static cloud

Poem 403

My muse lives within another’s head
But I know her stream of casual thoughts
Can so attractively fill my silence

If only I had a direct connection
And not this fussy wireless
That fades away in static
With every passing cloud

I remain a frustrated voyeur
Stuck below the tidemark
Of the black ink of joyous transcription
Awash in frothy white nothing

2

Prop Hunt

Mark, Jack, Bob, and Wade

You watch with delight. You missed Prop Hunt. Everything is going as normal, laughter and jokes flying back and forth until something goes wrong with Jack and Mark’s facecams.

“Hey uh… guys, I think my camera’s dying.” 

“Same. Weird. I’ll be right…”


g̢͉̟̟ͥ̌̒ͦ̃ͣl̨͍͖̬͉̣̮ͮ̾͝t̬̪̪̯͈̉̊ͬͭï̙͍̳̩̎̏̒ͭ̇ͯ͝c̶͔̫͚̹̹̲̯̃̋̓͠h̸̯̭̜̖ͬ͌͊


Another face appearing in Mark’s facecam, taunting smirk overlaying a clueless Mark, Jack disappearing in a cloud of static only to reappear in.. Wade’s? But no, that’s not Jack… Bob frozen, picture distorted, Wade is GONE.

The screen goes black. You sit in shock. 

The screen suddenly explodes with color and movement, voices through your headphones making you jump.

“TrUCe… R͕͉͎̬̭̰̞̓͝͞ẽ̞̥̹̼̟̾̒͊̀v̫̞̪̲̂ͬͤ͋ͪ̚͘ͅe̹̺̟͍͈̳̽ͨ̊̈́ͣ̍͐̂̒n̸̛̺̖̝͍̝̠ͭ̿̋͌ͣ̚g̢̳̠̘̠̦ͧͮ̕͜e͓̺̿̆̍̊̾̽̈́ͬ̉̀… L̓͊҉͓̼͎̻̖Et’s pl͈̰̯̪̠̖ͧͯ͠ͅaͬ҉͘҉̞̤̝̥̜ͅY.”



Based off a text submission by @markiplitessepticeyes to @markiplierswhatifs. Inspired by a few of @markired‘s wonderful gifs. 

Holy. Shit. This edit consumed my brain. I’ve spent the last 3 days working on it, at all hours, and even had multiple dreams about working on it long after I want to sleep. 

Also, excuse my questionable writing. I wanted this to be a gif but then I thought how cool it would be as a video edit. But after staring at Premiere Pro for about 5 hours, I fled back to the safety of Photoshop and made what you see now. A tiny bit of written narrative to make up for what’s missing with visual cues.

(Gifs take from: S̺͍͉͔͉̞̪Ḁ̸̰̮͝Y̶̪ ̳͇̭͍̥̭͉ͅG̕҉̡̦̲O̤̫͖͎̗͜͞ͅÒ̴̬̠̺̪̥͉̳͉̥͝D̨̺̦̯͙͙͔̯͚͠B̸̬̻̝͉͍̻̀͝Y҉̫̝̖̹̝̠͠E̲̩͟͝ͅ,  HORROR. and THE MYSTERIOUS SCREAMING TRASH CAN ¦ Prop Hunt #41)

7 times they noticed. (1/7)

(bc I need to make up for the langst I posted last night so here’s so comfort and a little bit of hurt. This is just Shiro’s, the other ones will be up soon. The only warning is a depiction of a panic attack.)


1. Lance winced as Shiro cut into him with words like he was expertly wielding Keith’s bayard. He would’ve found it funny how dad-like he was being, except: a) probably would cause Shiro to bail him out more, and b) it wasn’t very funny at all.

“Don’t you see how childish you’re being! This isn’t just serious, this is a matter of life or death, and your antics cannot get in the way. At the end of the day, do you want to be responsible for someone’s death?” The question sent a wave of nausea through Lance, and he was almost pulled off his feet by a wave of static that clouded his mind as something inside his chest burst. He grabbed his chest in alarm. His breathing was quickening. His chest was on fire. Oh god. Oh god. He curled inwards. Trying to protect himself.

“…” He tried to speak but no words came out, just harsh breaths as he lent against the wall, staring upwards through tears at Shiro who was frozen in fear.

“…Lance? Oh. Um… fuck.” If Lance was in any state of mind, he would have never let Shiro go for swearing in front of him, but as it was, it made Lance’s breath speed up. Shiro approached him like he would a possible hostile alien, slowly and with his hands outstretched. “Okay, Lance, if you can, put your arms around me and follow my breaths. Is that okay?” His voice was low and non-threatening, and in response Lance nodded slowly. His hands shaking as Shiro sat next to him, putting his hand on Lance’s arm. Shiro started taking audible, slow breaths. Lance winced as this effort made his breathing uneven, alternating from barely controlled slow breaths to shaky shallow ones.

“Thanks.” He choked out. Shiro shook his head.

