streets from the past

After The Storm

Originally posted by https-blossom

Request: can you do a sad fic where the reader is trans, (ftm) and they come out with unaccepting parents, so he gets kicked out of the house and winds up on the street. Mark and ethan drive past him and pick him up from off the street and basically they bond. and give the reader a place to stay

You guys can probably tell I wanted to work with metaphors and imagery in this fic cx hopefully I wrote the perspective well, as it is my first time writing from this pov too. Also, I think this fic is more of a bittersweet fluff than sad? It just kinda turned out that way >> sorry!

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Tags: @kourt-kay @bananakid42 @themarkiplierexperience  @let-it-go-and-live-again  @skarletton  @totalwhovian if you want to be on the tagged list,  just message me and it shall be done!



     The night was far colder than you expected it to be; it was as if their harsh words and disapproving stares hovered over you like a storm cloud that was ready to strike you back into submission and self-doubt again. Their lightning bolt words stunned your heart as the thundering yells numbed your ears, you tried to ignore it all. You tried to push through and wait until the magical day that they either accepted their ‘daughter’ was never here to begin with, but rather their son always was. And as much as you wished that would have been your reality, it wasn’t. Instead, your magical day was when you finally stood up to them, showed them that you’re proud to be who you are and proceeded to leave that hurricane household.

     You were so happy that you finally could lead your life without them weighing judgment, so happy that you could be free.

     Although, you couldn’t ignore the fact that being away from your parents, also meant you were without a place to stay.

     You thought about asking some of your friends, but you end up going against it, believing you’d end up becoming a burden to them- even though you knew they would tell you otherwise. For the time being, you’d be on your own, you weren’t sure where you were going and nor did you really care. You earned enough money that you were confident you’d be okay food wise and if you really wanted to, possibly stay at a cheap hotel until you’ve decided on a plan.

     Until then; however, you would walk the concrete streets of Los Angeles with your duffel bag over your shoulder. The city was an Ice Queen at night, beautiful yet cold and uninviting to those weak at heart and in spirit; while you wished you could enjoy life simply in the present you were in and with the great step you’ve taken in the right direction with it, the looming future had its hold on you, flooding your mind with all the ‘what ifs’ that were the last thing you needed right now.

     A heavy sighed passed your lips and while you walked down the desolate street, your only source of light was the stars and moon above you along with the few street lamps. Your legs grew tired and you took a break on a nearby bench that seemed like a haven; somewhere you could relax and take a moment for yourself after having walked so long. Sitting down, you let out a breath you never knew you were holding in to begin with- your bag slumped off your shoulder and it allowed your body to rest, comfortably leaning into wooden panels behind you. It might not have been the coziest situation, but you were thankful nonetheless. And against better judgment, you shut your eyes, letting them rest after such a long day.

     It isn’t until a bright yellow light shines through your eyelids; you thought it would disappear, but instead, it lingered and soon you were able to pair a voice with this light. “Hey… You alright, kid?”

     The voice was kind, refreshing to your ears after all the bitter and hate filled words it heard earlier that day. It held concern and it was sincere, truly curious and worried as to whether a complete stranger was okay or not. His voice was gentle, and without another thought, your eyes opened once again to find the owner of such a caring voice.

     He sat inside of a small, silver car whose paint job reflected the light from the street lamp- which only added to the beams of light that already shined in your eyes. You found yourself falling silent as they waited for a response, unsure of what to say or do, wondering if you should even do anything at all.

     After a brief silence, another voice piped in and that was when you notice the younger man beside the driver, a small smile made its way onto your lips when you noticed his bold blue hair. You couldn’t hear what they were talking about, though you assumed it was about yourself because soon enough the car was put into park- your eyes widened and you could feel your heart start to race. Despite their soft and welcoming tone, you knew it’d be foolish, and possibly dangerous, if you didn’t be at least a little bit cautious. You reached for your bag as you anxiously awaited their next move.

     It was the blue-haired lad who spoke next, you watched as he exited the car, the ravenette soon to follow. His voice was a bit higher than the other’s, but he gave off the same friendly vibe and you knew that he could see how you were on edge about trusting them. Which was completely understandable, they were strangers after all. “The stars always look better out here, don’t you think? There are not as many lights to… uh, what’s the word… Oh! Pollute the sky, so you can see a lot more.” He sent you a smile and unable to stop yourself, you returned it.

    They got closer, slowly but progressively, and continued to talk about random small things around the three of you. A few laughs were shared between the duo and with each passing second, the storm of anxiety, fear, and doubt began to clear in your mind. By now, you knew they had no ill will towards you, if anything, it was the opposite.

     Eventually, the ravenette sat beside you on the bench- setting his elbows on his knees and giving you a lopsided grin, “One day, I would love to be able to rocket myself into space… just so I can explore, even if it’s dangerous. I just really love space,” a chuckle slipped from his lips and his warm brown eyes caught your own, “Do you like space?”

     For the first time that night, you decided to respond to them, relaxing into your seat and looking up into the night sky. It was serene, the calm after the storm.

     “…I do… I was always curious about it, too,” It was a simple response, but from that the three of you found yourselves talking as if you were old friends. It was an energy you quickly grew fond of, one that was simply infectious. So when the conversation started to dwindle and turned to a more serious tone as you started to explain your situation. You were hesitant to at first, but they assured you there wouldn’t be any judgment, that this familiarity around you all would remain; with that, you felt comfortable in telling them all that had transpired earlier in the day.

     The clouds in your mind cleared as you let it all out, a therapeutic sensation followed as each word fell from your lips, a refreshing, renewing rain helped to heal your mind for that moment. It wouldn’t be able to heal it all, but it was a nice start and if you would be able to continue talking to them like this in the future, you knew you would be okay somehow.

