sorry this was the best i could do with the quality of the cap

How I see kpop groups and their traits

Exo: referred to as gods by the future generation; they could release an album full of high pitched screaming and still would make the best selling kpop album; china line who?; we are 1 what?; korean members with chinese stage names; don’t let the satan near you; yehet, kkaebsong; give Sehun lines

Bts: from nowhere to everywhere; hyperactive kids making good music; kids with mental health issues doing vanalism; they look at you - you faint;  shit down, beach - bitch?, ikskjuz miii; zoo; give Jin lines

Ikon: B.I, Bobby and friends; favoritism by yg; “the next bigbang”, but yg seems to forget about them so does the crowd; being hyped up then ending up disappointed; capable of doing good music but refuses to; give chanwoo lines

Got7: no mvs in the future just videos of them dabbing; b side tracks always better than the titles; acrobatics until their neck breaks; not so creative fandom name; bamx2 is big; jaCSon, hard carry by Monsta x

Winner: searching for them - error404: nowhere to be found; somewhere in the yg building; Taehyun had enough shit, wants his own band, searching for members through tumblr; capable of being unique, yg aint letting them; let them break out   

Day6: now 5live, nope, day8, members: sungjin, wonpil, dowoon, youngk, jae, chicken little, brian, younghyun; the one who has a stage name but seems like everyone is forgetting about it; dancing king; hashtag king; let dowoon sing

Astro: too much sugar in my eyes i can’t see; too pure for you; won’t ever do other than cute concepts;  michael jackson; giant maknae; voice cracks for life; new generation of flower boys

Seventeen: too many; pledis has a thing for girly boys; pledis’ only income; leg breaking choreos; adore u remakes as title tracks; no dark concepts in the future; sebeuntin; carrots, mounteen; slipping here and there; dino nugu aegi; thughao, 10:10; divaboo; noone looks like suga; jeongcheol, meanie; give china line lines

Vixx: concept kings but kinda ran out of concepts; oldschool kpop feel; from vixx ravi to solo ravi - full upgrade; one of the prettiest fandom names; endless leader bullying; serial killer; let the maknae line sing

Shinee: going strong since 2008; people seem to pay less attention to them; taemin upgraded; weird fashion taste - key; cola cola; don’t sleep on them

Infinite: dope intros - give you chills; old kpop sound, unique sound; scorpion dance, live singing + synchronized choreos; dinosaur who’s laugh can be heard without a mic; endless leader and maknae bullying; saved woollim; give sungyeol and sungjong lines

Monsta x: future strippers; stuck between hiphop and sexy concepts; wtf is going on here mvs, gay mvs; cringiest fandom name; weird noises by the rapper; damn daniel; how to learn hungarian by changkyun; abs, memes; ten years later: waiting for their first win; mosta x, moista x, monster x;  give hyungwon lines; 

Bigbang: legends; noone can dance, too lazy to dance; fashionistas; min hyorin; yg = bigbang

B.a.p: started to rise - shit happened - nobody cares about them anymore; getting killed or killing others in mvs; unappreciated dancers and rappers; high notes for life; actual meaningful lyrics

Block b: zico and the boys; biggest weirdos of them all; no friendship just business; give jaehyo lines

Nct: taeyong and the boys; pouring salt at the wounds; mess of a noise music; rotating as much that i can already see the tornado; dozens of units; horrible fashion; unnecessary ps; damn hoverboard skills; great vocals being hidden; johnny somehow managed to get out; let hansol free; give lines to everyone

Pentagon: putting them through an unnecessary scripted survival show to make people foget about some disbanded groups (4minute); sm and yg let some gems slip out from their hands, at least they are not in the dungeon; giants and dwarfs; ugly crying; lame jokes; ultrasound screams; nudity; wooyu; yutoda; give shinwon lines

Btob: being forgotten by cube; weird, extra; slowly turning into a ballad group; is minhyuk a rapper?; give peniel lines

Beast: what is happening with u cube? shit happened; new name - bea5t?;  lost their spirit after shit happned; great lives 

Suju: waiting for ot15; shit still happening; growing out of kpop; concepts don’t match their age; still waiting for kibum; don’t forget about zhoumi & henry; diaries of a married man; being succesful in the military

Nu’est: best debut song ever; had the most potential as a rookie group; pledis messed up; now they’re popular anywhere besides korea; getting worse and worse title songs; aesthetic mvs; creative fandom name; again pledis has a thing for girly boys

Ft Island: hongki and the others; awesome dope music (let’s not count puppy here); people don’t appreciate quality music anymore; this gem is lost in the ocean of cute, badass & hiphop concepts; pretty fandom name

Cnblue: another gem; better japanese releases; boring new songs because they have to fit into the kpop standard; yonghwa’s unique teeth; visuals; let the others sing

SF9: another group coming from a survival show; covering their seniors’ songs so they can’t even recognize them; thumbs up for the K.O choreography; don’t go with them to amusement parks; deep af voice maknae; park jimin 2.0; hwiyoung got them lines in roar

KNK: a bunch of idiots - literally; tall af; models af; old school kpop feels; if you hear someone laugh hysterically from afar it’s probably them; falling dramatically to the floor while doing so; choking sounds; don’t let them feed you; horlolololo; astro x knk; bullying sanha

2PM: definition of men; hella hot bodies; starting to be unknown; when was their latest first win?; manly concepts; awesome vocals; the rap is still meh; go crazy is a jam y’all; great actors

U-Kiss: so many member changes; lit songs, but not getting appreciation; don’t complain about your faves not getting 1st place like 2 months after debut - it took for them years; the first kpop fathers; they need a comeback soon

B1A4: great vocals again; don’t let them being forgotten; cnu just rocks the short hair admit it; baby i’m sorry is one of the best kpop songs; but great ballads as well

Teen top: they need to go back to their previous style; cap rocking them tattoos; hilariously funny group - watch their weekly idol; promoting as five now - anticipate their comeback

Wanna One: what even is this name; salty af that Jonghyun and Samuel are NOT in the 11; Never is still my jam; i’m not lookung forward for cute concepts; god 10 year age gap between the oldest and youngest member; still salty some trainess weren’t even in top 20 *cough* hwanwoong *cough* taehyun *cough* gunhee* *cough*; some great inventors (round clap, jeojang, etc.) and psychos and a lot more.

Everyone please note that i dont mean to offend neither the groups neither the fans. its just for fun and me being 100% sarcastic by these statements. i love and respect these groups with all my heart!
sorry, its a bit long.

THE NINE TIMES STEVE GAVE YOU A FUNNY LOOK

Originally posted by themarvelnerd

Pairing: Steve x Reader, Bucky x Reader (Platonic), Avengers x Reader (platonic)

Warning(s): the kinda language Steve would smh at

World Count: 3827

Author’s Note: I got so into this it’s not even funny. After like, two years of not doing anything on tumblr, it isn’t surprising that i write a Steve oneshot for the first time since. But on that note, I don’t only do Steve works, please feel free to request other characters and/or fandoms: masterlist - prompt list.

Preference ★ Imagine ★ One Shot ★ Drabble




[Y/N] [Y/L/N] was an asshole.
You were an asshole.
You are an asshole.

You were slightly narcissistic with an ego as big as the tower, you were very beautiful, and the last person on earth to ever be considered shy.

That made you and Tony Stark best of pals (most of the time), and you and Steve as foes (all the time). He wasn’t rude or a jerk or at all hostile, Steve was just always on edge with you. He didn’t know whether or not your jokes were jokes (you always reverted back to slitting your enemy’s throats – Steve being a righteous guy and all, he wasn’t all that optimistic with that choice), or if you really were here to save people and not for the money the government and Tony Stark paid you — eh, what can you say, it’s very, very good money.

Humble was also not on your list of qualities.

Bold red lips, a wide grin to showcase your pearly white teeth, and heart shaped sunglasses. That was you in your room as you blasted out music at exactly 2100 hours.

You and Steve shared a floor in the Avengers tower.

Why? It was a decision that was absolutely not your choice, but you had no problem with it. Fucking with Steve was fun.

See, Tony had a whole floor to himself, same as Bruce and Vision. Nat and Clint were right below them (Clint usually at his place with Laura, though), Sam and Scott also had their own floor, Wanda and Pietro, then last but not least, Thor either in Asgard or London with Jane – which then pretty much left you and Steve together. Peter kind of lived here during the day then and back at his apartment with May during the evenings. He was a total pest.

A knock went by unnoticed by you. But an upset looking Steve did. He stalked into your (much larger) room and paused your music. He turned and gave you a look.

You raised your brow as you paused your late night dancing. You pushed your sunglasses further down your nose to peak up at the Captain. “Captain.” You greeted, nodding your head towards the brooding soldier once. “May I help you?“ You raised your perfectly sculpted brow in questioning.

Steve took a deep breath and crossed his (also very large) arms. “Your music was too loud and I’m trying to sleep. Can’t you at least keep it down?”

You snorted. “It’s barely nine o'clock, grandpa.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I’m not a grandpa.” He grumbled with an offended frown. “Just turn it down, will you?”

You smirked and pushed your glasses back up. “Oh, I’m sorry, have I spangled your stars, grandpa?”

With a final narrowed stare, Steve twisted his Dorito-body around and stalked back to his room.

You chuckled and resumed to your midnight dancing with wine.

That was the first time you got on his nerves. It was also the first time you were on the receiving end of his very famous looks.




The second time you received a stupid look was during a mission - in the middle of combat, mind you. This stupid robot who called himself Ultron was trying to ruin everything, and apparently, it was up to you and the rest of the Avengers to stop him – or it. It’s not that you wanted to. it was kind of what Tony Stark paid you to do. And like hell would you pass up Tony Stark’s pay checks.

Steve trusted you now, at least. You only saved his ass, like, a hundred (three) times after S.H.I.E.L.D. fell and he found out his best friend from seventy years ago was still alive. A wild ride, that year was.

Anyway, you and the team were in Sokovia fighting robots.


ROBOTS.


Fuck this shit, if the money wasn’t so good you’d drop your signature double pistols and walk the opposite direction. But one, your pistols were very delicate (silver with diamonds), and you were asked very nicely to stay by Bruce - and you could never say no to Bruce.

In hindsight, the view wasn’t so bad and I guess – I guess – that saving people felt a little good (don’t tell anybody). Sokovia was so far high into the sky that you could have sworn that you could see angels flying around in the distance – some helpful angels, huh.

The sky was beautiful, though. And so was Captain America’s ass.

You beamed at the sight and turned to Steve. “Hey, Cap?” You called out, shooting a robot.

Steve grunted in acknowledgement as he kicked another robot and decapitated it with his shield. “What?” He gave you a glance that barely lasted a second.

You shot another robot. Then another. Then another. Then you turned to him. “Nice ass.”

That was look number two.




"Hey F.R.I.D.A.Y.?”

"Yes, Ms [Y/L/N]?”

"What’s your faculty on nicknames?”