“Don’t talk, just focus on the breathing.” Lance had enough humour to roll his eyes at him, and melodramatically breathed in and breathed out, causing Shiro to laugh, before his smile melted into a concerned frown.  “I’m so sorry Lance.”

“Don’t be. You’re right, of course.” Lance looked down, not willing to meet Shiro’s eyes.

“Just because you were goofing off doesn’t mean I should have said that. It was way out of line. I just –” Shiro trailed off.

“I’m scared too.” Lance responded quietly. “I know. I know that this is a life-or-death thing, but I just can’t think about it. I’m not like you, or Keith, or Allura. I have to distract myself. If I think about for one second someone else dying on my account I just –” Lance’s breath started to quicken again, and Shiro stopped him, beginning the audible intakes and exhales of breath once more. Lance found his voice again. “You’re good at that. Unsurprisingly.”

“Well, thank Coran actually.” Shiro smiled as Lance scoffed. “No really, apparently they’re quite common for Alteans as well as humans. I still get them occasionally, but they were really bad when, you know…” Shiro trailed off before gathering his thoughts once more. “Listen. Are you alright?”

Lance laughed nervously.

“Yeah, of course buddy, don’t worry about it.” He patted Shiro’s arm, got up from the ground and started to walk away when he felt Shiro’s metal arm on his shoulder.

“Really. We all deal with trauma differently, and I’m worried. These coping mechanisms are all fine and good until they start hurting you and other people.” Shiro was staring down at him and Lance shrunk under his worry. Of course Shiro was worried about the others.

“I’m really sorry I’ve been a pain.” He laughed, rubbing the back of his head in a mockery of sheepishness. “I’ve been distracted but don’t worry, to quote our lord Efron, I’ll get my head in the game.” Shiro’s frown did not disappear. “Seriously, dude, don’t worry.” Lance smiled.

“Just, if you need to talk, please do. Whatever problems you have are important, not just for the team’s performance, but for your health as well. Okay? And if you can’t talk to me, talk to Hunk, or Pidge, or even Keith.” Shiro insisted, gesturing emphatically as Lance rolled his eyes. “Please.”

Lance’s face softened, his mask melting away.

“I’m just so scared. What if I never see my family again?” His already tear-filled eyes began brimming once more. “And I’m so scared that I’ll mess up everything, I mean, how the hell can I compare to you guys? Keith’s an amazing combatant, Coran and Allura are the best at strategies, you’re a great leader, Hunk’s an awesome engineer, and Pidge is just a genius!” Shiro stared at Lance as tears spilled down his cheeks.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t notice.” He pulled his hands over his face. “God, and I’m supposed to be the leader.” Shiro straightened up, looking at Lance. “I can’t express how sorry I am. I forget, I suppose, that you’re children. But know we’re all terrified; and know that we couldn’t do it without you. Because your joking does help, Lance, it breaks the mood and reminds us why we’re fighting - for our humanity. You’re important.”

Lance stood in shock. He wiped the tears off his face.

“Gosh Shiro, you’re such an old man!” He started laughing.

Shiro crossed his arms and stared at Lance. His frown didn’t reach his eyes.

“Come on you youngin, we’ve got training to do.” He walked out of the room, shaking his head. Lance smiled. Maybe things were alright, even if he was just saying it to pacify him. Still. It counted.

perhaps.


Read the other parts:

(nb as of 6/4/17: Hunk is up (along with the Shiro and Pidge ones) others will follow! Edited to flow better, thanks to the anon who mentioned it.)

(nb as of 7/4/17: Coran is up!)

(17/4/17: Allura is posted!)

(this is platonic btw please do not tag as shance or anything similar.)

Theatrhythm Final Fantasy Cloud Strife Static Arts Mini Figure

I know this figure is a few years old, but today I received my TFF Cloud figure, he’s really cute! I’ve wanted him for a very long time.

Look who’s come to greet him.

They’re both happy to be reunited. I think it’s very cute that this Tifa figure is a little taller than Cloud.

But they better be wary…

…Sephiroth is watching them.

Several years ago I used to take lots of photos of my FF figures, I’d like to get back into taking photos of them again and posting some of them here on Tumblr.

Season 5 Blarke Headcanons to Break Your Fucking Soul

I started writing these after the spoilers so I guess a few are canon already but whatever. This is what I’ve been crying about every night and screaming at @octanakin whenever she’ll listen. Join me in pain. Also, I know @asweetdeception told me to make bullet points sooooo…. 
Oh and feel free to use any of these for a fic, just tag me so I can cry about it!

