a promise.

“He told me he was not only going to make it in the NHL,” said his father, Bryan. “He told me he was going to make it big and buy me a new truck.”

The Blackhawks did not miss. They studied the person and the statistics, but there was no guarantee that Jonathan Toews would point the franchise toward a golden era with his excellence and maturity. He made a quick impression, scoring on his first shot with the Blackhawks, against the San Jose Sharks on Oct. 10, 2007, and got a point in each of his first 10 games, then the second-best streak by any player to start an NHL career. Toews had 24 goals and 30 assists in 2007-08, his rookie season in Chicago, but it was more than that. It was his presence, the example he set, on the ice, in the locker room, on the bus.

“If I hadn’t seen Jonathan being born,” said his mother, Andree Gilbert, “I would swear he’s older.”

Teammates didn’t need to hear that parental praise. They merely observed the businesslike manner in which Toews prepared for his job and applied himself. Patrick Sharp, who won three Cup championships with Toews, called him “Mr. Serious.” Then Brent Seabrook, also fitted for three championship rings with the Blackhawks, acknowledged that Toews bore all the trappings and intangibles of a captain. So Seabrook updated the nickname to “Capt. Serious” and it caught on. Toews never warmed to it, but deduced correctly that the more he would debate the merits of such a label, the more serious he would seem.

“It stuck, I guess,” said Toews. “As far as leaders go, well, I happen to think we’ve had a lot of them on this team as we’ve learned how to win. It’s an honor to be captain of this team. But the ‘Serious’ part, I don’t know about that. It’s not like I never laugh.”

But Toews never takes a night off, and when your captain operates in such a way that every shift matters, the effort is contagious. Toews has the ability to be among the most productive players in the League, but his unselfishness and devotion to duty when opponents have the puck are paramount. When it’s about risk versus reward, Toews opts for the grunt work. He has what it takes to score 40 goals, but did not exceed 34 through nine full seasons. During that period, he had a rating of plus-187.

“All Jonathan Toews does is make everybody he plays with better,” Toronto Maple Leafs coach Mike Babcock said. Before he took over in Toronto, Babcock saw plenty of Toews as coach of the Detroit Red Wings, bitter rivals of the Blackhawks. Babcock also coached him with Canada in the 2010 and 2014 Olympics. It is noteworthy that, for the latter, Sidney Crosby was appointed captain. But before he accepted, Crosby sought to determine whether Toews would be at peace with the designation. Such is the degree of respect bestowed on Toews, who gladly served as an alternate.

For his play with the Blackhawks, Toews has received lavish praise from coach Joel Quenneville as the perfect link between management and labor.

“It makes it a lot easier to do what I do when you have No. 19 in the locker room,” Quenneville said. “You can’t teach what ‘Tazer’ brings to the table. When your best players go about their way like he does, it affects everybody else. Johnny is zero maintenance.”

Whereas Toews stands out for exemplary defensive and faceoff numbers, he is renowned for taking over a game when required. He is especially noticeable in the spring, as a clutch performer in playoffs. At the conclusion of the 2014-15 season, he had already amassed 10 game-winning playoff goals, second only in franchise history to a contemporary icon Patrick Kane’s 11. Through his first nine seasons, of Toews’ 251 goals, 51 were game-winners – third most in franchise history.

“Jonathan brings it every night,” said Scotty Bowman, a Hockey Hall of Fame coach and the Blackhawks senior adviser to hockey operations. “It’s one thing to have ability, but another to compete. You are not going to outcompete Toews. He plays in all situations. Power play, penalty kill, 5-on-5.

“He’s a big guy. You see him out of uniform. He’s strong and thick. But again, it’s another thing to use the body the way he uses it. He takes it to all the tough areas and makes sacrifices. He plays the entire rink. He’s got everybody’s respect, his own guys, guys throughout the league, coaches and general managers. He never causes problems and is a tremendous representative for the Blackhawks, the League and hockey. He carries himself well, speaks well. He even speaks French. He’s got it all.”

In Chicago, a city that has enjoyed its share of sports legends, Toews quickly became among the most admired and popular athletes ever. He dedicated countless hours and support to local causes, including The Kitchen Community, which builds learning gardens in Chicago to connect children with real food, increase academic achievement and encourage civic engagement.

In his native Winnipeg, Manitoba, where there is a lake named after him, Toews donated $1 million to the Dakota Community Centre, a facility that includes the 95,000 square foot Jonathan Toews Sportsplex, housing two indoor rinks, a gymnasium, nursery school, skate shop and strength training area.