"Activated by Mr Stark, Ms.”

"Huh … so, like, what are you allowed to call me?”

"Whatever you ask, Ms [Y/L/N].”

“Right, right … how about Supreme Leader [Y/L/N]?”

"Activated,  Supreme Leader [Y/L/N].”

"Huh … thanks F.R.I.D.A.Y.”

"Of course, Supreme Leader [Y/L/N].”


Of course, that didn’t go unnoticed for long. You were eating dinner with the team – something that didn’t happen often – and Steve took this time to lecture the team about a mission in a few days time. Three days, to be exact. It was located in Paris, and you were all to attend a gala crawling with HYDRA agents, mercenaries, psycho bitches, and anything else in between.

“ – so we’ll go over the plans again after dinner – ”

You groaned loudly and threw your head back. You dropped your knife loudly causing a clink made by the knife and plate. “Rogers!” You whined, “We went over this yesterday! And this morning at breakfast! And two seconds ago while I tried to enjoy my dinner in peace, fighting the urge to grab this fork and shove it through my eye – ” you ignore his wince, “and now again tomorrow?! If you even bring this stupid mission up again, I will resign.” You threatened. “Resign, you hear me. R. E. S. I. G. N.” Drama Queen is also in your list of qualities. “F.R.I.D.A.Y. tell him.” 

Natasha rolled her eyes, Sam cleared his throat, Steve still had his wince and sullen/guilty face, Clint looked bored as he played with his peas, Thor looked confused, Pietro look amused, Wanda was too busy chatting up Vision, Scott was – where was Scott? Tony had a smirk, and poor Bruce just didn’t know where to look. Peter just chewed his chicken in anticipation, looking back and forth between you and Steve for a reaction.

F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice rang out soon enough. “Of course, Supreme Leader [Y/L/N].” Then the AI began repeating your every word.

Natasha’s brow shot up. “Supreme Leader? Really?”

“ – And this morning at breakfast. And – ”

You shrugged your shoulders.

“ – seconds ago while I tried to enjoy my dinn – ”

Steve groaned. “That’s enough, F.R.I.D.A.Y., please stop.”

“Yes, Captain.”

You rolled your eyes. “Traitorous bitch.” You mumbled.

Cue look number three.




The fourth time you received a look was when Steve was fixing a lightbulb and he suddenly found himself on the floor. He did know you guys hired people for that kind of work, right?

Anyway, you and Pietro - bored as hell and without anything to do - you both decided to race from the ground floor of the Avengers tower, to the very top – on foot – using the staircases.

And the silver asshole was absolutely not allowed to use his powers. If he did, you had every right to shoot him in the shoulder with your trusty diamond pistols and he would have to take it like a man. He promised so, himself. “Scouts Honour.” Pietro said, saluting you.

To which Wanda replied with a snort and, “What Scouts Honour?”

You were enhanced, yes, but you were tired. Not too much, just enough not to be tired after running twenty-six flights of stairs. You and Pietro both slammed into Steve’s ladder as he fixed a lightbulb.

You didn’t even bother looking back.

You could not lose this bet.

The entire time you ran, you repeated the same thing in your head over, and over again. Run, Forrest, Run! Whatever - If Pietro won, you had to massage him whenever he felt like it for an entire month. If you won, well, he had to give you a piggy back ride whenever you felt like it. Also for a month.

Steve was really upset after that. He wouldn’t look at you for a week, and when he finally did, he gave you a long lecture about racing inside the tower. “Blah, blah, blah, someone could get seriously hurt, blah, blah, blah, if I see you two race again, blah, blah, blah.”

You leant over towards Pietro who sat beside you. He was also slouched on his chair, eyes looking at the ceiling in boredom. “Are you also feeling the urge to shove your foot up his ass?”

That was look number four.




Look number five + look number six was kind of your fault.

Steve had arrived after being gone for months. He, along with Sam, had been off around the world searching high and low for James Buchanan Barnes. You wanted to go, you really did. Despite your love for annoying the living shit out of Steve, you still cared about him more than you let on. That was not your fault. How? Well, you know the whole shebang: 

Tragic back story: check. Trust issues: check. Daddy issues: check. Issues with not being able to express how you feel without wanting to physically vomit: check.

However, it was in your job description to be able to read people. You were an intelligent person. You knew a lot, you sensed a lot, you observed a lot. You just didn’t show it a lot. And without saying anything, you knew how people felt and most importantly, what they needed.

And Steve just needed his own space – Sam excluded. You were actually kind of jealous of Sam (tell anyone, and you won’t live until the next day). Sam was kind of Steve’s boyfriend (along with dear old Buck-a-roo and Tony).

So while he was gone, you kept your distance. Steve didn’t need any more on his plate, let alone more of your shit. Whenever he called the team for a report or to simply catch up, you never said anything. You had told the crew to just inform him that you were on a mission, in the gym, or off gallivanting somewhere - anywhere, really.

Steve really cared about you though, you knew that. Every time he called he’d see if you were there. And you were. You were there, right behind the monitor that projected him along with the the camera that projected the team from your end. Your face would be resting on your hand, your elbow propped the table. You actually smiled whenever he asked about you. It was cute.

Anyway, you kind of deserved look number five.

Steve had finally arrived with Bucky by his side. Sam had already said his hellos and received his welcome-home handshakes and hugs. Steve stayed behind the Quinjet for a few short minutes before hopping off and finally introducing the famous James Barnes. 

But you didn’t know that.

And neither did Scott.

You two weren’t racing – nope. You were simply just running to get to the last slice of cake in the main kitchen. In both your defence, it was the last slice of the cake Pepper brought home from Paris. Paris. You loved Paris. And apparently, Scott did, too. If that wasn’t worth running for, what the hell was?

You distinctly remember Pepper saying that it was from Paris, and that it was the best cake she’d ever tasted.

So, without looking, you barged through the team yelling bloody murder. Scott was a little behind seen as though you’d throw whatever the hell you could at him. That last slice was yours, and ramming, pushing, throwing off the building, and threatening whoever you needed to just to that slice, you would sure as hell do it.

You felt your hip slam into a corner of a table: ignored. You tripped over a step: ignored. You felt your shoulder ram into a very strong and metal-like object: ignored. You saw a couch: ignored + jumped over.

But alas, you held in your hand … the slice.

A grin erupted on your face. Poor Scoot looked crestfallen.

“Sorry, Lang. This one’s mine.” You grinned.

A clearing of the throat made you jump. What the hell did they want? 

When you looked up, you saw the entire team + Steve + The Winter Soldier.


Well, shit.


“Oh.” You trailed off. You gave Steve a sheepish smile. “Hi, Steve, good to see you again. Did I tell you I missed you? Because I did.”

“Didn’t I tell you to stop running in the tower?” Steve stared into your [Y/E/C] eyes with his blue ones.

“No. You told said to stop racing.”

Steve didn’t reply. Instead he gave you look number five.

You chuckled nervously and stalked towards them. “Sorry.” You looked to Sam and gave him a large hug despite already giving him one earlier. Your right hand still refused to let go of the platter of cake. Then you looked towards James Buchanan Barnes.

Steve cleared his throat. “Buck, meet [Y/N] [Y/L/N]. [Y/N] [Y/L/N], meet Bucky.”

Neither of you did anything. Just kinda stared at each other in thought. He tried to read you while you tried to read him.

He was lonely.

Okay, you thought. So you reached your right hand up and gestured him to take your plate. “Here you go. Nice to meet ‘cha.” 

Steve gave you another look, only, this one was different. It looked funnier – more odd and curious. A look that you had never seen before. That was look number six.

And this time, you didn’t see anyone’s reactions. You just stared at James Buchanan Barnes, while he stared at you, to the cake, then back to you again. 

Thus, a beautiful friendship was born.




Few months later,
Look number seven.


You found yourself in this position a lot, it seems. It would be two in the morning, your head in your hands and your ears perked up.

As an agent, you were trained this way. Your mind had its own mind. Every morning at exactly one o'clock your eyes would flutter open, and without a single thought, your body would move almost mechanically. You’d get up, wash your face, then throw a hoodie over your head. Afterwards, you’d find yourself sitting on the edge of you bed, head in your hands, and your ears waiting for Bucky.

After sleeping in the same floor as Steve and Bucky, Bucky’s room was right across yours. Both your doors were so close you could stand in the hall way, spread your arms, and you’d be able to touch both your door knobs.

Insomnia was something you had as a child. It came very naturally. So, as a cure, you’d take sleeping vitamins – not pills. Though it would help you fall asleep, it was up to you to keep yourself asleep. Five hours was your maximum. If your sleep was disturbed, that’s when you would wake up every day from then on unless you trained yourself otherwise all over again. That could take days, or even weeks going up to months.

So every day, it was up to you. You didn’t want Steve waking up and losing precious sleeping hours. So instead of training yourself to sleep for five hours all over again, you allowed yourself two hours of rest every night. From then on, you’d stay awake and listen for Bucky’s screams.

Then you’d find your feet silently landing on the floor and rushing towards Bucky’s room.


Here are your steps:

  1. Lightly press a pillow on Bucky’s metal arm and cover it.
  2. Sit on his arm to keep him from attacking you.
  3. Softly say his name as many times as it takes for him to wake up.
  4. Press your body harder onto his as he thrashes around.
  5. Then hug the hell out of him and cradle his head when he wakes and begins to weep.


This would have been the one hundredth time you’ve done this. Even now, you could still remember the fourth time you had done this. You had accidentally left Bucky’s door ajar.

You were observant and smart. 

You knew Steve was there.

You guessed you just took a little longer that time to wake Buck up.

You definitely saw Steve’s look then. And again, this look was kind of different. It was a funny look that you had no idea how to read.

The fact that this look was so different, to say it irritated the hell out of you was an understatement. Out of the both of you, it was meant to be you that got under his skin.

You hated feeling this way.




Nowadays, you’ve been more confused than in control.

Back then, you saw Steve, you’d feel the urge to irritate the hell out of him. But now, you’d see Steve, and suddenly, you’d feel a funny feeling in your stomach.

So, naturally, you absolutely despised him for it. Tonight – or morning – when Bucky woke up, he didn’t cry. He just asked if you were hungry. And, naturally, you had said yes. You were always hungry.

Soft music was playing. You didn’t want to wake up Steve, after all. So you stood in the kitchen of your floor and began making pop tarts. Bucky was sitting by the kitchen island while you decided to cheer him up. While the pop tarts were cooking up, you decided to change the music to pop. Then you began dancing.

You were not a dancer. Add that to your list of non-existent qualities.

You sort of just threw your hands in the air and hoped for natural rhythm to save your dignity. 

Bucky looked somewhat amused, so that was the goal accomplished.

It all came to an end when Steve cleared his throat. He stared at Bucky in a way that made all of you uncomfortable. Bucky was going to be just fine, that’s what you thought, anyway. Steve thought otherwise. Steve treated him like a broken vase.