     “And so… Until I have enough to rent an apartment or something, I’ll probably be staying at motels or shelters. Y’know? Just save up the most I can and then I can blow this town,” You chuckled bitterly, a hand running through your locks and shutting your eyes as you dream of smokey French cafés in your future. C'est parfait, non?

     The one who you had come to know as Ethan spared a glance to Mark, the ravenette, and they shared a knowing nod. A mutual agreement formed. “You know,” Mark started out, “I have a spare room at my place. If you want, you can stay until you get back on your feet again and-”

     “No, no, no, no. Thank you very much for the offer but, that’s too much. Really, just talking with you two has been helpful enough.”

     “Think of it as a really personable and private hotel-”

     “With the sweetest golden dog ever!” Ethan made sure to point out, Mark nodding along with the same enthusiasm.

     You sighed and bit your cheek, you felt like you’d be imposing yet… It would be a lot better than not knowing where you would sleep each night. And who could resist an offer that involved the chance of meeting a new dog? You were still hesitant all the same and you had a few questions, but if the opportunity was possibly a timed one, you didn’t want to miss it. “I… If it really is okay, then I guess it would be alright- but only until I get the money for an apartment! I can also pay rent, clean, cook, or… well, okay, I can’t cook. I burn everything, but I can do the other two things!” You adamantly assured, determined to give back if you were to take their offer.

     A tan hand was held out to you and a soft laugh rumbles out of the ravenette’s chest, “It’s a deal then.”

     You smiled and soon found a light laugh leaving your lungs too, you shook his hand and glanced between the two lads, “Yeah… It is. Thank you, really. I don’t know if I can ever show how grateful I am for this but I’ll try.”

     Ethan placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder and his beaming smile greeted you, sending a bolt of joy through your heart as you finally felt like the last of the storm clouds had run their course and all that was left was a peaceful silence as the sun showed itself again. He gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze and brought you out of your trance with his kind words, “Don’t worry about that for now, instead, just let us help you the best we can, okay?”

     They say there’s a certain tranquility when a storm finally ends it fit; how the calming stillness would bring comfort to those who endured its tyranny. The precious melody of the birds returning alongside the sun: a fresh start born from disaster.


If you enjoyed, please leave a comment, like, and maybe reblog! Everything you guys do help to motivate me and I always love seeing/replying to these things! :)

LGBTQ+ Movies of 2016: Part 1

First Girl I Loved

Seventeen-year-old Anne just fell in love with Sasha, the most popular girl at her LA public high school. But when Anne tells her best friend Clifton - who has always harbored a secret crush - he does his best to get in the way.

Heartstone (Hjartasteinn)

A remote fishing village in Iceland. Teenage boys Thor and Christian experience a turbulent summer as one tries to win the heart of a girl while the other discovers new feelings toward his best friend. When summer ends and the harsh nature of Iceland takes back its rights, it’s time to leave the playground and face adulthood.

Teenage Kicks

Seventeen year old Miklós Varga’s plans to escape his migrant family and run away with his best friend Dan are crushed by the accidental death of his older brother Tomi. Only Mik knows the events that led to this tragedy, and he is suddenly forced to navigate his guilt and explosive sexuality to find the man he can become.

The Handmaiden (Ah-ga-ssi)

1930s Korea, in the period of Japanese occupation, a new girl (Sookee) is hired as a handmaiden to a Japanese heiress (Hideko) who lives a secluded life on a large countryside estate with her domineering Uncle (Kouzuki). But the maid has a secret. She is a pickpocket recruited by a swindler posing as a Japanese Count to help him seduce the Lady to elope with him, rob her of her fortune, and lock her up in a madhouse. The plan seems to proceed according to plan until Sookee and Hideko discover some unexpected emotions.

Being 17 (Quand on a 17 ans)

Damien lives with his mother Marianne, a doctor, while his father is on a tour of duty abroad. He is bullied by Thomas, whose mother is ill. The boys find themselves living together when Marianne invites Thomas to come and stay with them.

Don’t Call Me Son (Mãe Só Há Uma)

After discovering the truth about being stolen by the woman he thought was his mother as a child, Pierre (AKA Felipe) must deal with the consequences of his mother’s actions and must try to cope with his biological family.

I Love Her

A young street musician girl must conquer her own fears and ghosts from the past, including the social influences of Ukraine, where she has grown up, in order to admit her feelings for a beautiful deaf-mute girl.


A timeless story of human connection and self-discovery, Moonlight chronicles the life of a young black man from childhood to adulthood as he struggles to find his place in the world while growing up in a rough neighborhood of Miami.

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

The Temptation of Voices

Originally posted by xopsychogirlxo

A/N: Bucky Voices Soulmate au.

Everybody was born with a soulmate. It was part of everyday life. There were shows dedicated to the meetings and ensuing romance and passion between soulmates but not every part of the situation was good. Once your soulmate was gone you didn’t get another one and living alone outcast you from society. Everyone lived in fear of the day the voice in their head would disappear forever.

You lived in fear of losing your soulmate. Watching your mother deteriorate into a barely surviving shell after your father was killed in a car crash left a streak of fear that chased off any loneliness. You dreaded the day you would meet the voice in your head because you knew once you fell you’d never manage to crawl back up.

Over the years you’d perfected tuning him out and lived a life like that of your best friend Minnie. She’d lost her soulmate at the tender age of eleven and had just gotten along with her life. Your voice was usually silent anyway, well it had been for over two decades until around six months ago when you’d started hearing a low gravelly voice commenting on your everyday life. It was unsettling to say the least, especially because it was so sweet. The temptation just solidified your resolve to avoid him at all costs. Losing him would kill you.