For a big-name NHL player, Toews is not pretentious; when he brought the Stanley Cup to his hometown in 2010, he took a public bus to the parade.

“My parents have instilled in me the importance of giving back,” said Toews, captain during the most successful era in Blackhawks history. As a 20-something, he achieved iconic stature with the franchise, as did Bobby Hull and Stan Mikita, both of whom have monuments erected beside United Center.

Jonathan Toews is a statue waiting to happen.

—  Jonathan Toews: 100 Greatest NHL Players (Captained Blackhawks to three Stanley Cup titles, won Conn Smythe Trophy in 2010)

No Happy Endings

I once loved a girl
and she thought well of me
we thought we’d be happy together
but now I’m alone as you can well see
she’s cold in her grave forever

-”That’s Not How the Story Goes,” A Series of Unfortunate Events 

Word Count: 586

“You always station me away from Titans, have you noticed that?” Petra asks one night when they’re in his room as he’s reading over documents from Erwin. She’s here to give him tea like she normally does (although she disapproves of him drinking it so late at night since “the caffeine will keep you up and you already get so little sleep as it is”), setting down the teapot and two cups, one for him and one for her if she ends up staying to keep him company, onto his desk.

He avoids her gaze, pouring out a cup of tea for him and for her, and takes a sip. It’s strong and earthy, although it’s a tad too hot since he drank it hastily in order to avoid answering her right away. “Do I?” he finally responds. “Must be a coincidence.”

She wrinkles her nose at him and takes her own cup, taking a dainty sip herself. She leans against his desk instead of taking her usual seat on his bed. (“You don’t have anywhere else to sit,” she pointed out to him one time, leaving him to grudgingly allow her to just sit wherever the hell she wanted unless he give up his own chair for her.) “You don’t think I’d be able to handle myself on the field?”

He scoffs at the ridiculousness of the question. “You wouldn’t be on my squad if you couldn’t.”

“Hmm,” she says in reply, sipping more of her tea and pretending to be grumpy at his blunt tone. “I always thought Eren was going to be our special weapon – special Titan shifting powers and everything – but maybe it’s going to be me since you seem to like to keep me hidden. Are you perhaps saving my skills for something special?”

He isn’t, not really, but he does prefer to keep her from the more dangerous areas during expeditions although he’s reluctant to admit that it’s his affection for her. The way she dances around it, hinting that she probably – no, definitely – knows, makes him feel rather stupid though and he always finds himself stammering and fighting off a blush. “I can’t see how you could joke about something like that,” he grumbles.

“Captain Levi,” she sighs, “always so serious.”

“How can I not be when we’re getting eaten left and right every time we step outside of the Walls?”

“You could at least allow yourself a smile every once in a while. Maybe it’d look nice on you.” She ignores his scowl. “Our situation is grim but allowing yourself to laugh isn’t a bad thing. Is it terrible to dream that we might even have a chance at happy ending, Levi?”

He wants to ask what she means by “we.” Is it a general “we,” a “we” that encompasses all of the lives that lived in the Walls, or did she mean “we” as in him and her?

He never gets the chance to ask for a clarification. It’s either because he’s too scared or because she leaves far too soon, taking a glance at how much his candle has burnt and declaring that it was much too late for her to be occupying her captain’s time, but the affectionate glance that she graces him before she leaves hints that she might have meant the latter “we.”

But he’ll never know for sure.

anonymous asked:

I feel extremely insulted that people said Wonder Woman is a good movie because it's like a marvel movie. The audacity. It doesn't have stupid humor at the most frustrating times. When shit gets serious, it's serious. Steve Trevor is not a typical bro man thank god. It shows the consequences of war and such. Oh AND ITS A FEMALE SUPERHERO LEAD. It took marvel what 18 films first to have a female superhero solo lead? They can't have excuse for that long waiting since their movies are 'good'

Exactly. If it had been a Marvel film, the emphasis would have been on humor and making sure audiences never had to worry about things being too dramatic or serious. Since so many people are keen to mention Captain America, I’d argue that WW made an effort to show just how devastating war can for the average person while CA just glossed over it and WW was willing to hint at least at the true horror of war, the fact that it’s something men do for what are often incomprehensible reasons in hindsight, and it showed the gray morality in a more overt way than Captain America. There’s a throwaway line where one of the generals said most of the men don’t even know what They’re fighting for. That stood out to me, mostly because it’s entirely accurate in relation to WWI and other wars.

This isn’t a drag on Captain America. They’re easily my favorite films in the MCU. I’m just pointing out the differences in the approach.

I also once saw someone try to write off Iron Fist by saying it was like the DCEU. When Marvel fuck up, it’s DC’s fault. When DC win, it’s Marvel’s victory. That’s how Their mindset works. 