Blarke

  • Bellamy finding Clarke’s cell while looking around the Ark (I don’t care if it’s not on the ring let me live) and finally breaking down when he sees her art, sobbing and repeating how sorry he is for leaving her
  • Clarke keeping a tally of how many days they’ve been gone on the wall (its already canon this hoe is did that™)
  • Every year on the “anniversary” of losing Clarke, Bellamy sits by that window, looking down at Earth and has a drink for Clarke.
  • And every year he tells her he still misses her and he should’ve told her he loved her when he had the chance.
  • Similarly, every year Clarke sits under the stars and tells Maddie stories about the boy in the stars and their struggles on the ground and how he’s coming back for her one day.
  • One night, Raven finds him sitting in Clarke’s cell, staring at the wall. They sit all night and talk about Clarke and Finn and how you never really get over losing the person you love.
    • ***I wouldn’t be surprised if they started something but just know i don’t want it because then they’ll use it as lazy writing to add tension to blarke in s5 and raven deserves better.
  • She talks to him on the radio every night, even if he can’t hear her. She says she wishes they had more time, they deserved more time, and when he comes back, they’ll get it. (again ALREADY CANON. kinda)
  • She doesn’t even know if they survived up there or not, but she believes in her friends, and she believes in Bellamy.
  • What neither of them know is that ALIE is still up there and she’s the one preventing her radio signal from getting through.
  • The first year was the worst for Bellamy. He had nightmares almost every night and was irritable with everyone until Raven sat him down and told him this isn’t what Clarke would’ve wanted.
  • Clarke’s wall is covered in pictures of her friends, so she doesn’t forget what they look looked like. But there’s more of Bellamy than anyone else. 
  • They were supposed to go back after 5 years.
  • He was supposed to come back for her after five years.
  • On the sixth year that Bellamy has a drink for her, Raven joins him and they talk about how great she was. How much she loved them, and how hard she tried, and how proud she would be of him.
  • On the sixth year without him, Clarke lays in the grass, looking towards the stars, and wonders why he isn’t back yet. Because he’s not dead, he can’t be dead. She talks to him like he can hear her. She asks him where he is, like always.
  • As Bellamy and Raven share memories and drink, the radio at his hip suddenly goes off. At first it’s a cloud of static. Then, he almost catches a voice.
  • Clarke cries.
  • They stare at each other wide eyed, and scramble to hold the radio closer. They think they catch a woman asking “where are you?” Then the radio goes quiet, like she was never there. Bellamy doesn’t realize he’s shaking. He whispers her name. (highkey this is how i want the s5 premier to end even if the finale kinda trashed it idc this is my dream)
  • Clarke imagines a night where she does hear his voice talking back to her. It’s how she gets to sleep.
  • They don’t sleep for 3 days trying to find the radio signal again. They don’t.
  • Nobody else believes him. They don’t think they should try to go down yet. It could’ve been anyone. Maybe he just heard something, he was drinking.
  • “I left her once, I’m not leaving her again. If there is even the slightest chance that was her voice and she is still alive down there, WE ARE GOING BACK.”
  • Raven has his back though and says they’re going to get her because she’s a true hoe *sunglasses emoji*
  • Personally, I’m thinking that ship is the mining colony everyone freaked out about in the articles, but I’m also totally on board for our delinquents to be with them, because I’m impatient.
  • When she sees him again its like he was never gone. He steps forward and his hair is just a little longer, he’s got more wrinkles around his eyes. But it’s him.
  • When he sees her after 6 years its like seeing a ghost. Her hair is shorter and skin is dirtier, but then she smiles at him and its her.
  • They crash together and it feels like those six years never happened. They’re both crying and holding each other as close as they can get and he’s whispering apologies in her hair and she’s mouthing forgiveness into his shoulder. 
  • He immediately bonds with Maddie and Dad Mode™ activates. (Boy’s been in space without kids around for like 6 years, he’s having withdrawals)

Delinquents

  • Emori gets pregnant and Murphy loses his shit because he’s not ready for that. Have you met him??
    • Uncle Bellamy is always there to help though
  • They make contact with the mining colony around year 3. There’s a sassy, headstrong captain thats got a thing for our own Raven Reyes (male or female i don’t care someone just come along and put my girl first) and Bellamy won’t stop teasing her about it.
  • Eggs is still trying to get into Bellboy’s pants and he’s still having none of it, but he oddly enough finds her easier to talk to, since he doesn’t really give a fuck about her opinion.
  • Monty finds Bellamy at the window one night and they both make a toast to their fallen friends. Bellamy tells jokes about all of Jasper’s pranks. Monty laughs about how everyone used to call them Mom and Dad. 
  • Bellamy gets hit in the head one day and gets selective amnesia where he forgets he ever had a sister. No one reminds him because they all hate her too. Bellamy is finally free of the white devil.
  • Its basically a hot mess the first month and Murphy won’t stop making jokes about drinking Bellamy’s piss.
  • Emori and Eggo are still amazed by everything 24/7
  • Raven takes on Emori as her new best friend and apprentice and they like to tease Murphy about being a shithead. I just want Emori to be friends with all the delinquents and finally have a family. (But Raven most of all.)
  • Harper is the first delinquent to try and actually befriend Eggo because she’s a ray of sunshine and its awkward at first, but they’re cool now.
  • Monty helps the mining colony grow weed and then he smokes one out for Jasper.