You were locking up the coffee shop you owned after a busy day. It was just down the street from the former Stark Tower and got a lot of tourist business. All those strange people who liked to sit outside and watch the doors hoping to catch a glimpse of one of the avengers. Personally you’d never seen the appeal but that may just be because in the battle of New York your cute little shop had been blown to pieces. You were allowed to have your bias though especially when you’d actually met Tony Stark once and the experience was less than pleasant.

He’d come into your shop a few months before he went missing and ordered everything on the menu just to spite his friend. When you and your girls had finally finished running around and getting all of his drinks set out on the counter he’d just smirked and raised a brow at his friend before throwing a wad of cash on the counter and strolling out empty handed. It wasn’t the arrogance that pissed you off, it was the disrespect towards you and your staff that made you swear you’d never serve him again. Apparently he’d changed but you were sceptical. A douche of that proportion would never change.

You set off walking to your apartment glancing around instinctively. It was still early evening but it was too quiet. Goosebumps raised along your arms and the hair on the back of your neck stood up. Crossing your arms, you began to walk faster. Something didn’t feel right.

What’s wrong? His deep voice sent shivers down your spine. You crossed your arms and marched on ahead determined to dismiss him and the silly notion that something was wrong.Look I’m sorry for whatever I did but I can feel your fear. If you’re in danger please just tell me. I can help. You snorted to yourself in derision. Who did he think he was? You didn’t need some knight in shining armor to save you from the chilly evenings of Manhattan. It’s a dangerous city doll. That didn’t change. You just carried on forward, at least until you saw someone move out of the corner of your eye. You grabbed the compact from your coat pocket pretending to check your makeup whilst looking behind you. A few men were stood talking together. Looking at you every now and then. This could not be happening. This sort of thing only happened to idiots who went out alone at night. You sighed with a scowl.

Shit. What? I think I’m being followed. Fuck. Where are you? You weighed the risks for a second then thought: I’m not telling you that, who the hell do you think you are? This is not the time for misplaced pride Y/N, please just tell me where you are.

Sweat gathered at your temples as you flitted between your choices. Put yourself at the risk of getting half of your soul torn away or see what what would happen if the creeps behind you caught up. It won’t be anything pleasant doll and I’ll have to hear it all through here. I can’t bear witness to you getting hurt. You looked behind you before you made your decision and saw one of them smile at you with full teeth. His eyes were dead.

You bit your lip as your resolve hardened further. I’m just passing Star-Avengers Tower. What?! Really? Go inside right now. Your brow furrowed at his tone but you ducked through the rotating doors anyway. All of the gimmick stores and odd shops were closed but you walked over to the cafe in the corner anyway and sat down on one of the uncomfortable metal chairs left out. The receptionist gave you a funny look but continued with her work. Figured, she must be used to a lot of weird shit happening around here. Oh, you have no idea.

You watched the windows to see if your stalkers would walk past but the streets were empty apart from the odd straggler getting into a cab. It was actually more unnerving having them out of sight.

Suddenly a large man in workout clothes vaulted over security and ran towards the doors. He was beautiful in a rugged sort of way and you couldn’t help but be transfixed by his long dark hair swaying with his movements. You didn’t even process the metal arm until he spun around and scanned the lobby. His eyes finally landed on you but you were staring at his arm. The place where it met his skin looked seared and painful. That must’ve been excruciating.  It was. Your eyes snapped to his in shock.

“James!?” You shrieked in disbelief. He nodded and walked over to you with a strange sort of cat like grace. You noticed his footsteps made no noise. At all. “How-what-are you kidding me?” You sputtered. “What are you doing here?” You looked him over again “Dressed like that?”

He pulled up a chair and sat opposite you perfectly composed. “I live here doll.”

A/N Part 2 

Part 3

@c2ndy2c1d jack and johnny watching a scary movie

YOU GOT IT BABE. I have this weird au headcanon that Jack went back to the past–but only to Johnny’s timeline, and he’s stuck there. So I ran with it. Sidenote that I know it’s canon that Johnny is “afraid of very little save for clowns” but for my purposes he get spooked by anything “scary”

There was a strange sense of exhaustion weighing heavily over Jack’s shoulders as he stepped through the threshold of his and Johnny’s small apartment. 

Keep reading

How The MBTI Types Know What Others Think or Feel or WTF Going On With Them

[ Maternal Instinct/Paternal Instinct/Sisterly/Brotherly Instinct ]
No one can truly fathom this metaphysical power they possess. So omniscient and ambiguous. Like the Force. And the power of love. Or some stupid shit people make up. For some absolute reason, they just KNOW. Might even know you more than you know yourself. Probably even watching over you from a distance, regardless if physical or not, (supposedly via Facebook stalking or Twitter) like a guardian angel or like family. Family that bakes you sugar puffs and heals your booboos while secretly applying reverse psychology against you so you’ll unconciously tell them what’s wrong without you being aware of it. You can’t simply fool them for nothing escapes them, they will know sooner or later, ‘cause that’s love, bruh. Not necessarily have to be your mom but applies to a friend acting like a mom. Perhaps, the team mom/dad/babysitter. They are the ones people approach to vent out and seek solace, love and comfort. To give a healing space to the emotionally damaged and be harsh when the situation calls for it, probably to stop you from doing anything stupid. Might even be the reason you haven’t got yourself killed yet. They don’t need a superpower (despite my exaggeration of calling it a metaphysical power), to know whats in your heart because they trust you’ll always tell them. And you always trust you can rely on them to protect your deepest darkest secrets until the end of time.