That’s how you and Bucky got so close. 

You refused to look or listen to any of Steve’s old war stories about Buck. Thus, why you called Bucky “James”.

He wasn’t the Bucky he was in the 40’s. And he wasn’t The Winter Soldier, either. He was someone else.

Steve’s eyes bounced from you, to Bucky, then from Bucky, to you. “[Y/N], maybe now isn’t the time to – ”

“No, Steve,” Steve’s eyes snapped towards Bucky, “it’s fine.” Bucky said quietly. “She’s actually making me happy here.” 

After that, nobody talked to a while. Bucky stood from his stool and began to walk off. 

You stepped towards him, “James - ”

He shook his head. “It’s alright [Y/N], trust me. I’ll be fine tonight. I’m gonna try and go back to sleep.”

Well, that was new.

You gave Bucky a funny look but nodded. “Okay. Call if you need me.”

Bucky didn’t say anything after that. He just walked back to his room.

Your pop tarts popped out from the toaster. After that it was left untouched.

Steve cleared his throat. “[Y/N] – ” 

You shook your head. “Nope.”

Steve’s forehead frowned. “What?”

“Do you want Bucky to get over what HYDRA did to him?” You asked. You didn’t wait for him to reply. “Well, too bad so sad, he isn’t going to get over it. Bucky needs to accept it. Then he needs to be angry. Then he needs to be sad. Then after all that, he needs to forgive himself.” You said, your hands on your waist. “And you making him feel like broken glass isn’t gonna help. It’ll confine him and make him feel crazy. Treat him like a normal person, you jackass. Let him feel like a man. Not a baby.” You took a deep breath and pulled your eyes away from his piercing blue ones. You looked at your pop tarts briefly before turning around and walking away.

And you didn’t miss his look when you did. Steve had already realised he was wrong the moment his eyes fell on the toaster.

You left your pop tarts.




Look number nine:

Again, it was in the kitchen. Bucky’s nightmares were slowly fading. Whenever he woke, you’d stay until he fell back asleep. Then you’d proceed to the kitchen and rummage for food.

“Hey, Supreme Leader.” Your head snapped towards the kitchen entrance.

You gave a nod to the blond man in acknowledgement. “Captain.” You said in a mocking soldier’s tone.

You both stood in silence for a while. You didn’t mind it for a while. Your arms were preoccupied with balancing cartons and containers of food as you boldly chewed on your Lucky Charms cereal – and then the silence just got too long. Steve stared at you with a funny look. Eh, eating cereal without milk at three in the morning wasn’t all that unusual – but for some reason, you had a really big feeling the look wasn’t about the cereal. That was actually the reason why Tony always complained about all the marshmallow gone in the morning. Not your fault. Marshmallows were the best part and everyone knew that.

You squinted your eyes as you watched him watch you. A silent growl of impatience rose to your throat. You couldn’t really speak so you opted with growling.

Still no reply.

Finally, you forcefully swallowed your marshmallow and pointed an accusing finger at Steve. His look was different again. It wasn’t annoyed or of frustration. Really it just frustrated you.

You huffed. “You’re looking at me funny.”

Steve just smiled softly. “Bucky loves you.” He said from his position by the entrance of the kitchen.

You just smirked and shoved another handful of marshmallows into your mouth. “Figured that one out a long time ago, Rogers.” Your hand reached into the box once again. “What can I say, I’m good at making friends.” 

Steve chuckled silently. Then he swallowed and looked directly into your eyes. “I love you. And not the way Bucky does.”

You swallowed. The you nodded slowly. Your heart felt so full, you had no idea what to say. And so you said the first thing that popped into your head. You said what you would say, and not stupid Nicholas Sparks movies.

“I know.” You grinned. “And I may or may not feel the same.” Before he could reply, your smile wiped off as you pointed your finger at him again accusingly, “I said maybe.”

The “Just the thought of Team Cap walking all over Tony makes me want to trash my room, I just want unashamed, biased, pro-Tony quality content, is that too much to ask??” inspired ficlet I’ve been holding back for a while:

Bitterness ahead, guys. Not Team Cap friendly. Nor is it particularly deep or rational. I just wanted to get a couple of thoughts out of my head. Basically Tony is done being the team’s sugar daddy, only it comes to light in a very roundabout way. 


“When are my arrows gonna be fixed anyways?” Clint grumbles, rubs a hand over his sore shoulder. The one that wouldn’t have gotten injured, had his shot hit the target it was supposed to. Which it should have, his aim had been fine. The problem were the arrows. Someone must have screwed up somewhere in the production because they weren’t perfectly balanced.

They’re sitting in the conference room at the (mostly) restored compound. Tony is tapping away on his StarkPad, not even bothering to look up. He must have felt the questioning glances and noticed the silence, but he still doesn’t react.

Steve resists the urge to roll his eyes. He doesn’t want to encourage the tension between them, things are bad enough as it is. If only Tony would put in some effort as well, instead of going out of his way to antagonise them, maybe they could make some actual progress.

“Yo, Stark!” Clint snaps, voice reaching that biting sharpness he reserves specially for the billionaire. “I’m talking to you!”

Tony shows no outward reaction, which is strange to see. Back when they first came back, he used to move at all times, sharp and erratic, never staying still. Steve shakes his head at their unnecessary power play.

Tony answers before he has the chance to reprimand them though. “How would I know?” he asks, a brief frown flittering across his face as he scribbles something down onto the tablet.

The outraged look on Clint’s face tells everyone present that this meeting won’t get back on track any time soon. It’s understandable, really. Clint has been forced to fight three battles with faulty equipment and frankly, the lack of concern Tony is showing for his team mates’ safety is nothing short of callous. Steve knows things haven’t been good between them but this is the first time he wonders if things could really be so bad, that Tony would hold necessary equipment back on purpose.

It’s a terrible thought, but try as he might, Steve isn’t able to shake it off.

At least the rising tension finally causes Tony to look up and meet Clint’s glare. He’s wearing sunglasses even though they’re inside, like he always does. Steve doesn’t like it. Makes it harder to read Tony, to tell what he’s really thinking. Absently, he admits that this is probably why Tony wears them so religiously.

“What do you mean ‘how would you know’?!” Clint snarls, enraged. “My arrows have been acting up for weeks and you still don’t know how to fix it?!”

Tony stares at Clint, the expression on his face unreadable. Then, after a long, long moment of heavy silence, the answer.

“I’m not fixing your equipment.”

For a moment, it’s deadly quiet, as Steve struggles to process the meaning of what Tony has just said.

“Tony,” Steve hastily inserts himself as soon as he finds his voice again, before Clint can throw himself across the room and deck him, “I know there are still some issues we all have to work through, but that’s not an excuse to-”

“Hold it right there, Rogers,” Tony interrupts. It’s never Cap, always Rogers these days. The pain the distinction causes still catches Steve by surprise more often than not. “I’m not sure where you get this from but I’m not your mechanic. I don’t work for you. So if Barton here has an issue with his weapons, he needs to take it up with the people in charge. Considering how often you remind me that it’s not me, you’d think you’d have figured that part out already.”

“But it’s not working!”

Tony sighs. The deep, heavy sort of sigh you usually expect from an exhausted parent after their insistent child asks, “Are we there yet?” for the 34th time. “Then take it up with the quartermaster. Or Agent Hudson. Or one of the techies. Seriously, Barton, you signed the Revision. Who’s responsible for what is right in there, section 12 to 17. Besides-” he pauses.

“What are you waiting for? Go on!” Clint demands between gritted teeth, hands curled into tight fists. Thankfully, he’s not throwing anything. Yet. “Don’t get shy with me now!”

Tony straightens in his seat. Steve inwardly sighs. That man has never been able to let a challenge go unanswered.

Besides,” Tony continues, voice still surprisingly even, “chances are they’re working just fine.”

“You think I can’t tell when my bow isn’t fucking working the way it should?” Clint bristles.

The words actually cause Tony to lower his sunglasses for a moment, just to make sure there is no doubt about how stupid he believes Clint to be. “I’m saying you’re operating with a standard bow, Barton. The fabric and the construction limit the performance quality. Something I’m sure an experienced archer like yourself has picked up on.”

And yes, things are definitely getting ugly. That level of glacial cold in Tony’s voice is rarely achieved, even now.

“The why the fuck did you build a subpar bow?”

Tony sighs again. “You’re missing the point. Seriously, I can not believe we’re even having this conversation. I did not build that bow, Barton.”

And that’s–that’s a surprise.

Tony’s gaze trails over them all, taking in their confused, shocked expressions. “Really?” he asks, exasperation dripping from every syllable. “Did any of you even read the Revision? The Avengers’ are an official unit. Their weapons and uniforms can’t be provided by a private party, especially not one who is part of the team. Have you ever heard the term conflict of interest?”

“What about Stark Industries?” Natasha asks. From the furrow in her brows though, Steve suspects she already knows the answer–and doesn’t like it one bit.

“I’m not sure if you noticed,” and now there’s no mistaking the mocking in Tony’s tone, “but SI doesn’t sell weapons anymore. It was kind of a big thing, couple of years back.”

“But- But yours are better!” Clint splutters. It sounds plaintive and weak, even in Steve’s ears, but at the same time he knows what Clint’s struggling to say. It’s not about getting your toys taken away. It’s about their safety and efficiency in the field. On bad days, it’s about the survival of their entire planet.

“I can’t believe you would risk the teams’ lives and safety like this because of a petty argument,” Steve says, unable to keep quiet any longer, nor bothering to hide the honest disappointment.

Tony, unimpressed as always, simply snorts. “You’re an official unit, but before that you’ve been working for SHIELD for years. Did you ever have the very best equipment mankind was capable of providing at the time? No,” he answers his own question in a breeze, “you didn’t. Why? Because you’re agents, soldiers. And sure, the government wants to protect us, wants to keep us alive and make sure our missions succeed. But they have limited funding, which means everyone has to deal with the best cost-efficient option available. If you’ve got the right connections to get something more, then lucky you, but that makes you an exception, not a rule.”

“You don’t need to explain real life to me!” Clint snaps aggravated.

“Then why do you feel entitled to something better?” That question, sharp and cutting, makes the archer still, his mouth open but with no retort forthcoming. Tony is blinking at him now, head tilted sideways in child-like curiosity.

“Of course, if I, as a private citizen, decided to build something that doesn’t violate any laws and give it to a friend as a gift, that would be something else, wouldn’t it?” Tony continues after a moment, voice softer now, but no less cutting. His eyes are fixated on Clint, sunglasses pushed back, eyes dark and unmoved. “The average update would take me what, a week or two? That’s a lot of time to invest into a single project, especially when the ultimate use is so limited. How many people can possibly profit from improved protective vest versus how many people improve from an exploding arrow is a really fascinating comparison to make.”

“So you see, Barton, even if I could improve your bow, there’s no logical reason why I should waste my time like this.”