Anyway, that’s what I’ve been crying about. Probably add more as the hiatus goes on, and I cannot stress this enough THESE ARE HEAD CANONS. WHILE I MAY REALLY WANT SOME OF THEM TO HAPPEN THIS ISNT ALL SPECULATION OR A DONE DEAL. THIS IS JUST WHAT I IMAGINE TO AVOID THE TEARS. So plz don’t come at me telling me I’m being unrealistic, I know I am. 

Super Strange Things

Chapter Two: Not Exactly the Scooby Gang

Pairing: Eventual Johnathan Byers x Reader

Summary: Y/N Winchester, middle child of John and Mary Winchester, arrives in Hawking’s with her family to investigate a series of disappearances and hearsay of a strange, faceless monster, along with a girl who can supposedly move things with her mind.

Warning: Warped time line. Also its long af

Tagging (If you would like for me to tag you in the upcoming chapters, please feel free to message me): @yoursmilemakesmeloveyou

Keep reading

how many times can you let hands go before your smile is a memory of circles lacking inspiration? how many times can you close your eyes until those tears become an extension of every goodbye you’ve felt in the sunrise orbiting the off chance your skin will be touched by rest today? baby, growth doesn’t happen when you sing a familiar tune to the backhand of time, why are you still exchanging laughs with the rain like summer can still recognize the way your letters don’t hold us tight anymore. don’t you know the stars dance into the way you say it’s okay, restricting another potential to curve the backstroke across the ripples we’ve created? these photographs may only speak of better moments as long as we’re continuously looking for familiar static in every cloud, but she’ll always love like a summer night - cold, and full of promise

Silver Silence Part 9

Pairing: Bucky x shy enhanced reader

Summary: Bucky finally finds himself able to live at the compound with the team, but finds it difficult to repress his feelings for his new very shy and gentle teammate.

Word count: 2,044

Warnings: Swearing as always

NOTES: feedback is really appreciated, sorry it took a while and sorry it’s a lot of information.

“Miss (y/n), Mr. stark requests your presence in the conference room immediately.”

A voice jerked you out of a blissful slumber, one filled with fantasies of how tonight’s date would go with Bucky. You groaned and rolled over, peering at the red screaming numbers of the clock.

7:13 am

“Tell him I’m on my way.” You mumbled back to the AI, luckily though he caught it and left you at peace. Your voice sounded slightly scratchy and robotic, as if static was clouding the used to be clear audio that was your man made voice.

You lazily stumbled out of bed, throwing on the nearest clean- or semi clean- shirt and pants and made your way down to the conference room.

When you arrived, all the avengers stood like a pack of wolves around a table, pointing angrily at different areas on an electronic map. It wasn’t long until tony noticed you, and spoke up, earning the attention of all other heroes. “Morning sleeping beauty.”

“Good morning.” You replied, but your voice had gone almost completely robotic, causing your hand to shoot up to your throat in worry. Everyone’s eyes were wide and concerned; all except Tony’s who simply smirked.

“Ah, I was afraid this would happen.” He pulled a small box, almost resembling an altiode tin out of his pocket and opened it, taking out a small chip. “Not to worry, iv thought of everything, as usual.”

He walked up to you and without warning, turned your head, moved your hair, and plunged the small square behind your ear.

“I created this little port back here for upgrades, that way surgery isn’t always necessary.”

He stepped back and motioned you to try it out.

“Thanks tony.” You tried, and it was clear, yet it seemed all eyes were still wide on you. “What?” you asked.

And that’s when you heard it, it wasn’t your voice, it was Tony’s, clear as day.

“Please don’t tell me this was your intention, when you said you updated her software.” Steve mumbled.

“Tony! What happened, did you give me your voice!” you shrieked.

“Calm down, calm down. No, although I’m sure you’d love that.” He hurriedly tried to explain. “Think of someone else; think of their voice, their tone.”

“What do you mean think of someone else?!” you yelled in frustration, and your sure if anyone closed their eyes they would think tony was having an argument with himself. “Why?!”

“Think of someone else, someone’s voice, just try it.” He pleaded.

You furrowed your brows but then began thinking of the first person that popped into your head. Unfortunately between your worry and anger that person was still Tony, and you had to force your mind to navigate to another individual.

Your mind went straight to Bucky, you wanted to pretend it was because he was staring at you from across the room, eyes turned in concern, but you knew it was because he was always on your mind.

He was like malice on cheap wallpaper, he was always there and his presence, his thought, his being clung to your mind. You concentrated on his voice, its low hum, its warm vibrancy, and you found yourself captivated.

You mumbled and stuttered until actual words formed, and luckily not a robotic, or stark tone.