[ Sherlock-Scan ] -
With their powers of deduction and clear observation, these types get terrifyingly good at reading people by noticing minor details not immediately obvious to others. From the state of one’s clothes to the subtlest of verbal cues and body language - they can apprehend the motivations, state of mind and even the life story of their subject. Sometimes, to people they just met. They’ve sharpened this ability through sheer experience and hard work, enough to impress anyone. An archive of random information in their head allows them to interconnect completely unrelated things in order to give accurate predictions on behaviors. Its as if they’ve been hardwired to scan people around them and understand them. However, these types may give less regard to “feelings”, because really, who gives a shit? Emotions can interfere with introspection and rational reasoning, which could throw off necessary data. Feelings? ‘Ain’t got time for that.’ ( Okay, maybe like 5 minutes but thats it. ) This could make others view them as skeptical assholes but out of all the types, they make the best bullshit detectors. They sense bullshit from a mile way.

[ Empaths ]
Whether its a science fiction power or not, empaths know how to get into people’s heads. Like psychic mind reading, its a creepy and eccentric ability possessed by specific people, either developed or in-borne. These empaths synchronize with the mental or emotional state and energies of others, sometimes unconconsciously and consciously. Weirdly enough, even with fictional characters. Courtesy of their ability to put themselves in other’s shoes and due to their their inquisitive nature to be curious about people - empaths have this heightened intuition, often acting like a telepathic radar, which allows him/her to read into a person’s situation and get on the same wavelength and frequency. Being great and inviting listeners, they sense the words behind words, and can even sense hint of sadness in one’s eyes. By accessing relatable past experiences and their own knowledge pool, empaths get a good grasp on how another person perceive things and mirror it. If you’re one. Its about to feel what they feel. To tap into their past, comprehend their desires and motivations, then simulate in your mind what the experience is like. Sometimes, even mistaking the emotions of others as your own and turning into a sobbing mess, if one doesn’t learn how to filter and gauge the unneeded negativity. Whatever empath you are, either cognitive or emotional, you have a way with connecting to people. This mystical intuition is both a gift and a curse. Otherwise you’re just an asshat who loves to mindfuck people and act like a nosy bastard.

These types get hunches but instead of believing them like the idiots above who rely on ‘feelings’ and educated guesses, they actually research to validate and confirm the acquired data yourself. For field research is their preferred area. They question. They interrogate. They investigate. Do background checks. Get skeptical. They connect the dots and do their research for the sake of unraveling the truth. Thanks to their cleverness, whether its street smarts or knowledge acquired from past experiences, they know their way around every crack and crevice in this world. All the patterns and how certain situations plays out. Thats not even mentioning their vast network of connections. They know people. And if they don’t know people, they’ll seek them out. There is a need for clarity and direct confrontation to every mystery, that is, the person they want to know more about. A certain thirst for the truth, to know things themselves and get to the bottom of it. If these people feel like being badass, its shoot first, questions later. If not, ‘cause shooting people is actually illegal, there’s always the internet to know whats behind a person’s actions and words (I’m looking at you, INTP.) In the end, they will always sniff out the truth. Did also mention they’re pretty persuasive?

Despite falling under one of these categories, it doesn’t mean you can’t be the others too. With enough practice and creepy obssession with psychoanalyzing people, you’re on your way.


@cobaltmoony needed some fluffy Bucky and cat.

Well… there’s Bucky and cat..

He’d had so many names over the years (many years, far too many years). The Fist of Hydra. James. The American. The Asset. Jerk. The Winter Soldier.

Once, he had even been Bucky.

He still is, according to Steve. Steve who has lived too long, and has his own string of names trailing in his wake. Captain America. Steven Grant Rogers. Stevie. Star Spangled Man with a Plan. Punk.

Steve is still Steve, he may even be Stevie. He’s not Captain America anymore, not since the Winter Soldier appeared at his window, metals fingers pressed to the bullet wound in his stomach, scratching at the glass to be let in, like some kind of stray animal.

Steve, Stevie, still had no sense of preservation. He should have closed the blinds and left the thing that had tried to kill him months ago bleed out on the fire escape. But no, he wrenched open the window and dragged the assassin into his home (for fuck’s sake Stevie).

The Winter Soldier had bled all over the bedsheets, and as far as anyone was concerned died there, leaving a ghost.

The ghost of James Buchanan Barnes.

Steven Grant Rogers, Stevie, Dumb Punk, gave up his shield. He had picked it up to save Bucky once, and put it down to the same ends.

They didn’t so much live as warily co-exist in the apartment, on the corner of a street both familiar and strange. They had lived there before, Steve told him, but the building got torn down and they built a new one. Best thing for it, Bucky had said. The old one was a death trap. His mouth did that sometimes, opened up and words spilled out, unexpected and sweet and bitter. Like a head full of firecrackers, memories popping and snapping and if too many went off at once it made him flinch. Made him shiver and tuck himself into the smallest. darkest corner of the apartment, like a stray animal.

So Steve filled the refridgerator with the kind of things the ghost used to eat. Filled the shelves with books that the ghost used to read. The apartment was never silent, a radio in the kitchen, the volume turned low, played big band and swing and jazz, things the ghost used to dance to.

Steve was always so damn stubborn.

Baby steps, the therapist said. Small victories.

He’s killed presidents, and now he’s supposed to feel pride when he walks downstairs to get the mail. He’s brought down governments in a single night but barely manages three stops on the subway.

But it’s worth it, worth all of it and more to see the way Steve lights up when he comes back upstairs with the mail and announces the mission suffered zero casualties. When Steve’s hand wraps around his on the crowded subway and squeezes.

So he walks down to the corner store for milk when they run out, and eats at least once a day, and all the other little things that keep the furrow in Steve’s brow from running too deep.

And he doesn’t punch through the metal side of the dumpster when it starts rustling.

He had managed to pick up orange juice from the store. Not the nearest one just across the street from the apartment, but a bodega two blocks away. When he walked past the dumpster down the nearby alley (old habits die hard and he’s more likely to enter Steve’s apartment by the roof than the doors on the ground floor) it rustled at him and let out a pathetic whine.

Bucky had lifted the lid and found the cat.