“Tony!” Steve interrupts, scandalised. “Clint’s life depend on his aim! Our lives depend on it! How can you justify not providing him with the most basic necessities.”

Tony doesn’t even try and look abashed, instead he throws his head back and laughs. “This is how you want to play it, Rogers? Because I’m rich and a genius, I owe it to you to devote my time, attention and money to bettering your lives? What about the seven billion other people on this world? Don’t they deserve the same consideration, hm? What makes you so special that I should put your needs before anything else?”

Steve opens his mouth, but Tony doesn’t give him a chance to speak.

“I tell you what this is: this is you realising I’m no longer spoiling you rotten because you are in fact not my kids and I can cut you off whenever the fuck I want. And you don’t like it. Because guess what, I may be privileged, but so are you! You’re heroes, most of the time, as far as the world is concerned. You’ve been living off my money and resources on top of that. You’ve always gotten special treatment and you like that. You’re as far detached from the ‘ordinary man on the street’ as I am, you just don’t have the self-awareness to fucking notice!”

Tony sends them a sardonic smile that does in no way take the sting out of his words. “Don’t worry,” he says, “you’ll still be special. It’s just no longer my name footing that bill. Because we’re not friends. And as a business man, I’m not at all sorry to tell you that you simply aren’t worth investing into.”

And with that he stands, all blinding press smile, sweeps around dramatically, and strides purposefully out of the room. The automatic door closes noiselessly behind him, but he might have as well slammed it shut for all the difference it would’ve made.

It’s likely not a coincidence, that on their next mission Spiderman, Vision and Miss Marvel all showcase new, incredibly features and weapons that can’t have been created by anyone else. And it’s impossible to know for sure, what with the mask on, but Steve is one hundred per cent certain that Spiderman is smirking at them.

He is not wrong.


Let me know what you think? And please excuse any mistakes, I’ll re-read this tomorrow. Also this is the last post for today. I’m tiredtiredtired now and think I’ve spread enough bitterness for the day. And spammed your dashes with enough endless posts probably…oops.

anonymous asked:

Different anon but do you have any Check Please fic recs? I accidentally clicked on the link you shared yesterday and read it all in one go.

OMGCP is absolutely wonderful and I’m happy to say that the quality of fic in the fandom is equally so! I’ve got quite a few recs here—pretty much all of them Jack/Bitty—so strap yourself in! 

Be warned: most of these were written at different points of the comic, in between waiting for new updates, so most of these could be construed as canon AUs. The rest of my OMGCP recs can be found here.

(** indicates a personal favorite)

R.C.’s OMGCP/Zimbits Fic Recs

If We’re Falling in Love by sunfair **

Madison, July 2015: over two days, everything changes.

Ice Crew Please! by rosepetals42 **

Jack Zimmermann was drafted first by the Providence Falconers when he was eighteen years old. He is good at hockey. Very good. His team won the Cup his second year and now, in his third year, they are looking good. Jack should be on top of the world. And some days, he manages to convince himself he is.

He’s not, of course.

Enter the Ice Crew.

brought to you by by HalfFizzbin

Jack Zimmermann is the new face of the franchise. Unfortunately.

three words that became hard to say by the_one_that_fell **

Ten years after Samwell, Eric Bittle and Jack Zimmermann find each other again. AU.

Double Jeopardy by orphan_account

Eric Richard Bittle does not choke on his drink. He is not thinking about Jack’s hands, nor is he thinking about twisting, checking, or any combination of the two. He is just a small southern boy who came to play hockey and mind his own business.

the messes of men by decinq

Jack wants it to be easier, doesn’t want to be cutting crescents into his palm with his fingernails.

the things you said by Anonymous (to be revealed) **

Sometimes, when things get really hard and it’s late at night and he can’t sleep, Jack thinks his life might be better without hockey, that maybe if he gave it all up and became a firefighter or a gardener or a chef, if he left the ice forever, maybe then he wouldn’t need to have that bottle of pills in his bag anymore.

But every time he’s back on the ice, he remembers. This is the only place where his life actually makes any sense.

Or, the story of three times Jack Zimmermann meets Eric Bittle.

won’t watch you walk away again by nightswatch

Bitty was never friends with Jack Zimmermann at Samwell, but after he graduates, he keeps running into him.

(Or: Five times Bitty and Jack meet accidentally and one time it isn’t an accident at all.)

i’ll see you with your laughter lines by the_one_that_fell **

Eric Bittle was fourteen when his soulmate died.

They’d never even gotten to meet.

a tale of love and how it finds you by nightswatch **

Bitty sees Jack Zimmermann almost every morning, but he’s never said a single word to him. Honestly, Jack Zimmermann probably doesn’t even know that he exists.

better than I know myself by Mizzy **

Jack’s not very good at noticing common threads. So it takes him the longest time, over a year, before he realizes what’s been different in the Haus. It’s not something that’s present, so much as something that’s missing. And it’s this: that Bittle calls everyone pet names.

Everyone but Jack.

so just hush by robokittens

It’s amazing how Bittle can just take what he wants, when Jack finds it so hard to ask for anything. But there’s no doubt now that Bittle wants to have sex — wants to get fucked, wants Jack to fuck him. And Jack, oh, he’d give him anything.

Except.

Revenge is best served @ by Perpetual Motion (perpetfic)

The ESPN hockey anchors take a cheap shot. Bitty takes one back.

is it too late now to say sorry by magneticwave **

I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS, Eric types furiously into Twitter. THIS IS LIKE RENAMING LAKE WOEBEGONE “LAKE SCOTT WALKER.” // Or, the only person in the entirety of Canada who is upset about Jack Zimmermann’s first Stanley Cup is Eric Bittle, and by God is every single one of Eric’s 160,000 Twitter followers going to hear about it.

naked ambition by asfroste

It’s one thing for Bitty to have a pathetic secret crush and maybe occasionally get off to vague thoughts of Jack-shaped people with blue eyes, and another, completely wrong thing, to actually jerk off to naked pictures of Jack Zimmermann.

[or, the one where Jack strips down for ESPN The Magazine’s Body Issue and Bitty has some…issues with it. issues involving inconvenient boners.]

I hear symphonies in my head by lilbookofkell

Eric listens to a lot of music. Life is never so bad that it can’t be fixed with baked goods and the right soundtrack, and he’s really good at providing both, if he says so himself.

evidence by orphan_account (i think it’s by applecrumbledore)

Bitty finds a photo booth strip and almost doesn’t recognize Jack because he’s not sure he’s ever seen him grin off-ice before, and his hair is so long it curls around his ears, and he’s so, so young. It takes Bitty a few long seconds to realize the boy he’s kissing is Kent Parson, with the same backwards cap and everything.

The Love Song of Suzanne Bittle by mahons_ondine

Suzanne Bittle may talk slow, but she doesn’t think slow.

we’re gonna fight til we do it right by sparklyslug

It starts with an apple pie, and ends with a real friendship. Somehow.

on the sidelines wishing for right now by defcontwo

Bitty resists the urge to let out a hysterical laugh because apparently this is just his life now. He tries to call his boyfriend and winds up getting hockey advice from a living legend.

5 times Bitty bonded with Bad Bob + 1 time Jack tries to bond with Coach Bittle.

maybe i’m waking up by idrilka

It’s almost funny. All he ever wanted was to play hockey, to play in the NHL, to win the Cup. This—Samwell, the team, the Haus—was supposed to be just a detour, but now it feels more like a destination he failed to realize he’s already reached.

(Or: Jack signs with the Falconers, graduates, and leaves. It’s the hardest thing he’s ever done. What comes after is even harder.)

Chris Evans Fic: Since Then

If they are still open can I request Chris and y/n and they had a friends with benefits deal that resulted in a kid and now they are raising their kid together but not together if you know what I mean. But everyone around them can see how in love they are and they play it off. Happy ending all round please. Sorry if they are closed.

***

The day your daughter had been born, Chris had only just made it in time. She was three weeks early and Chris had been at the end of filming stint, planning on returning to Boston four days later so that he’d be around in those final weeks of your pregnancy and ready to go when you popped. But his baby girl had had other ideas, deciding she was more than ready to see the world and wanted out, like now. So your sister had called him, screaming more than was probably necessary and told him to get his ass on the next flight out if he had any hopes of witnessing the birth of his first child.

You were determined, this baby wasn’t coming until Chris was by your side, not because you needed him there as such, but because you didn’t want him to miss this incredible, life changing moment. You didn’t care how many nurses told you that birth didn’t work that way, that baby was staying in until her father could be there to welcome her into the world.

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Laura’s goodbye

Hello petals, yesterday and today I talked with Laura about why she decided to delete her blog. 

I understood her reasons and I agreed (ofc, duh) to post this message on her behalf. Now I beg you, please read her words, for she really, really wanted to let you all know why she did such a thing. 

What you’ll read it’s extremely important and I hope you can find a bit of time to think about her reasons and the whole situation concerning our fandom and the relationship between writers and readers. 

I’m sure we all will miss Laura, because she was not only a great writer but also a lovely, beautiful person <3

So, without further ado, these are Laura‘s words for you.


Hello guys! It’s Laura (previously @pantaemonium-deactivated2017062).
First of all I want to thank my dear Conny for allowing me to post this on her blog. I really wanted to have a chance to say goodbye to you. 

Many of you will be wondering what happened, how did someone who had just posted that morning and gave no sign whatsoever that she was going to leave… actually left with no explanation at all. Truth be told, I had been thinking about deleting for the longest time. As time passed, I felt more burdened, more pressured to write Fallout, or create contents you would like instead of going for the stories I wanted to write and, at some point I could no longer write a word of the many stories I had started out of an impulse. For someone whose only way of expressing herself is writing, this was devastating and it was taking a great toll on my mental health I was not willing to face for the sake of my blog. 

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Learned From The Best

Summary: Dean makes a mistake and reader tries to make the most of it…

Square Filled: Teasing

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 1,000ish

Rating: mature (smut (grinding), language)

A/N: Written/created for @spnkinkbingo


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anonymous asked:

Do I even need to send you this prompt? HARRY SITTING IN LOUIS' LAP, THAT IS THE QUALITY CONTENT WE DESERVE.... also inspired by that petnames gif post, PET NAMES TOO Your writing is fantastic, thank you and I love you💛

(it’s fucking 4am and i can’t sleep lmao? i don’t even know what this is i wrote it on my phone and i am sorry if it sucks sorry there r no caps hope it’s ok xoxoxoxo i love you)

“clifford, you little fucker,” louis hisses the third time cliff nearly yanks his shoulder out of its socket for the sake of going after a squirrel. cliff’s an idiot, gangly and uncoordinated at the best of times, and louis thinks he should know better than to even consider chasing the poor thing up a tree. in fact, louis thinks cliff could stand to be more considerate in general.

“he’s quite big, actually,” harry comments mildly, the corner of his mouth twitching because he, too, is inconsiderate, and the fact that he thinks he’s hilarious is always written on his face as a precursor to every one of his stupid jokes.