“I swear to god if you don’t fix this-“you stopped abruptly. Your voice, it was exactly how you imagined it. It was Bucky’s voice, crystal clear, so much so that a few members of the team looked back at Bucky to be sure he hadn’t said anything. His eyes were wide and his face was drawn into an almost awe struck expression

“There you go!” tony cheered.

“Now what! I want to sound like me!”  The tone of your voice was still low, and you had to remind yourself that Bucky wasn’t actually saying anything.

“Just think about your normal voice it’s not that hard.”

You huffed and forced your thoughts on your own voice.

“why did you make it this way in the first place.” You questioned, surprised to find your voice in its normal tone.

“You lost your powers.” He sighed, and then quickly continued as your eyes narrowed. “- which was a good thing for your health and all, but it made you pretty useless on the field.”

“I was never on the field anyway.”

“Yeah, yeah I know, but I had always planned you to be, you’re a smart kid, I want you to be with us out there.” He paused and fished a small remote device out of his pocket, “here, this will hopefully help with all the controls, the thinking part is more of a last result.”

You took the remote from his hands, and peered down at the light up touch screen.

“What could I even do with this on the field?”

“Your new vocal cords allow you to copy anyone’s voice that you hear. This will be perfect paired with a little hand to hand combat training from Natasha.” He glanced at the red head, who glared at him, then back to you with a smirk. “you can talk to an opponent, get his vocal frequency, take him out, then easily talk through his comms.”

He looked damn proud of himself, only causing Steve’s annoyed expression to deepen.

“and what if that ‘opponent’ is speaking a different language.” Steve interjected.

“Oh!” he grabbed the device from your hands, and fiddled around with it after typing in four different security codes. “There, speak.”

You felt like a dog but did anyway.

“Jo të bisedoni me mua si im një qen.” You covered a hand over your mouth.  (“dont talk to me like a dog”)

“Kjo eshre ajo qe gjuha!?” (what language is that?!)

you where sure that no one could understand you, so its not as if questions was effective, that is until tony looked down, seeming to be reading something.

“uhhh- Albanian.” Tony stated.

“Ndryshoje ate perseri!” (change it back!)
he again looked down at the screen. scanned it and began typing.

“better?” he asked
“god i hope so.” you responded.
He handed you the device again, then began to walk out the door. only then did you notice to translate audio controls he was using.

“We’ll use you on our next mission, try to practice with it from now until then.” He was followed by Steve, Natasha, Thor and Wanda.

You stood there, glancing towards Bucky then back down at the screen in your hands.

————————————————

That night you spent almost 4 hours picking out the right outfit. You finally settled on professional looking white blouse and black slacks. It was hard to except comfort in wearing a dress, especially for how fragile your body used to be, instead you decided you’d slowly work up to that.

After doing your makeup and hair, you went down to the common room and found Bucky waiting patiently on the couch, his body lined in kaki pants, and a navy blue dress shirt. When his eyes locked on you, he stood.

“Y-you, I uh…” he stuttered, “You look amazing.” You blushed as he then rubbed the back of his neck and quickly grabbed his gray blazer from the back of the couch. “Are you ready?”

You nodded meekly.

It was a funny thing, being so nervous around him, you’d kissed him before, talked to him plenty, and he took an unusually fast likening to you. But still you felt butterflies in your tummy and simultaneously  felt those butterflies flap their wings of fire to cause it to churn.

Nervous, yes that’s what you still are. The whole way there, clinging to Bucky’s arm, and the entire time you waited to be seated.

And then, you weren’t.

You were flying on cloud 9, staring into pools of ocean and laughing with the sound of liquid gold that poured from his mouth.

“You really broke 6 bones while trying to play tennis?” he chuckled.

“Yeah well I was an hyper child.” You replied, but then he stopped for a moment, thinking.

“(y/n)?” he asked softly, peering over the candle light as you pressed a glass of wine to your lips.

“Hmm”

“What happened before Tony found you.”

You coughed; choking on your drink and feeling some pour down your chin, but quickly wiped it before it could touch your blouse.

“Sorry, I’m just curious, you don’t have to-“

“No, no. it’s alright Bucky.” You cleared your throat. “Id start at just before they took me in but it probably wouldn’t make any sense.”

“Start were ever you’d like”

You smiled.

“When I was little my dad was always a little… worried, about me.” You gulped. “More so then most parents, but out of anything I think in a way.. He was scared of me.”

“Scared of you?” Bucky questioned.

“My mom died, when I was born. But the doctors never knew why. And I think in a way he blamed himself… but even more he blamed me.”

You took a deep breath and let it out through your mouth.

“As I grew up, he started to notice my frail state. I broke bones so often a hospital room became like a second home, and as such my father spiraled down into debt.”

“So he did the only think he could think of.” You looked up at Bucky, his expression hard and concerned. “He put me up for adoption.”

“How… how old where you?”

“Ten.” You smiled. “Ten, and id already broken every bone in my body at least once.”

“I was an active kid, I loved sports, I loved dares, but when I was put into that home, I was on lock down. A couple times even in a padded cell.”