The thing was not much more than a scrap of fur and fleas. He had no idea what colour it was, its coat dingy grey and matted. It still had a mouth on it, giving him a half-hearted hiss as he pulled it out of the garbage by the scruff.

The Ghost stared at the cat, and the cat stared back. Then bit his finger.

He offered it a metal fingertip and it bit that too, not even slightly dissuaded by the way it’s teeth skidded over the metal plates.

For the first time in seventy years, Bucky smiled.

The bodega stocked catfood, though Bucky had no idea if the cat preferred the wet stuff in cans or the dried kibble in boxes, so he bought both, the cat safely zipped up in his jacket, it’s flat little head poking out. It’s oversized ears swivelled back and forth as Bucky held out a can of chicken chunks in gravy in one hand and salmon pieces in aspic in the other and told the cat to make up it’s damn mind.

“Mrrr,” the cat said finally, which Bucky chose to interpret as ‘both’.

He pays for the items and walks back out onto the street. The cat makes itself comfortable, borrowing down into his jacket and going to sleep. It’s needle-like claws prick at his thin shirt, digging in whenever he turns too sharply or moves any faster than a walking pace. Since Bucky doesn’t want to be completely perforated he walks slowly down the street rather than take to the rooftops, and anyway he has a bag of catfood.

Steve didn’t look up from his spot on the couch when Bucky slipped through the apartment door and kicks off his shoes, though Bucky would bet good money that he’d spent the whole of Bucky’s absence at the window, quietly worrying.

“Hey Buck,” Steve muttered with a forced nonchalance that fools no one. “You get lost?”

“Mowr,” the cat answered.

Steve’s head snaps up, “What-”

“I founds it in the trash,” Bucky blurted out. “It’s greasy and cranky and smells like crap but…” he falters at the complicated run of expressions that passed over Steve’s features. “You seem okay with taking in strays,” Bucky finished weakly.

Steve frowned silently, and Bucky tensed up, one hand curled protectively around the lump of fur under his jacket. Something in Bucky’s expression seemed to settle him though, and he dropped the book he was reading on the coffee table.

“We’re gonna need more stuff,” Steve announced and pulled out his phone.

He wasn’t Captain America anymore, but that didn’t mean Steve couldn’t get things done when he put his mind to it. Twenty minutes later a harassed looking SHIELD agent dropped off several boxes of random crap that were supposedly essential for cat ownership.

Bucky couldn’t understand the need for a litter tray and unscented, clump-forming, biodegradable whatever-the-fuck to go in the tray (cat’s went outside, right?), or the twine-wrapped wooden kitty adventure playground thing. The collar, okay, fair enough. The shampoo and the flea drops, fuck yeah.

Steve read the instructions on the bottle carefully and gave the cat a wary look. “You’ve got the vibranium arm, you can hold it.”

They covered the bathroom floor with towels, and Bucky placed the cat carefully in the bath, where it gave him an unimpressed look and sat down to wash itself.

The disdain might have been more effective if the cat didn’t stop every time it licked itself to twitch and flap it’s tongue.

Bucky poured a little shampoo into his hands and coated his fingers before rubbing them into the cats matted fur. It gave him a curious ‘Prrrp’, but didn’t freak out until Steve turned on the showerhead, checking the water temperature on the inside of his elbow.

The cat hissed and yowled and bit Bucky’s metal thumb, sending half the tub water onto the floor in its thrashing. Bucky pressed his hand between the cats shoulders and it flattened itself on the bottom of the tub while Bucky rinsed off the soap. Underneath all the grime was silky black fur with white paws and chest and a splodge of white on his nose.

Bucky wrapped the cat up in one of the towels until it was a damp and squirming burrito, it’s nose poking out of one end. Bucky cradled it in his arms, murmuring softly as he carries the cat out to the living room and sits down on the couch. The cat bites his wrist half-heartedly, teeth skidding over metal plates. Steve watched silently from the doorway as Bucky carefully dried the cats fur, working through the tangles with his fingers until it curled up in his lap and falls asleep.

Bucky glanced up when Steve sat carefully on the couch beside him, silently waiting for permission before reaching over to stroke the cats still-damp fur.

Bucky thinks of his first night back, when the Winter Soldier bled to death on Steve’s white linens. It had taken days to heal, the bastardised version of superserum that crawled through his veins forcing out the bullets and knitting flesh and skin back together.

Steve had carried him, bridal style, to the bathroom and placed him in the tub. It hadn’t mattered, ghosts couldn’t feel the washcloth passing over bruises and scar tissue. Ghosts didn’t lean into the touch of hands in their hair, carefully rinsing away shampoo. Ghosts didn’t sigh at conditioner being massaged into their scalps, large, gentle fingers teasing out the knots and tangles.

Ghosts didn’t fall asleep on the couch, wrapped in towels and blankets, half listening as their failed mission made endless phone calls in a hushed voice, pulling apart the pieces of his life and putting them back together again with a ghost shaped hole in the middle. In the heart.

The cat purred in it’s sleep, it’s claws flexing rhythmically, leaving pinholes in Buckys jeans.

Piece by piece, everything falls into place

“He needs a name,” Steve murmured.

The cats head was pillowed in the palm of Bucky’s metal hand, fingers curled loosely around it’s fragile skull. It had one paw wrapped around Bucky’s wrist, holding him in place. As if he could even consider leaving.

Such a fragile little thing, and yet it trusted him. Trusted him to keep it safe and warm and alive.

Bucky glanced at Steve. “He?”

It’s not the thing he wants to say. There aren’t words in any language for that. There isn’t time enough in their artificially extended lives to explain it all.

“I got a, uh, eyeful when he was thrashing around in the tub,” Steve mumbles. “Definitely he.”

Ghosts don’t have names. They have identities - The Weeping Woman, The Headless Horseman, The Winter Soldier. Not names.

Bucky isn’t a ghost’s name.