It’s nothing but people trying to downplay an accomplishment from the DCEU. Like I said, the anti crowd are even fucking worse when They try to give praise.

steven grant rogers literally is so GONE for sam wilson it’s astonishing. winter soldier opens with him bothering the fuck out of this cute runner in the gray sweats and ends with him looking at that same runner like he hung the moon and the stars in the sky


Title: Babylon
Ship: Daisuga
Characters: Suga nd Daichi
Warnings: None
Word Count: 900 ish
A/N: Written for @daisugaweek2017  - Day One - prompt  ‘Sneaking Out’
A/A/N: Title is from the David Gray song.
A/A/N: Haven’t quite decided if I’m linking all the prompts into one big story yet. Meanwhile have this ficlet.

Summary: While in Tokyo for Nationals, Suga and Daichi plan a small escape.

“You know we probably shouldn’t be doing this,” Daichi whispered.

Suga smirked. “Bit late to have cold feet when you’re hanging out of the window, Captain.”

“We could go back in, that’s all I’m saying.”

For a moment, Suga, waiting on the ledge, thought Daichi was about to change his mind. Certainly, he’d begun to strain his arms as if he were about to heave himself back through the window and into the dorm. But just when Suga was about to sigh and forget the plan they’d made, a sliver of light reached them. Light from the hallway as the dorm door was opened, a torch flickered around the room and then a ‘Yeah, they’re all asleep, sensei. Game sure wore them out’ call by their coach.

“We’ve got away with it,” Suga whispered. “So if we leave the window open, just a little, we can sneak back in easily.”

Daichi chewed the side of his mouth.

“Oh, come on, Daichi. We’re in Tokyo. Let’s have an hour, just one hour!”

He didn’t budge.

“Asahi will let us back in.”

“Unless he sleeps through.”

“Ennoshita, then. He’s on constant alert.”

“For the second and first years, yes. Not rebellious third years – especially not the captain,” Daichi retorted, looking stern.

And he looked so serious and responsible and adult, that Suga couldn’t stop the gurgle of laughter in his throat. Blowing him a kiss, he slithered off the sill and flopped to the ground below.  “Well, I’m going to explore, and as I’m notoriously unreliable,” he mocked, reminding Daichi of the conversation when they’d first arrived, “then it’s your duty to rein me back in, O Captain!”

“Ha!” Daichi leapt down to him, reached across and tugged Suga’s scarf, gently reeling him close. “I didn’t say unreliable. I just said you’re more likely to encourage mischief.” He pecked a kiss on Suga’s cold nose, muffled him further up in the scarf, and then released him, stuffing his hands in his thick jacket pockets. “Come on, where are we going?”

Keep reading

foxymaple  asked:

How did diachi set off the fire alarm? Or when did it happen? I've heard of it before but I can't remember! Also your art is wonderful and gives me life don't stop never stop

It’s from this wonderful wonderful panel here!

Local serious captain confirmed for actual lovable dork


“John Frusciante quit the Red Hots in Japan, a place he dislikes, and has gone completely insane as happened on their trip 2 years before. This time feeling no more insane than he had been for the last year on the road, he left the band with no real reason, but they and he live in some very un-real places. As far as he was concerned he was just doing what he had decided to do a year earlier at which time there really wouldn’t have been any clear verbal reason for which reason he felt that even if he quit, the band would not grant him this. His lack of any reason other than a bad feeling about how the road would affect would have been shown to be compared to how well the band communication and magic was going and they simply would not have let him quit, he feared. By the time he quit the solidarity of the band had been long ago fucked up. When he returned from they he spent one month laying on a couch unable to listen to music, read books, paint, draw, or even look at –burnt spot- of pictures. Activities which were all he ever did normally, for a reason unknown to anyone around him, he said were too painful. He also said he quit playing guitar. Once he finally became –burnt spot- waiting for someone –burnt spot- he began listening to any his favorite music (Bowie, Captain Beefheart, a few others). He became so serious about painting and drawing that he was now –burnt spot- emerged in that and spent about one year doing that, literally 2+ hrs a day, falling asleep every 3 days or so with his face on freshly painted canvas and waking up a few hrs later went right back to it.

He spent some of his time the recent couple of years in NY with the love of his life, Toni, and in various hotels in LA, plus his house. At the end of that one month period I mentioned he recorded the rest of the music which would eventually be the record Niandra LaDes & Usually Just a T-shirt, which he had begun recording at the same time that the”


18 weeks of Captain Swan

Week 5. Captain Swan + Underrated Moments