The waiter came to pick up menus, asking about choices and smiling sweetly at you. But Bucky didn’t remove his eyes from your face, he was frozen.

“Did you ever….” He trailed,

“No. I never got adopted. I was there from 10 to 18 and not once was I even allowed to be interviewed.”

You gave a humorless laugh.

“Defective, that’s what they’d call me. So I felt I needed to prove to them, and my father I could live on my own.”

“So I left, an 18 year old with no money, family or friends, and I got a job.”

This time you laughed, you laughed in good heart and watched Bucky smile softly at the sound.

’Terry’s seafood.’ I always smelled like tuna and grease. But I found a little apartment, and I lived, I lived and I didn’t break a single bone for 2 years.”

“What happened?”

You shook your head.

“The third year wasn’t bad. Minor injuries., the 4th and 5th was just bad relationships and insomnia but the 6th … I was in car crash, broke so many bones I was in the hospital for months, and when I got out… I was so far in debt, so lost in the pile of rent, that I couldn’t get back up.”

The food finally arrived, but being so engaged in the conversation, neither of you began to eat.

“The whole year before Tony found me was hell. I lost my job, my home, everything. It was like a nightmare, because I finally saw my dad in myself. Not even I could deal with me. I was so much baggage; I couldn’t even live with myself.

“And… the blast?” Bucky wondered. But he had the most heartbroken look on his face. One that he got when he wanted to say something but couldn’t. And you knew him well enough to know that it was probably something to contour your inner turmoil.

“I broke my leg.” You wiped a hand down your face. “I broke my leg, and I had no house, no job, and a mountain of debt, I couldn’t go to the hospital, but I also couldn’t walk, which means I couldn’t find food. So I was angry, I was livid. Why me. Why did I have to carry around this burden of glass skin, and then… I just kind of lost it.”

You poked around your plate with your fork.

“I didn’t mean to do so much damage Bucky… I really didn’t.” you mumbled.

“Well I’m glad you did.” He chuckled.

“Why?”

“Well… because we met.”

Permanent tags:

  @barricadechap @barnesandnoble13 @soldierplum

Silver Silence tags:

@avengershavethetardis  @dingo-ate-my-baby-crazy666 @loveyourselfcreateyourself @marvel-is-my-life2099 @ipaintmelodies @killer-stiles @chipilerendi @ladymelissastark  @iamwarrenspeace

@melconnor2007 @imagine-that-100  @axelinchen  @illiter-ace   @damnbuckyishot  @ladymelissastark @fab-notfat

CH 7 - Friends in Strange Places

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The air was cold and still as Marvin walked through the darkness. He strained his eyes and ears to find any signs of life. He finally caught a glimpse of a small ray of light ahead of him and rushed towards it. As he got closer he noticed it was a door cracked just far enough open to allow a thin ray to spill out.

He reached forward to push it open and heard a small sound on the other side. It sounded like crying. He ran through ready to help but froze when he saw the source of the noise.

A few feet ahead of him was Schneeplestein, collapsed on his knees, head in his hands, fresh blood smeared across his white coat.

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anonymous asked:

"i'm tempted to write fic where reader beats the shit out of penny" I need it man, I need it

i’m so glad i wasn’t the only one who needed this, haha

warning for child death

You glare up at the clown, your blood boiling in your veins. His mouth is stretches in a smirk, hands locked around your wrists, pressing them down hard against the stage. His knee rests immovable between your thighs.

“Let me go,” you rasp between gritted teeth, twisting your wrists within his grip. 

Pennywise grins, blood smeared across his painted lips. You flinch as a drop falls on your cheek, wet and still warm from the body lying still in the stagnant water just a few feet away. 

“Let you go?” he asks, giggling as if you’d just told a swell joke. His eyes flash golden in the dim, dank light. “You wanted to see, didn’t you? Isn’t that why you’ve come? And now you turn your face away?” He releases one of your wrists to grip your chin, fingertips digging into your skin as he twists your head, forces you to look at the body in the water. You jerk against his grip, but it’s no use. 

Look,” he growls, his voice losing its childish glee. 

Your vision blurs as you stare at the body, eyes wet with fear and anger. Blood stains the water around it, spreading sluggishly as the body cools. The clothes it wears are tattered and riddled with claw marks, and nausea swells in your stomach. Jesus, it’s just a kid.

“Got your fill?” Pennywise crows, jerking your head around to face him again. He bares his teeth at your tears. “Did I sate your curiosity?” His head tilts, lips parting to reveal his prominent front teeth, stained red with viscera. You shudder as a toxic mixture of blood and drool drips down his chin. “Or did you want more? More than to see?” His sulfuric eyes trail down to your lips, and your stomach curdles. “I wonder, do you want a taste, too?”

His face lowers to yours, and a cloud of static fills your head as you watch his lips, his teeth, all smeared with the blood of the kid he’d just slaughtered, his breath hot and reeking of gore.