Bucky shrugs, feigning nonchalance. Steve knows him too well to fall for it. “You pick.”

Steve takes a long moment to consider the cat. Bucky watches him from the corner of his eye. The lines of Steve’s face, the curve of his jaw. Things that ice and time and mind-wipes couldn’t erase.”

“He’s your cat, you choose,” Steve says finally.

Bucky huffs. “I’m bad at names. You’re the one who came up with Bucky. You pick.”

Steve lights up, and for a moment Bucky can’t look at him. It’s like staring into the sun.

“You remember that?”

Bucky bristles under Steve’s look of surprise. “Yeah. ‘Course I remember.”

Steve turns his face to Bucky’s neck and has to take a deep, shuddering breath.

Bucky waits for Steve to pull himself together, Steve’s breath, hot and damp against his skin raising goosebumps.

Really, it’s frankly embarrassing. A former spy and a decorated military tactician, and neither of them had figured it out yet.

You don’t go against your commanding officer and damn well walk into enemy territory in a stage costume for a friend. Seeing an old friend doesn’t break seventy years of Hydra programming.

You don’t hand over your shield to a guy dressed like a bird for a friend.

“Tom?” Bucky asks.

Steve snorts, still hiding in the collar of Bucky’s shirt. “That’s not very creative,” he mumbles.

Bucky shifts and turns to Steve, pressing his lips to the top of Steve’s head.

“Orange Juice.”

Steve’s head snaps up, and he meets Bucky’s eyes. “What?”

The corner of Bucky’s mouth ticks up. “I went out to get orange juice.”

Steve coughs out a laugh. “Seriously?”

Bucky gives him a mock glare. “You gotta problem with that?”

Steve shakes his head, his eyes bright.

“You want to keep him?” Bucky asks softly.

“Yeah,” Steve nods.

“You want to keep me?” Bucky murmurs.

Steve frowns. “You’re not a thing, Buck. How many times do I gotta explain-”

Bucky leans forward and kisses him, soft and brief. Steve falls into a shocked silence.

“I mean…” Bucky whispers against Steve’s soft, warm lips. “Do you want to keep me?”

For a second, a heartbeat, Bucky thinks that he’s made a terrible mistake. Steve lets out a soft breath and kisses him back.

“Yes,” he chants between sweet presses of lips. “Yes. Yes.”

Painting Class - A Feysand Fic

Headcanon created by @her-misplaced-wings in one late night conversation and was posted: here

AO3: here

Fic Masterlist: here

Summary: Years after the events of ACOWAR, Feyre opens up a painting shop/studio on the Rainbow and gives painting classes to citizens, free of charge, while Rhys offers to cover their official duties for the night.

Keep reading

I didn’t know you felt that way (Bucky fic)

Warnings: Mentions of Abuse, Physical Violence, Fluff
Please people, don’t let others hurt you or mistreat you, it sucks!

Pairings: Bucky x Female Reader

Blurb: You get a text from an old crush and go to meet him, it doesn’t end well, and it gets worse when Bucky finds out.

It was eleven o’clock on a Friday night, the tower was quiet; you were comfy in your oversize hoodie and panties watching Netflix on the couch. You should’ve stayed there.

Instead you got a text from an old ‘almost’ boyfriend, about how he was in town and missed you, and could the two of you meet. So you did. You shouldn’t have.


By the time you’d done your makeup, got dressed and arrived at the dive bar down the street from the Avengers Tower it was already half past midnight. Your stomach had been in knots the whole time, from the minute you agreed to meet him after all this time, till the minute you saw him at the bar. He waved you over.

“Y/N! I didn’t think you’d respond, let alone turn up here. Woah, you look so gorgeous!” He kissed your cheek and you both took a seat. He started talking about everything he’d done since he last saw you, his new job, responsibilities all the holidays and adventures he’d gone on, not once asking you how you were.

Was he always this shitty of a person? You wondered.

You looked at your phone, it was half three. He must have noticed you weren’t paying attention to his story he slid his hand down your thigh and tried to get up your dress. You pushed his hand away.Furious that he thought you would just put out for him because ~maybe~ you would’ve been a thing.

“Babe, come on, I know you still have feelings for me.” He moved closer to your face, his breath heavy with the whiskey he’d been drinking.

“I thought I did, until you spent three whole hours going on and on and on about how you were the center of the universe; just goes to show that some things never change.” You snapped, standing up and pushing away from the bar. You felt his presence right behind you, but you simply walked faster.

“Oh no, where do you think you’re going. You think you can embarrass me in front of people and walk away” he grabbed your wrist and spun you around to face him, you spat in his face.

Next thing you know he’d back handed you right across the mouth, you could taste the metallic tinge of blood; instinctively your tongue touched your lip. Sure enough, there was a cut.

You pulled his arm towards you, just as Bucky had shown you in sparring and smacked him right at the elbow until his grip on your arm was gone. “Leave me alone. Creep!” you half yelled at him. This only angered him further, he grabbed you by the side and slammed your head into a wall; dizzy, you slid half way down the wall, before he pulled you around a dark alley way. He slammed you up against the wall, and stuck his hand up your dress and ripped your panties right off, before starting on his own button and zip.

You took a deep breath, and waited, you knew what he was going to do, and you knew you had to conserve your energy and consciousness for the perfect moment. He pulled his member out and started to lightly stroke it, grunting. Just as he stepped closer to you, you slammed the heel of your foot onto the top of his, he screamed out in pain. You took the opportunity to punch him in the solar plexus, he grunted and folded in half, that’s when you brought your elbow down straight into the back of his head. He fell to the ground unconscious. You quickly turned and ran from the alley.