“thank you, darling, you’re always so… insightful,” louis says. he tried for a more caustic tone, really he did, except it only comes out fond. cliff falls back in line at louis’s side, harry wraps an arm around louis’s shoulder, and everything is settled in louis’s world again.

things like this — midday walks with their shitty dog and, earlier, ice cream dates when their throats already scorched with the cold — are treasured, for louis. he watches as harry tries in idle frustration to worm a finger between his bandage and his wrist so he can relieve an itch and bites the inside of his lip on a smile. maybe it’s just harry he treasures.

“let’s sit down,” harry says, veering off the path to collapse at the base of a tree, and then moaning, “my bum is wet now.” he looks at louis like he expects immediate eradication of all the grass and the rain and the earth that had caused such a thing, so ridiculously indignant that louis has to snort.

he tugs cliff over, hands the leash to harry, and sheds his jacket to sit on.

“it’s a bit cold,” louis says. “we could’ve gone home, you know. lots of places to sit there. inside.”

“this is nature and all that,” is harry’s argument. he sidles over, only bothering to be sneaky about it for a moment before he clambers sideways into louis’s lap, the damp seat of his lazy joggers on louis’s thigh. with his hands free of cliff’s leash, louis can wrap them around harry’s waist.

they watch cliff sniff around for a while until he flops down in disinterest, and harry sets his chin on the top of louis’s head, his breathing gone deep and steady. harry does that — just rests, whenever and wherever he can. it’s the most endearing thing. he’s peaceful — he’s louis’s calm.

“darling,” louis murmurs, squeezing harry’s hip tight.

harry hums quietly in response, and then pipes up, “what?”

louis’s leg is rather numb and cliff is possibly trying to eat a rock and louis’s not all that cold anymore, with harry in his lap, wrapped around him like this, but it is drizzling a little.

“nothing. just missed your voice, baby,” is all he says, and tilts his head back so harry can give him a kiss.

themonalisa  asked:

hi! I started archery and in my beginner course I realised that I'm really weak :'( My instructor recommended me to use a compound bow bc I'm fairly good at aiming while using it, but I crave the aesthetic of the recurve. Is it possible for me to build enough muscle so that I can aim well with a recurve? (Could you recommend me some exercises?) Also I'm planning on buying equipment within a month so would it be best for me to wait to build up strength before buying a bow? sorry for the essay!

hi hello GOSH I LOVE ARROWS ARCHERY QUESTIONS

Okay so, just so we’re clear, I am for the moment gonna assume that when you say ‘weak’ you mean ‘what are sports?  we just don’t know.’ –because bro!, that would be me!, I know that one.  if you mean weak as part of a disability*, then bruh I can help with that too.  one of the coaches at my range is on the US Paralympic Archery team and I would be glad to hassle him for advice.

*archery is for EVERYONE.  there are archers in wheelchairs, there are blind archers, the world record for the longest accurate shot in archery is currently held by a gentleman who doesn’t have arms.

Moving on, okay, I am … side-eyeing your instructor just a little bit?  do you happen to know what poundage (How hard to pull) the recurves you used were?  at my range, a beginner archer of adult height gets a 66″ bow of either 12 or 16 pounds of draw weight (how much force it takes to pull the string back 28 inches.)

so, here’s the thing about pulling a bow.  imagine a gallon of milk.  or juice is okay if you prefer juice.  imagine picking it up by the cap.  yikes???  most people would find this very hard or impossible, and it’s not necessary.  so, you pick it up by the handle.  much easier!  you can manage the weight.  archery is just the same - the same amount of weight is either dang near impossible OR not too bad, and it’s all down to how you use your body to move that weight.

shooting a bow, your instructor should be showing you how to hook the string and pull with your back (much more muscle!) as you lower your front shoulder and push the bow away. push and pull, push AND pull.  it’s awkward at first, but once you get the hang of it, if you are using a bow that’s appropriate for your skill level, it’s MUCH easier because you are using your muscles efficiently.  and definitely don’t feel bad about feeling weak - literally every saturday i have people who are convinced they cannot do this, whole body shaking as they try to pull the bowstring back in an awkward way, and once they’ve had fifteen minutes of me poking at their elbows and back, saying ‘pull from here, elbow behind you, now push it away push push–’ they’re drawing the bow smoothly and making very nice shots!  

tl;dr, it is totally possible to build up enough muscle to start a recurve!  exercises, briefly: 

1.) buy a stretchy band and pull it like it’s a bow.  this one is… hrm.. I could explain it better with pictures.  would you like pictures?  i can try to do that tomorrow.  

2.) less need of pictures, do plain old push-ups - i do them against the wall. place your hands against the wall, lean in (bending elbows, tummy firm, back STRAIGHT - if you let your back sag, it will hurt) until your nose touches the wall, then push off. repeat until tired, and it’s okay if that only takes five times.  try to do six next time, then seven, then take a dang day off!  when you can do like thirty, make it harder - back up further away from the wall - it will be harder to push off. 

3.) lift things.  lift a water bottle.  lift the cat.  hold the water bottle at your side, then lift it to shoulder height, arm fully extended - as you would lift a bow.  hold it up for fifteen seconds (10 or 5 if you can’t do 15), then lower it.  rest for the same amount of time you held it up, then repeat.  if you can only do two of those at first, bruh!  that’s fine.  try to do three tomorrow, then four, then - take a day off!!  lots of rest days are important - you WILL get sore, your muscles WILL need time to recover.  starting out, swap the water bottle (or weight or cat) from arm to arm, so that one can rest while the other works.  as you get stronger, use two weights and do both arms.  extend your arms both straight to your side and straight in front of you - this is working on different parts of your shoulder.

WOW has this gotten long - and here you thought you wrote an essay!

Equipment:  Nope, you don’t have to wait, as long as you buy ‘the right’ equipment.  ‘Right equipment’ doesn’t have to be fancy or expensive, it just needs to have limbs that can be taken off.  Here is an example of the sort of bow I mean:  LINK!  We have tons of bows just like this one at my range. that one is metal, but plastic (like this) is also fine, and so is wood (like this.) See the black knobs at the top and bottom where the limbs (white bendy parts) meet the riser (the ‘body’ of the bow)?  those are bolts, the limb can be easily taken off and swapped out for a lighter (easier to pull) or heavier (harder to pull) limb.  limbs of the bolt-on type are very affordable, and a beginner bow of good quality is both tough and light weight.  

the only point I will make on the purchase of the equipment is, do NOT let anyone tell you that it’s a ‘waste of money to buy limbs that are too light.’  that is dumb, people that ought to know better say it to archers all the time, and you know what happens?  those new archers hurt their shoulders, aren’t having fun with a bow that’s a struggle to pull back, and the bow goes in the closet and we never see them again. :’(  go ahead and get the lightest limbs available for your bow of choice - this is usually either 12 or 14 pounds. if you are over about 5′6″ tall, get the 12 pound limbs or even 10 if you can find them.  If you are 5′6″ or under, 12 is still okay, but so is 14.  this probably sounds backwards, but to put it bluntly:

the farther back you pull a recurve bow, the HARDER it gets.  that’s what the recurve shape of the limb does, it makes the bow more powerful as it is pulled back more. so, if you’re tall, or have rather long arms, you’ll pull the bow back more - you want lighter limbs so that you don’t have to fight with them. if I draw a bow with 14 pound limbs, it will be 16 pounds - I am tall, my arms are long.

 if you are short or have stumpy t-rex arms, your draw length will be short - you may only pull a pair of 14 pound limbs to 11 or 12 pounds, if not less.

MAN ok, this has been an info-dump, and I hope it helps; if you have any more questions let me know, and I will do my best!  ENJOY.  YOU CAN DO IT.

Drunk on You (Zach Dempsey x Fem!Reader)

Originally posted by joeck


*not my gif* WOW I WROTE TWO ZACH FICS IN THE SPAN OF 24 HOURS HUH? I’m so sorry to the people waiting on Hamilsquad fics, my muse is just out of reach for the requests and I’m trying to get it back as fast as I can. In the mean time, I really hope you guys enjoy this fic. I would marry Zach Dempsey in a heartbeat, and I hope I captured him enough here. 

This fic is rated SFW! (THIS IS LIKE 80% FLUFF Y’ALL)

Trigger Warnings: Alcohol/Being drunk/Cursing/Arguing/Divorce mention

Reader, fed up with her parents arguing, gets drunk to try and forget her problems instead of going to her boyfriend. When Zach finds out, he goes to Reader’s house to confront her. Fluff ensues. 

ENJOY! )

You’d come home from the library that night to find your parents fighting, again. Per usual, your mother was accusing your father of cheating based on flimsy evidence. You father was calling her psychotic for accusing him of something like that.

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Internet Crush >.<; part two

Originally posted by oncenone

nsfw pictures up ahead ;O

Nxmjoon_dd just posted a picture

would you like to view?

Yes   No


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Anti-Social (Rogers/Evans x reader)

I just like the universe where Steve and Chris exist together

You hadn’t been much for social media until you started working with the Avengers as their publicity manager, finding that it was a necessity to be able to do your job as well as to monitor what talk about the team had been happening in the world around them.   Steve had taken to it fairly quickly once Sam pushed him into getting a few accounts, none the more troublesome for you than his Twitter account.  Freedom of speech is one thing; but when Steve got on a hot topic that he was passionate about, it wasn’t uncommon for you to have to step in and shut him down.  

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Body-Swap AU (I guess?) - anon submission

People have been talking about the idea of Sid and Geno switching bodies but like… what about if it’s been a really long time since G and Ovi have hung out, and after a Pens/Caps game ends in a shootout (so, they’re both in good enough of a mood to be around each other), they decide to go out for drinks. It’s weird, that they’ve gotten oddly distant over the years, but still, they have a good time.

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Stay or Go

Request: Can you write an imagine about a 5'6 curvy but toned (hourglass shape) dark-skinned African-American woman that works with Tony (not an Avengers) and is good friends with Bucky or Steve. She also has feelings for either one but think he only sees her as a friend but actually he’s in love with her but doesn’t think she’ll date him because he’s white.

Tony danced around the lab like an idiot, while you continued with the schematics for a new weapon to put on Tony’s suit. Any other day you might have joined in. His music taste wasn’t all bad, every now and again he’d surprise you with very old music that you liked, usually from your parents playing it around the house. However, today you were gripped by this unexplainable need to finish the schematic you’d been working on for a new defense mechanism for Tony’s suit. You could call it a stroke of genius inspiration, and you had to get it done before the inspiration left. Tony may have been a bit flamboyant today but he did not get in the way of your work.

“Tony, what the hell?!” A new voice yelled, you jumped a bit and looked up to see who was yelling. It was Steve, you looked over at Tony suspiciously wondering what he had done to piss of Captain America. Tony shrugged as the two of you made eye contact.

“What did I do this time?” Tony asked nonchalantly. You found it amazing how calm he could be when a very annoyed super soldier was stalking into the office.