You react without thinking, jerking your arm down and raking your nails across his face with all your strength. His head snaps to the side, four jagged scratches trailing from the corner of his eye to the edge of his mouth. 

You hardly breathe as black ichor spills from the shallow wounds, not seeping down his cheek but drifting up, disintegrating into the air like wisps of smoke.

His eye rolls down to look at you, his head still twisted to the side, and you burn at the mockery within that golden gaze. 

“What claws you have,” he simpers, voice high-pitched and trembling in mock-fear as he reaches for your hand. He purses his lips at the black stains on your fingernails. “What a fierce little human you are.“  

Your face burns in humiliation at his ridicule, at the sheer insignificance you feel as you lay there beneath his bulk, subject to his whims. A tool for his amusement. 

"Let me go,” you choke out, voice tight with anger. With hate.

Pennywise smirks down at you, presses your fingers to his unmarred cheek. “Make me.”

Your vision blurs as rage fills you, tightens your limbs until you ache with the force of it. You hiss and jerk your hand from his grip, raking your nails across his cheek, across his nose, across those bloodstained lips. His hand slackens around your other wrist and you wrench it free, your fingers throbbing as you scratch and claw and tear. Cool, cracked greasepaint sheds beneath your nails, black ichor filling the air like clouds of dark fog, and in the midst of your rushed breaths and the rapid pounding of your heartbeat, you hear it.

Laughter.

You jerk your hands away from the clown’s face, watching as his body shakes, the bells on his costume jingling. Ragged scratch marks and deeper gouges decorate his face: the rounded end of his nose, his bottom lip, his wide brow, all bear the marks of your nails, black blood staining his white face and drifting almost lazily into the air.

But his grin remains the same, broad and razor-sharp, his laughter loud and manic, echoing in the cavernous space of his lair.

He’s laughing at you.

You scream in outrage, red coating your vision as you push at his chest, rolling your hips to dislodge him from you. He goes without a fight, eyes wild and rolling as he screams with laughter, and you press him to the stage floor, climbing on top of him, curling your hands into fists as his wide, red smile fills your vision.

You strike with a ragged cry, knuckles glancing off the sharpness of his cheekbone, rattling your bones, but you don’t care, you just keep swinging, again and again and again, your breath punching from your chest in broken gasps.

And always, always, always you hear laughter, that fucking laughter, high-pitched and wailing in your ears, low and crazed and rumbling through your legs, your belly, your chest, the body beneath you trembling with it. 

So fierce,” you hear in your head, colored with that same manic laughter. “So terrible! So strong! So scary!”

You scream, your hand reaching, grasping for anything you can use; your fingers close around a broken pipe, thick and coated in rust and grime. It makes a hollow ringing sound as you swing it, striking flesh. You swing and you swing and you swing, sweat pouring from your brow, muscles screaming. And yet Pennywise’s laughter seems to grow, ringing so loud in your ears your head buzzes with it; you rain blows down onto his chest and face, again and again and again, over and over and over -

Just shut up just shut up just shut up - ! you think, tears of pain and exertion pouring down your cheeks. Just. Shut. UP.  

You bring the pipe down one last time, crying out as pain lances up your arms, your fingers falling heavy and numb from the handle. 

You peer down through wet, blurry eyes at the clown, your chest heaving, breath rattling in your throat. Nausea swells thick and sour on your tongue at the sight of his face, his chest, the blood spilling into the air. One of his eyes lays in a film of blood within the ruin of its socket, the top of his skull caved in and spewing ichor. Your nails had carved divots across the expanse of his face, and you swallow back bile at the hints of teeth you can see poking through his torn skin. 

And yet still, still, he laughs, the sound bubbling up from his throat in rasping shrieks, his belly shaking beneath you, bells ringing. 

“So scary,” he whispers within his cracking, crackling gales of mirth, his ruined eye rolling in the pit of its socket. 

You push to your feet with a broken sob, the whole of your body throbbing as you fall from the stage and stumble away from the clown, your shoes splashing up stagnant water. Your hands are bleeding, your fingers numb and swollen, and your shoulders scream in agony as you run - away from the body in the water, away from the stage, away from the clown.

Pennywise’s howling laughter follows you out of the sewer. It follows you all the way home.

Please Don't Breathe

ho boy another choking hc
words: 1.6k
warnings: degradation, swearing, choking, little bit of ddlb, bad writing??
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phil was done. so completely and utterly done. dan had been acting like a god damn brat for the better part of the entire year and phil was quite sick of it. he understood dan was going through some shit, but he had started taking it out on phil, yelling and throwing things and barely even willing to be in the same room as him and phil was fed up.

today just so happened to be both dan’s worst day and phils breaking point. phil had apparently ordered the wrong type of pizza and dan was going ballistic. “you can’t even do one thing right, can you philip? guess you’re just too fucking stupid,” dan yelled, pointing at him with the fork that was still in his hand.