You didn’t stop running, you ran through the lobby, to the elevators, through the hallway, past Dr Banner’s lab; you heard him yell but didn’t stop. You ran past the gym and to your room. You slammed the door shut to your room, jammed your chair up under it and climbed into your bed and hid under the covers. You cried yourself to sleep that night.


The next morning you woke up, groggy. Your head was pounding, your eyes burned and your throat was on fire. You climbed out of your bed noticing the blood stain on your pillows. You padded into your bathroom and stood in front of the mirror. You looked like hell, a busted, swollen lip and a black eye. You sighed.

You quickly showered. Stripped your bed of the dirty sheets, throwing them in your hamper, and then you changed into your biggest, baggiest hoodie, something that always made you feel safe. You flopped onto the bed and sighed. Your skin was still crawling with him. You couldn’t get his disgusting words, his horrible touch out of your head. You growled, slamming your fists on your bed.

You got up, changed into your work out gear and thundered down the hall to the training room. Making sure to avoid everyone, keeping your head down. You checked the gym was free and then entered. You turned your music on as loud as it would go over the speakers, and did your warm ups, before turning to the sparring dummy.

After an hour or two – you weren’t sure – of hard sparring, kicking and punching, someone else entered the training room and turned your music down slightly.

“Hey Y/N” Bucky said dropping his gym bag off in the corner and heading for the treadmill to warm up. “Late night last night?” he smirked.

“Nope” you chided. You knew you shouldn’t be mad at Bucky, but you didn’t want to talk.

“Huh, could’ve sworn I saw you running off to your room around four” he said walking a little closer to you. You turned slightly so he wouldn’t see your face. You knew he’d lose it.

Over the last few months of being with the Avengers you and he had become close. You weren’t really sure what you were, but you knew he’d go crazy. He hated to see anyone hurt, especially women. Even more especially you.

“Nope, must’ve been someone else,” you said, not taking your eyes off the dummy. Bucky must’ve sensed something was up, because he came around to face you, and his breath caught.

“What. The. Fuck?” He touched your face until you were looking directly into his crystal eyes. You pulled your face away.


“Yeah? That sure as shit doesn’t look like nothing doll face” he snapped. “What happened, and who the fuck am I killing?”

You sighed. Dropping your arms to your sides. You looked up at Bucky. You could feel the tears already tingling at the back of your eyes. His face changed and he grabbed you, wrapping his strong arms around you in a warm embrace. He kissed the top of your head and shushed you while you cried.

You hated crying in front of people, especially the Avengers. You didn’t want to be weak.

When you were sure you were all cried out you took a step out of his embrace. He waited. You took a deep breath and told him everything; you even showed him the burn mark on your hip where your panties were ripped off. You told him what you did and how you got away. His eyes grew cloudy and his whole body tensed. You waited for his response.

“Bucky, I’m, I’m fine, really” You said, touching his arm. He pulled away.

“Stay here, don’t leave the tower. I’ll be back” He said, kissing your forehead before storming out of the room. His murder strut on full display.

“Bucky!” You called after him, but he was already gone.


After your training session you went back to your room and had a long shower, clean sheeted your bed and then went to find something to eat. It had been about an hour since Bucky had stormed out of the tower. And he wasn’t answering any of your calls or texts.

You grabbed a box of cereal from the cupboard and plonked onto the couch. You brought your knees up to your chin and started eating.

“Hey Y/N!” Bruce chirped as he entered the room. “How are you…..What happened?” Concerned he stood in front of you.


“Don’t lie” Bruce said crouching in front of you. You had always loved Bruce, he felt safe; he helped where he could, and simply listened when he couldn’t. You sighed and gave him the short version; he shook his head, before grabbing your hand and giving it a squeeze.

He was about to say something when the door slammed open and Bucky stood there, blood on his knuckles, chest heaving.

“I’ll talk to you later,” Bruce said, before squeezing past Bucky and closing the door behind himself.

“Bucky…” you started, softly, standing up and walking over to him. You grabbed his hands and examined his knuckles. “What did you do?”

“I went to the bar, and sure enough that piece of shit was there, talking about how he bagged the newest Avenger in the alley out back and how she was the feistiest piece of ass he’s ever had, and he just wouldn’t shut up, so I made damn sure that he wouldn’t talk shit about you every again doll…” Bucky said, touching the side of your face where the black eye was. “I also made sure to set everyone in the bar straight, and if anyone had any problems they could come and see me personally.”

“Bucky,” you closed your eyes and turned your face in his hand until you were kissing his palm.

“Doll, you are beautiful, smart, funny, kind, and the strongest woman I have ever met, and you deserve nothing but love and respect, and to have this piece of shit out there talking smack about you, I won’t allow it.” He sighed. You reached up and pecked him on the lips.

“Thank you Bucky” you whispered into his lips.

“Why can’t you see that I am the one for you doll, I’d worship you, treat you right and never, ever hurt you.” Bucky whispered, starring at you.

“Bucky, I didn’t, I didn’t know you felt that –”

“C’mon doll, you’re not that silly, and I am not that subtle” he smirked

You grabbed him and planted the biggest, hardest kiss on his lips.


"It's the Painted Lady"

Katara is sick of following Aang around, only known as “that water tribe girl” or “the avatar’s girlfriend”. She hates being seen as just a possession of the Avatar’s. Aang loved the attention, no matter where they went he was always the centre of attention. Katara doesn’t mind that he’s gaining attention, after all he is a hero, but he’s goofing off, acting like a child, making messes for Katara to clean up, sure he has his moments when he can be sweet and loving, but they don’t last. Some days she feels more like his mother than his girlfriend.

“Katara my tunic needs cleaning!” Aang calls as he enters their shared home. Katara turns around to find Aang covered in mud and dirt.

 "What happened?“ She sighs, not even remotely surprised. 