“If you thought the fire crackers in a pot gag was funny, think again,” he growled. You gave Tony a look of pure incredulity. Why would he do that?

“It was as good a wake up call as any,” Tony said, his voice skipping up a few octaves as he became defensive. He was more or less pleading his case to you.

“I’m so sorry about him, Stevie. I should have known that if he wasn’t bothering me he would bother you. Are you guys alright? How’s Bucky?” you asked, setting your pen down and accepting that you were going to have to take a break. Steve stopped glaring at Tony long enough to look at you and answer.

“He’s fine now, but if Tony had even a bit of sense-”

“It seemed like something familiar for him to wake up to,” Tony interrupted. He was being an asshole and you fully intended to give him a piece of your mind once Steve left.

“We both know sometimes Tony is lacking in the sense department. I’ll handle Tony, you get back to Bucky. I’ll visit this evening.”

“Thanks, Y/N,” Steve sighed, then shot one more glare at Tony for good measure. You watched Steve leave then you turned your glare to Tony. He was reclining in a desk chair, throwing popcorn in the air and catching it in his mouth.

“You are such an asshole, you know that?” you tried to keep from yelling at him, but he could just be so annoying and selfish.

“I am aware of that, yes,” he responded.

“I get that you don’t like Bucky, and that’s fine, but do you have to antagonize him?”

“Well given that he-”

“Oh stop it! We both know the story. You know he was brainwashed to do those things. Bucky shouldn’t be HYDRA’s scapegoat!” you argued.

“If it wasn’t for him, my parents would still be alive. If you ask me I’d say I’m going easy on him.”

“Tony, I am your friend but I have to call you out on your bull shit. What you’re doing is wrong. I know you’ve got your own problems that you’re trying to work through but vengeance is a double edged sword, and it’ll cut you too.”

“Ugh, I hated when you talk in riddles,” he threw his head back, as if  exhausted.

“Well if karma doesn’t kick your ass, Steve will. First you won’t allow Bucky to go home with his best friend because you want to ‘keep an eye on him’ then while he’s here you torture the poor man. Steve has started fights for less Tony, and with all due love and respect, without your suit you ain’t got shit on Captain America. And if Cap fights then Sam and Bucky fight, and do you want another civil war?”

“I think you’re just mad because I’m toying with your crush,” Tony grinned.

Without thinking you threw the nearest object at him. It was a little piece titanium that hit him right in the arm.

“Ow, dammit,” he complained rubbing his arm, “Fine I’ll go easy on your boyfriend.”

“You’ll let him go live with Steve.”

“Well if I do that then you’ll never see him,” Tony pointed out. You looked around for something else to throw at him but the things at your desk were either needed materials or simply too big to just chuck at Tony.

“That doesn’t matter, Tony. It’s not like he likes me anyway, so how about you let him and Cap go on their merry way,” you said dejectedly.

“So you can just keep being the supportive friend?”

“You don’t even like Bucky why are you suddenly trying to be a matchmaker?”

“Because I like you, and you are too damned cute to look that sad about some guy. Especially Bucky. He’s like 90, he’d be a damned idiot not to want you. You could do sooo much better though.”  

“Duly noted, but I still would like it if you didn’t hold Bucky hostage here. He’s obviously not happy.”

“If that’s what you really want,” Tony sighed getting up from his chair, “I’ll deliver the news now.”

“Thank you.”

“Yeah yeah,” he grumbled.

Steve sat on the sofa in Bucky’s room, recalling the events of his talk with Tony, “I think Y/N is giving him what for. She has away of twisting his arm and getting her way.”

“Yeah, she’s something else,”Bucky said fondly. Steve looked over at him with his lips pursed. Only a fool would miss how crazy Bucky was about Y/N. Just the mention of your name could bring a smile to his face. You and Steve became friends shortly after the battle of New York. You worked in tech, fixing his equipment, and the rest of the teams after the battle. He had come to like you instantaneously. Anybody who could make Tony Stark shut up was someone he could be friends with. That being said, if his best friend was going to try and date anyone he didn’t mind that it was you.

“She’s really great Buck, and super nice,” Steve began, obviously talking you up in hopes of actually making Bucky do more than befriend you. You and Bucky became easy friends through Steve, you had a good sense of humor and it made Bucky laugh when he didn’t even feel like smiling.

“Steve, I know what you’re doing. And you don’t have to sell her good qualities to me, I already know she’s great. She isn’t the problem.”

“Then what is? If you know that she’s great then you know that she’s not going to be available forever. Her career might take her away, somebody  might come along, see how great she is and make a move.”

“Then that someone should, they’d probably be better for her… and more her type.”

“What does that mean, Buck?” Steve asked in an exasperated tone.

“Well she’s…”

“African American? Buck, you never had a problem with African American’s not even in the forties, so what the hell are you talking about?”

“I don’t have a problem with her being African American, her skin is beautiful it’s like all the things good in this world put into the richest color.”

“Well alright Hemingway, if it’s not her race then what’s holding you back?”

She might have a problem with me being white. I mean historically speaking, she would have a little bit of a right to it,”he said with a forlorn sigh.

“I highly doubt that Bucky. She’s our friend, it would be a little counterintuitive for her to be so close to us and harbor ill feelings towards us.”

“Being friends and being romantically involved are two very different things.”

“You’ll never know if you don’t ask,” Steve countered, “Worst case scenario she say no and we all continue to be friends.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Sure it is-” A knock on the door interrupted Steve’s sentence. Steve looked towards the door confused as to who it could be. He opened the door and immediately frowned as he saw Tony standing there.

“What do you want?” Steve asked.

“I’d like to talk to you in private for a while. Without the murder-sicle listening in.”

Steve rolled his eyes but stepped out and closed the door. Tony walked away from the door and down the hall.

“Listen,” Tony began in hushed voice, “Y/N has convinced me to let you and your friend skip off into the sunset.”

“Really?” Steve asked skeptically.

“She’s got a good heart and she’s good at persuading me, but there’s a small problem.”

“And what’s that?” Steve figured there was catch it seemed too easy for him to just let them be.

“It’s Y/N, I know you guys are all friends or whatever, but she’s crazy about Bucky. I’m pretty sure sometimes I catch her writing his name with hearts around it on her data. It’s sickening, and kind of sad really,” Tony said more to himself, “If you guys go then she won’t see Bucky anymore and she’ll probably start listening to Unbreak My Heart and crying and I can’t see her like that.”

“…I’ll just let Bucky decide what he wants to do,” Steve said after a moment.

“I know Bucky is into her. I don’t care how scrambled your brains are you’d have to be blind and dumb not to like her. So tell him to stop being a coward and just ask her on a date,” Tony’s tone was exasperated.

“Great, thanks Tony,” Steve’s tone was largely just annoyed now, but Tony did have a point and there was really only one thing to do. Tony went back the way he came, hands shoved in his pockets. Steve went back inside to deliver the news. Bucky looked at him expectantly, wondering what layer of torture Tony was adding now.

“What is it?” Bucky asked when Steve didn’t start talking immediately.

“Tony’s letting you go, says you can come live with me if you want to.”

Bucky’s eyebrows shot up in surprise he had not been expecting that, “What? Really?”

“Yeah… if you want to we can go off to DC… but you probably won’t see Y/N again.”

“Well, like you said she’ll find somebody,” he tried to shrug and be nonchalant.

“Well… you could ask her now…before you leave. And if she says no, which I highly doubt she will, then you’re leaving anyway.”

“What if she says yes?”

“Well… I’ve been looking at places in Brooklyn,” Steve shrugged.

“Fine. What’s the worst that could happen.”

You sat tinkering with program you were looking at. It was the final piece for today’s inspiration. Tony was sitting in his chair again, tossing a ball in the air. He was being tolerable again, and for that you were grateful. You sighed, trying not to think about the fact that Bucky would surely leave and that would be it. Just as the thought began to pull at your heart strings there was a knock on the glass doors of the lab. Both you and Tony looked at the door, startled by the noise. It was Bucky, he looked as beautiful as always. He pointed at you and then curled his finger as if to say, “come here.” You got up and as you walked past Tony he hit you in the butt with a stack of papers.

“Hey, don’t chicken out. Tell him.”

“What? No,” you stopped looking back at him.

“Look at you. Look at yourself, you are gorgeous. Make your ego bigger than your ass.”

“Ha ha,” you rolled your eyes and continued out, “What’s up?” you asked being sure the door closed behind her.

“…Tony has finally decided to let me go off with Steve.”

“Yeah, you must be excited,” you said trying to muster up some kind of mirth to be in your tone. You knew you should be happy; this was going to make HIM happy. However, he didn’t look happy. He looked down at his hands then at you, his eyes tracing up the curves of your body, lingering where your waist pulled in, before they skipped up to meet your eyes.

“I just… I am…”

“But?”

“But, if I leave, we’ll never hangout-”

“I’m sure I can find my way up to D.C. don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine, I want you to be happy.”

“Well that’s the thing. If I leave we’ll never hangout…and I’ll never know what would have come of us.”

“What do you mean?” you had a good feeling about what he meant but you didn’t want to get your hopes up. It would be foolish.

“I mean, that I have to know if…if we could go on a date. I think you’re everything I’ve ever looked for in a friend and a partner and I just… Would you want to go on a date with me?”

You were frozen, you had a feeling you knew what he meant to begin with but some part of you still didn’t expect him to ask, “Bucky, if I say yes what does it matter? If I say yes, you’ll go to D.C. so…”

“If you say yes…I’ll stick around.”

“And be miserable because Tony’s being an ass I don’t think so you’ll be happy in D.C. you should go.”

“I won’t be happy, knowing you would have said yes and I chose to go.”

“I assure you there are plenty of girls in D.C. you’ll be fine,” you grumbled.

“But none of those girls are you… besides I don’t have to stay here here. I can just stay in New York.” he looked at you, trying to predict your answer from reading your emotions as they flicker across your face.

“…Yes, Bucky. I would love to go on a date with you,” you said finally, trying to stifle the smile that’s coming to your lips.

“Really?”

“Yes! I like you alright? I want to go on a date with you.”

He grinned and pulled you into a tight hug, you can feel the excitement radiate off of him. It’s infectious and you can’t help smiling and laughing too.

“Jesus finally!” Tony groaned.

“Shut up Tony!” you yelled.

anonymous asked:

ok idk if its a little too early for a Halloween themed headcanon but maybe,,,,? MJ dresses up as Spiderman for Halloween (to mock him) Peter not ok™

HALLOWEEN SPIDEYCHELLE. high school group costumes are fun, right?? cool. that’s what we get here.

Keep reading

Steggy Fic: Truth

I’ve written a drabble or short fic for every day of Steggy Week 2k17! This was written for Day 6: Quotes, Lyrics, etc. Previous days: Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5

“And you used to be fun!”
—Dum Dum Dugan to Peggy Carter, Agent Carter Season 1: The Iron Ceiling

************
Dum Dum set down his cards with a sigh. “Damn it, you have got to be cheating. Dare,” he added, handing over five rocks to Jones.