“dan i told you, i’m sorry. i didnt realized you didn’t like that kind anymore,” phil said gently, trying to be rational and not let his temper get the better of him.

“god you’re so fucking stupid! maybe if you weren’t so god damn stupid maybe you could do one thing right!”

for some reason, this was phils breaking point and his last ounce of patience burned away. he stood up and walked towards dan, backing him up against the corridor wall. “what the hell did you just say to me?” he asked quietly, menacingly, coming closer to dan so that they were almost nose to nose. “i must’ve misheard you.”

dans eyes widened and he swallowed thickly. he didn’t actually expect phil to get angry at him. still, dan was stubborn and also a bit stupid so he stood his ground. “i said, maybe if you weren’t so stupid, maybe you could actually do something right.”

a growl tore from phils throat and he surged forward, pressing his mouth harshly against dans, pinning his wrists to his sides. the kiss was full of anger and fire and hatred and all the pain phil had felt this year swirled together. dan immediately kissed back, the taste of phils mouth so intoxicating after missing it for so long. teeth were hitting together, lips bitten, pressed so close together neither could really breathe. phil let go of one of dans wrists and slid his hand up over dans torso and chest, up to his slim neck, wrapping his hand around the pale column. he squeezed harshly and pushed down to pin dan against the wall more. a small whimper pushed from dans mouth, because the feeling of phils hand on his neck was so fucking delicious. phil pulled back slightly, his hand still resting on his neck.

“you’ve been such a god damn brat lately,” phil whispered angrily, pressing harder on either side of dans neck, cutting off his airflow slightly. “i’m sick of it. someone needs to put you in your place, don’t they?”

“then do it,” dan replied, looking phil in the eyes, his voice a bit weak from the hand around his throat. “put me in my place.”

phil didn’t need to be told twice. he immediately rushed forward and connected his lips with dans, his hand squeezing harder on his neck. their lips tangled together with bruising force that had both of them panting quickly. dans hips began to rut forward into phils, his cock hard and leaking because god the way phils hand felt on his throat was so fucking good. phil pulled back and his hand left dans neck, eliciting a whine from dan.

“shut up, or i’m going to leave you hard and begging for my cock,” phil growled as he moved his way to dans pants, undoing the button and sliding them down along with his boxers. “take off your shirt,” phil commanded as he stepped back and pulled off his top along with his pants and underwear. “lie down, face up, hands above your head,” he commanded once more, and once dan had done so, he placed one knee outside of dans hips and slotted his other thigh in between dans legs and braced himself on his hands. phil dipped his hips down against dans and dan let out the most beautiful whimper phil had ever heard.

“you like that baby? you need my cock so much don’t you?” phil growled softly in dans ear, earning a buck up from dans hips again.

“please p-phil fuck i’m sorry j-just fuck me!” dan begged, his voice ragged and full of desperation.

phil snarled and wrapped his hand around dans throat. “don’t fucking tell me what to do, you whore.”

the hand around his neck forced a strained whimper from dans mouth and he arched his back. “h-harder, please phil please,” he whined softly.

phils eyes widened and he felt his cock grow fully hard, pre cum dripping lightly from his tip. “oh you like that princess? you like having my hand around your throat, owning you?”

dan nodded vigorously, moving his hands up to cover phils and press down harder. “please phil, i-i need more,” dan begged, his voice strained from the lack of oxygen.

phil pressed harder, watching dans face flood with red and his eyes roll back into his head. “fuck baby, look so pretty like this,” phil groaned as he started rolling his hips onto dans again, eliciting another raspy moan from dan. phil loved having his hand around dans neck and vice versa; it gave each the feeling of ownership that they were longing for, that they had been missing so terribly these past few months. when phils hand was on his throat, squeezing, cutting off that delicious oxygen, he could barely think straight because it felt so fucking good. in all of his sexual endeavors, he had never found anything like phil choking him that could get him so close so fast.

“p-please phil ah daddy! close s-so close!” dan whined, moving his hips in time with phils.

“already baby? what a little slut, getting off on just my hand around your throats and the littlest bit of friction,” phil said patronizingly, bringing one of his hands down to dans needy, leaking length, swiping his thumb through dans slit and stroking lightly. “come on baby boy, cum for daddy like the little slut you are.”

dans mouth opened in a silent scream as phil simultaneously squeezed his throat harder and ground more roughly onto dan, making dan cum so hard he shook. it seemed to last forever, his back arching and his nails scrabbling for purchase on phils back. dans vision clouded with static as he came down from his high, his breath ragged and his head spinning.

he tapped phils arm to get him to let go and phil instantly lifted his hands off of dans neck. dan instantly took a gasp of fresh air and each intake stung his sore throat. phil looked down at dan, who was an absolute fucked out mess, and felt his cock twitch interestedly.

dan saw phils reaction and smirked softly. “give me five minutes and i can help you with that.”
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this took like a week for me to write lolll anyways send in prompts and shit if ya want