Gabe grinned, adding the rocks to his pile. “Fifty one-armed pushups.”

Dum Dum groaned and handed Morita his cigarette. “I hate you.” Considering the amount of bourbon in his system, he thought it was pretty damn impressive that he managed thirty four before collapsing: twenty five with his right arm and nine with his left.

“Is that all?” asked Peggy, eyebrow raised. “I could do better than that with one hand tied behind my back.” She took a swig of bourbon. “In this case, quite literally,” she added. Morita snorted and took a drag of Dum Dum’s cigarette.

“Sure you could,” said Dum Dum, still lying flat on his back. “I dare you.”

“That is not how the game works,” she said smugly, passing him the bourbon.

Karma seemed to be on Dum Dum’s side, however, as Peggy lost five rocks to Bucky in the very next round. She handed them over with bad grace. “All right. Dare.” She sighed. “I’ll have you know,” she said thoughtfully, “this is exactly how I ended up caught in the headmaster’s bedroom when I was in school, holding an armful of his wife’s knickers and his best bottle of brandy.”

“Do tell,” said Bucky, eyebrow raised.

“That would be Truth, and I’m afraid I chose Dare,” said Peggy, with slightly inebriated dignity. Steve, beside her, looked like he was trying not to laugh.

“Fine,” said Bucky. “Do more one-armed pushups than Dum Dum can. With one hand literally tied behind your back.”

“All right,” said Peggy, shrugging out of her jacket. She paused, frowning. “How exactly does one tie just one hand behind one’s back?”

“I’m sure there’s a way,” said Bucky, “but fine, just hold your arm back there.”

Peggy technically only had to do thirty five pushups, but she rarely did things by halves. “You realize you can can stop now,” said Dum Dum, when she reached fifty with no sign of slowing down.

“I’m just getting started,” she said cheerfully. She didn’t stop when she got to a hundred, either, but fought through seven more before she collapsed to the ground, panting. “There,” she said, triumphantly. “One hundred and seven for the 107th.”

Steve bent over her. “You gonna make it, Peg?” Morita pulled his feet back just in case.

“Perhaps I shouldn’t have had quite so much bourbon before accepting that challenge,” she admitted.

Dum Dum snorted. “Or maybe you shouldn’t be such a show-off next time, Carter. Serves you right.”

Peggy sat out the next round, leaning on Steve while she recovered, and Steve, possibly distracted, promptly lost five rocks to Dum Dum. He considered carefully. “Truth,” he said, finally.

Dum Dum scratched his chin, considering. “I’ve always been curious about those USO showgirls,” he said. “You ever get a closer look at what was under those outfits?” He winked at Peggy, who narrowed her eyes at him.

“Sure,” said Steve, “Some really interesting underthings to keep everything in place while they’re dancing.”

Dum Dum rolled his eyes. “Cap, have you ever actually seen a girl naked?”

“Yes,” said Steve, simply. Bucky’s eyes widened.

“All right,” said Peggy hastily, sitting up straight. “I’m back in for this round.” Gabe dealt the cards, looking rather amused.

The dares had escalated considerably by the time Peggy cleared her throat and looked at her watch. “Final round,” she said, firmly. “I don’t want to be the one to explain to Colonel Phillips how you all put each other into the infirmary.”

“Well, it was your idea,” said Bucky, and she made a face at him. The bottle of bourbon was getting alarmingly low, and she’d edged closer and closer to Steve until she was practically sitting on his lap.

Maybe she was distracted, but Peggy lost the last round rather decisively, handing over five rocks to Dernier. She sighed. “I rather think it’s in my best interest not to choose Truth at this point.”

“Dare, then,” said Dum Dum, picking up the bottle of bourbon and waiting with interest to see what Dernier would come up with.

Dernier smiled slowly and said something in French. Peggy raised an eyebrow. “I will need to consult with Captain Rogers, of course,” she said, rather formally, standing up carefully and tugging at Steve’s arm. He followed her into the darkness behind one of the tents.

“What did he say?” Bucky asked Gabe, both eyebrows raised. 

Gabe shook his head, looking bemused. “Not what you’re thinking.”

“What, then?” asked Dum Dum, fascinated. Peggy was already returning, Steve in tow.

“Very well,” she announced, grandly. “We accept.” Gabe’s eyes widened and Dernier smiled.

“What - what did he dare you to do?” asked Morita, cautiously, after a long moment when nobody moved.

“Get married,” said Peggy.

Several jaws dropped. “Uh,” said Dum Dum, carefully, “I know neither of you is good at backing down from a dare, but don’t think this is something you should really be held to once you sober up in the morning.”

“Too late,” said Peggy, grinning. “It’s already done.”

Everyone stared at them. “Is there - is there a priest back there?” asked Dum Dum, finally. Upon further consideration, he thought, he probably should have put away the bourbon a while back.

“Well, as it turns out, we anticipated this request a few weeks in advance,” said Peggy.

Dernier grinned.

“Wait,” said Bucky, indignant, eyes widening in realization. “Stevie, did you get married and not tell me?”

“Possibly,” said Steve, not looking particularly sorry.

“We didn’t tell anyone,” said Peggy, firmly.  “And I hope you all realize how much trouble I’ll be in if this gets back to the SSR.” She looked around the circle of the campfire and smiled. “But, all in all, I’m rather glad the cat’s out of the bag with you lot.”

“You know we’ll never tell,” said Dum Dum, and the others nodded. He grinned. “You were already one of us, Peg. You didn’t have to marry into the group.”

She grinned at him. “Well, getting in with the Howling Commandos was of course my primary objective, but he does have a few good qualities of his own.”

Bucky still looked affronted. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!” He frowned. “How the hell did Dernier figure it out?”

Dernier smiled enigmatically and muttered something to Gabe. “He says it was obvious to anyone with a proper sense of romance.”

Peggy slid her arms around Steve’s neck. “Speaking of which,” she said, cheerfully, “I trust it won’t shock anybody to find Captain Rogers in my tent when third watch rolls around this morning.”

“Oh, God,” said Morita, eyes wide. “I never thought I’d be grateful for how loud Dum Dum snores.”

20crowsinahoodie  asked:

Hi ducky, do you have any tips on how to make a wig cap stay in place? Mine keeps sliding off and that makes my purple hair at work visible...

  1. Right Fit
    First, make sure that your wig cap is a good fit for your head. Some are tighter than others and they can stretch out over time. Make sure you have a snug fitting one. They can also have different size “bands” around the base, I find ones with thicker bands are more secure. 

  2. Pins and Clips
    Hair pins can be used to attach the wig to the hair under the wig but can also be used to clip the wig cap to your hair. This works best with netted caps that have gaps for the pins.

    Some people use toupee clips, sewn into the wig, to help the wig grip the hairline at the front. This may also work for clipping a wig cap in place.  

  3. Wig Bands
    I haven’t tried these out, but they are bands that go around the front of the head and give a surface for wigs to grip on to. It might work to give extra coverage when the wig cap starts to creep back!
     
  4. Touch ups
    Even with a very secure setup, a heavy wig might slide back and with activity the pins might loosen. You may still need to pop into a bathroom to do some touching up.   

(I forgot to add this to my last ask, I’m so sorry!!) Are there any tips on how to make a wig less itchy? 

  1. Wig Cap and Wig Liners
    Wearing a wig cap will create a barrier between the wig and your head, that way it doesn’t rub against your scalp. If the itching is from rubbing then it can make a big difference. Lightweight wig liners give an even thicker barrier.

  2. Crimped Hairs
    Some wigs have crimped hairs along the netting to help give volume, but these crimped hairs can poke through the wig can irritate your head. Looking for higher quality wigs or wigs with less crimping can make a difference if these hairs are bothering you.
     
  3. Gaps
    Wefted wigs tend to have gaps between the wefts, especially at the back. These gaps can allow some of the hairs to poke through and cause itching. You can get wigs without gaps but if that isn’t an option, giving your wig a comb through before wearing and checking the underside for any pokey hairs can help alleviate the issue.
      
  4. Your Hair
    For a lot of people, your own hair can be the cause of itching, especially if you have itching while wearing a wig cap! If you have long hair then braiding or putting your hair up in ponytail can help prevent it from poking you, just make sure the ends are pointed away from your scalp. =For smaller hairs it helps to gel them down or use a bit of hairspray to hold them in place. I have shorter hair and find that putting my wig cap and wig on while my hair is damp relieves the issue. 

  5. Allergies
    It is possible that you could have allergies to either a product used to treat the fibers/ style the wig or even the wig fibers themselves. If you are getting a rash from the wig or other signs of an allergic reaction you should not wear the wig. You can attempt to wash the wig out at home or try different wig fibers to see if it makes a difference. 

  6. Used to it
    Sometimes itching just happens and it gets worse while wearing a wig because you can’t do anything about it! Sometimes it takes a bit of mind-over-matter to ignore the itching and the more you do it the easier it gets. That said, I am not above going to the washroom to take off the wig and give my head a good scratch when I really need to  ;)

Hope this helps!
Duckie / Admin

“Sea” - Suga x Reader

Request 1: Can I Send a requests for a scenario with Yoongi Where He Never believes that would Fall in Love with someone at First sight but then He Meets you , a solo Idol who just made her debut and has a Beautiful Voice ? 😍

Request 2: Could you please write a scenario based on bts song sea with suga ?

Notes at the bottom.

Originally posted by jeylovestoblog

Sea

Angst? ¦¦ just over 2k word count ¦¦ changes in POV’s; hope they’re clear

Yoongi was no romanticist. He didn’t believe in just wanting to spend the rest of his life with someone he just met. He didn’t care for rom-coms nor dramas. Let what happens on screen stay in there and focus on reality.

But sometimes, the lack of a romantic interest in his life made him feel… empty. Don’t get him wrong, he loves being an idol and adores the fans that helped him become successful, but there was never time for him to get real with people. In the past four years, he hasn’t been able to go out so freely and meet and socialise with people and get to know them personally. All there was were meet and greets with people he would probably only see once or maybe twice in this lifetime.

“Hyung, are you okay? You’ve been staring at that screen for a long time. Shouldn’t you take a break?” Jeongguk asks, concerned, snapping Yoongi out of the trance he was in.

Yoongi had been sat at the desk in his studio for most of the day now, the door wide open for air. Every time Jeongguk had walked past this half hour, he couldn’t help but notice the unchanged state of Yoongi’s gaze attached to the computer screen, next to no change in the position he was sat in, either. With no one else around at the moment, Jeongguk guessed it was his place to do something, anything.

“Sorry, yeah, maybe…” Yoongi apologizes, looking away finally from the screen. “I just have some things on my mind I guess…” he admits, shaking his head to snap out of his trance.

“Do you need to perhaps talk about anything?”

“I don’t wanna inconvenience you Jeongguk…”

“I have some time to spare.” Jeongguk tells his elder, taking a seat next to him in the spare chair. “Just let it all out, hyung.”

“So you won’t mind listening even if it’s all sappy talk?”

“Just speak, hyung.”

Yoongi swivels his chair around to face Jeongguk next to him and figures he should just go ahead and say it. “I guess sometimes it would just be nice to have that someone special in my life. You know me, I’m not usually an overly emotional kind of guy when it comes to romance, but… there’d just never be time whilst I’m an idol, you know… falling in love. That firstly is definitely the most complicated part. It can take years to get to know and love someone before dating even begins.”

“So you don’t believe in love at first sight then hyung?”

“Most definitely not…”

“You’ve never just looked at a girl and fell in love?”

“Nope.”

***

This had to be the most exciting time of your life. After all this hard work, it could finally be paying off; you’re this close to finally debuting! Singing has been your life ever since you can remember, and you can barely remember dreaming about doing anything else with your life. You auditioned for an agency at the first chance you could get, and you became one of the fortunate ones that have made it this far.

The initial plan was that you were to debut as part of a group, but due to complications with members and other planned bands under the label, it had resulted in just you as a solo idol ready to make her appearance. Admittedly, it was the most nerve-wracking idea for you, that you should be doing this alone, but you’ve been working hard with the agency’s team, and this is actually a really rewarding feeling.

Years of training and months of non-stop work towards your first single… What does the future hold for you? Only time can tell, so you focus on the moment. It just so happens that this moment involves you about to walk onto that stage, where you will be broadcast to the nation, even the world if anyone out there chooses to tune in.

You can’t lie though. The reception in the lead up to your debut has been somewhat shaky, simply because of you being a foreigner. You’d been through it all; 3 survival shows, people that you’d been working with and built relationships with dropping out, getting cut off, and even one backstabber. This live broadcast meant so much. You have to get it right.

You take a deep breath in, and step on to the stage, ready to promote that song.

***

“Let’s just watch some TV or something hyung; you’re working too hard” Jeongguk insists, showing Yoongi out of that damned studio and into the shared living area in which the younger turns the TV on.

“M Countdown?” Yoongi questions.

“Sure, why not?”

And that’s when Yoongi heard something spectacular; what a beautiful voice! It’s hypnotic! The vocals flow so smoothly and the tune is so melodic! But he’s never seen this idol before, which makes him curious.

“Who is that Jeongguk?”

“Oh, that’s right! You don’t watch that many survival shows, do ya?”

“Um, no I guess not”

“It’s that trainee that me and Jin hyung ranted about for weeks, remember?” Jeongguk prompts. “Because she got treated unfairly, we said.”

“I see” Yoongi hums, unable to take his eyes off the TV screen despite engaging in conversation.

Yoongi doesn’t pay as much attention to rookies and debuts as some of his other band members do, to immersed in his own world trying to help create the band’s next creditable piece. Suddenly, though, he wants to know more. This girl has completely mesmerized him and caught his attention.

“So this is her debut?” asks Yoongi, his heart fluttering as the girl reaches an impressive high and long note.

“Must be” Jeongguk replies. “I did hear some rumours that they’d finally be debuting her this month.

“Crazy” Yoongi says.

“Huh?”

“I thought there would’ve been more hype than just rumours, that’s all” Yoongi coolly shrugs, trying not to give away this sudden wave of emotions being elicited from him through this girl’s singing.

“She’s good, right?” Jeongguk smiles

“Yeah…” the elder sighs. “She is…”

*****

“What do you mean they’ve dropped the contract?!” you exclaim down the phone, halting in your steps down the street.

It had been some weeks now since your debut, with high praise for the quality of your live performances… on the other hand, you can’t exactly claim the best of sales for your first single. But that must be expected, right? No rookie has debuted with a chart topper for at least 5 years now, so it’s become practically impossible.

What you weren’t expecting was this phone call, mid stroll to inform you with this piece of news. Note, this was your first bit of time you’d been able to have to relax in for ages with your heavy schedule to promote both yourself and the single.

“You’ll still be with the agency, y/n, just not to go through with the album…”

“Until when?” you ask, still a tiny bit hopeful that they might have just pushed back the date or something.

“I can’t give you an answer on that; I’m so sorry y/n…”

This was not happening. It couldn’t be. You have to take a detour from your planned route, not wanting the tears to seep out in public in a strange town.

***

Yes, it was extremely difficult to navigate around such a small country without being spotted. But Yoongi had his ways to keep on the down low at this point, having trialled and errored many a time the various ideas he and his band members came up with for subtle disguises. Funnily enough, all it takes it seems is a simple cap over a natural coloured wig and a face mask to hide most of his distinguishable features.

Today, he just wanted to shop like an ordinary person for a few essentials, to treat himself in a roundabout kind of way despite only having bought ramen, a couple of fresh notepads with pens, some deodorant that seemed like a good idea, and some sweet treats.

There’s this old shortcut that he used to take back to wherever it was he lived during his trainee days, and for some reason felt drawn to the idea of taking a trip down memory lane. Expecting to just take in the surrounding a little and observe the changes, what Yoongi didn’t anticipate was the sight he saw: a girl with her head bowed down, sat on a bench across the pavement from where he now finds himself standing still.

“This isn’t happening to me… I thought they were a more caring agency, that’s why I chose to audition for them! All they’ve done is treat me like rubbish since I joined, bar the training which I’ll admit has changed me for the better, but…”

“Maybe you should just hang in there y/n; maybe they have something else in store for you… You did always say you wanted to be part of an idol band than solo; that’s what you even told me when back when…”

You had resorted to phoning a close friend, unable to hold back your anger and not shoot the messenger. Even as you’re on the phone to her now, the doubt comes seeping in more and more; the fact that you still have a personal phone, like the agency couldn’t have cared less if you had ruined things for yourself by having relationships that could interfere with your potential career.

Still watching the upset girl, Yoongi is unable to move away, especially when the girl looks up finally, trying to find a distraction from her thoughts in her surroundings. She barely registers the presence of the stranger nearby, nor does she bother to care why said stranger appears to be staring into thin air and not doing anything in particular.

He is sure that he has seen this girl somewhere before, but he can’t get a clear enough view of her face as she uses her sleeve as a make do tissue for the tears that threaten to stream down her face. As he tries to catch a proper glance, the lack of visual information allows him to pay some attention to the conversation since he can hear her words more clearly than he can see her face.

“I know that’s what I said” you tell your friend, interrupting the rest of her sentence. “But at this point, I really can’t help but believe this is some sort of wild goose chase… It’s like I’m seeing a frickin’ mirage; it’s there, but not quite real, and the mirage is being provided by them…”

Eventually the girl that Yoongi is trying to discover reveals her face, having managed to slow down the flow of tears. He knows instantly who she is; she’s the girl from the TV that he became mesmerized by… not that he told his band mate Jeongguk who he was sat with at the time… not that he told any of his band, at that.

He’s most definitely picked up the point of conversation being held by the kind of stranger girl and feels disheartened. He’s been there, working hard a persistently to achieve his dreams and he could only imagine how that would feel to have the opportunity and hope right under his nose and then pulled away from him. Was this company for real? Were they deaf? Her voice was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard… and Yoongi barely keeps a keen ear out for singing usually.

If only there was some way he could help… Wait, should he even help? He’s never spoken a word to this girl before, so why would he even care? He figures it may be something to do with his dislike of just watching pure talent go to waste, but something is telling him it’s not solely that; he doesn’t listen to the next few lines the girl exchanges with her friends, taking in her features that he find extremely pretty despite the tears and puffiness caused by the upset.

‘Aish Yoongi, stop being so lame…’ he thinks to himself. ‘You’re going mental, probably from all these years of focusing on work; it’s nothing… Why do I want to say something to her?’

Involuntarily, Yoongi’s feet begin to move slowly one in front of the other. ‘Is it weird to approach her? What if there’s cameras around?’ Nonetheless, he continues walking because he can’t deny his caring nature. ‘You know, she’d excel if she’d have joined our place… Huh.’

“What do I do?” you plead to your friend. “Every time I think I’m gonna make it and be able to swim in that ocean of idols, I just… I always end up so alone!”

“Come audition for us” a voice interrupts, causing you to look up and then render you speechless on your end of the phone call.


MORE: Fiction Masterlist


I’m terribly sorry if this is highly inaccurate but I guess it’s an au so as long as it make sense, I hope that’s all that matters [tbh I’m not sure if idols even debut on M Countdown, I just chose a program I could think of at the time]… I mixed an old and a newer request and I must apologize to both anons, especially the first one, for taking so long. I also applied the song to the reader’s situation than Suga’s, if that makes sense as it fitted and helped me greatly with writing the rest.

Heartbreak Love

PAIRING: reader x Steve Rogers

WORD COUNT: 2.2k

WARNINGS: Angst, swearing. 

Request from Anon- Hey love :) I hope I can request an imagine with Captain Rogers where you’re an avenger and fall in love with him but then you see him kiss Sharon and leave the Scene heart broken. What you don’t know, Steve also fell in love with you and the kiss with Sharon didn’t mean something to him. Back at the facility Wanda informs Steve that you left and he immediately tries everything to find you and tell you that he wants to be you to be his one and only? <3 that would be really lovey :) & his POV maybe. 

So this maybe a little it emotional, sorry about that! I haven’t done a an angst in a while, Enjoy (may need tissues idk?) 

GIF NOT MINE:- imagine without the blood mainly for the expression! 

Originally posted by harrleyquinzel


Being in love was one of the most beautiful and once in a lifetime feeling. Nothing compared to it, it was euphoric the feeling was indescribable, to know that another loved you just as fiercely and passionately as you did. To know that they would do anything for you, risk their life you even. Well that’s what you had been told love was like. No one ever told you the feeling of unrequited love, the love that pierced your heart each time you looked at them. The devastating feeling knowing that they would never love you as much as you ever loved them. It was soul destroying, but addictive. 

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Distraction

summary: Steve is trying to be responsible while Tony does everything to keep him away fro being responsible.

A/N: It’s been a while since I have had the time to write, and I had fun with this one. This is pre Civil War, established Stony. Just some fluff to make you all smile! :)

aaah, classic Stony <3 Thank you for this sweet fanfic!!

———

Distraction by @pleasantlyjovialfun

“I need those reports by tomorrow, Rogers”.

Fury’s words echoed in Steve’s head as he left the room. He had been in the same damn room for three hours, listening to Fury bark the latest orders and attempt some sort of semblance with a room full of tired agents. Normally, the meetings were held at headquarters in Washington DC, but since most of the agents present had been on assignment in the city, Fury had decided to hold it in NY.

 It wasn’t Fury’s fault, really. It was nearing the end of the month, and this was the time when SHIELD usually planned for the next upcoming month, so a longer than usual meeting couldn’t have been helped. He could have done without the report that Fury had nonchalantly dropped in front of him as the meeting was adjourned, though.

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