 "I went mud sliding!” He beams proudly, then he looks around the house and then back to Katara, 

“What have you been doing all day?” Katara looks around the spotless room, finally cleaned after yesterday’s mess. She opens her mouth and then a blast of air and mud flies towards her, covering her and the whole room in mud.

“Sorry,” Aang laughs as he wipes his nose from the sneeze. Katara’s eyebrow twitches and she blows out a breath of hot steam. “At least my tunics clean now!” Aang beams, “you don’t have to clean it now!" 

Before Katara can even blink, Aang rides an air ball out of the house. Katara hears her boyfriend fly away on his bison and her anger begins to boil as she looks at her mud stained house. 

 "I can’t deal with this any more.” she breathes out a gust of hot steam again, too tired to do anything else. Katara packs some of her things and then leaves, needing space from her childish boyfriend. Katara has been staying with Aang in the earth kingdom. Sokka returned to the southern water tribe with their father and Suki to help rebuild their tribe. Toph visits from time to time, though mostly to see Aang. And Zuko, Zuko is the Fire Lord, Katara visits him when she can, after all he was the only one she never had to mother, but Zuko is always busy and Katara doesn’t want to disturb him as he tries to heal his nation. 

“Master Katara!” Someone calls, snapping Katara out of her thoughts as she walks along the road. A fire nation man approaches Katara, his face is red and he huffs from running. 

 "What is it?“ Katara asks placing a hand on the man’s shoulder in concern.

"My wife,” the man puffs, “she’s ill, none of the doctors can help her.” Katara doesn’t waste a second. 

“Take me to her,” she says, the man leads Katara to a small boat. The boat takes them to a little fire colony island. The man takes Katara to his hut and shows her to his wife. Katara wastes no time, she checks over the woman and then takes some water from her bending pouch. She heals the woman and leaves the man some medicine for her to take. She’s not even two steps outside the mans house when a little boy runs up to her. 

 "Can you help my father?“ He asks. 

Turns out, half of the little colony is infected with the same virus, causing headaches, fever and sickness. Katara spends a week on the island healing the people. Katara feels good while she’s healing. Come the weeks end, almost every one is healed and Katara has earned the respect and admiration of the people. They call her ‘Master Katara’ and there is no mention of the Avatar.

After the colony is better, Katara leaves, she makes sure that the village has enough medicine and food and then she leaves, she does not accept any payment or celebrations in her name. 

As she’s leaving, Katara spies a small wooden figure in the window of a man’s home, it’s the Painted Lady.

The little figure makes Katara smile.

When Katara arrives on the mainland of the Fire Nation, she disguises herself as the Painted Lady once more, the Fire Nation still holds some reserved anger towards the other nations, so Katara finds it in her best interest to disguise herself as a Fire Nation’s spirit.

She works during the night healing sick and wounded people.

Then she stops criminals who try to steal during the night, she makes sure the drunks find their way home and she watches over women who walk the streets alone. 

Katara has not heard a word from Aang over the past two months she’s been away. So far there has been no sign that he is missing her or that he’s even noticed. 

Katara feels conflicted, she wants Aang to worry for her, to cause a panic and do anything to find her, but at the same time, she would rather he not care at all, that he leave her alone and not try and find her. 

Katara walks through the street as the Painted Lady, looking and listening for any kind of trouble.

It’s on this night that she encounters another spirit.

The Blue Spirit. 

Stalker Alert!

Request: “Hi!! Can i request a scenario where it’s late at night and y/n is stalked by a dude and phonecall shownu for help(?) He shows up scaring her but then she clings to him cause she’s scared to death. You can decide the finale :) Happened to me the other night and shtted my pants lmao ;__;”

Ship: Shownu x [y/n]

Word Count: 982

i deeply apologize if this scenario is really dry ;^; i really am sorry tho ;-; but i hope that you’ll like it? huhu i also apologize for any misspelled words and wrong grammar. credits to the owner for this gif


Originally posted by porkbunwonho

There were barely any life-forms roaming around the street as it was already past 10. You just got out from the study center and was making your way towards your apartment. The small light illuminated by your phone caught your attention, bringing your phone up to your face, only to see a text from your boyfriend, Shownu.

  • appa nu (10:07 pm): Babe, where are you?

Quickly tapping your fingers away, you replied a ‘I’m on my way home now… I’m still at the deokbokki shop’ and transferred your gaze back towards the road right ahead of you. Scanning your surroundings, you couldn’t help but have a eerie feeling creeping on your back.

Your heart was starting to beat really fast and you could feel the pit of your stomach churn. Cold sweat ran down through your back and temples, making you swallow a huge amount of saliva. The sound of footsteps echoed through the empty streets. 

This was the last thing that you’ve wanted to have at the end of the day and that was having someone follow you and probably kill you or something. Fastening up your pace, you turned to the right and started to fumble on your phone, trying to unlock it without dropping it on the concrete ground.

Oh God, help me…. I’m being stalked oh gosh… I’m still young… I don’t want to dieeee!!!! you mentally screamed, trying to fight back the tears when you heard the footsteps once more. Unlocking your phone with your thumbprint, you immediately dialed Shownu’s number.

The number that you have dialed is currently not available, please try again later. Beeeeeeeep

Feeling that the footsteps behind you were starting to catch up, you didn’t think twice but to run as fast as you can. Turning at the nearest intersection, you brisked walk and dialed Shownu’s number once more, crossing your fingers.


Babe, where are you? I need you right now….” your voice trailed off as you tried to calm your beating heart down. You could feel your throat parched from running. Looking at your back, you heaved a sigh and continued to walk towards your apartment.

(Why? What’s wrong?)

I’ve been followed by some stalker and I don’t know what to do… I just keep on turning and running and turning–”

(Babe, calm down. I’ll be there, alright? Just give me– Beeeeeeeep)

You could feel your world crashing down when you saw that your battery just died. Stopping for a moment, you looked through your bag to search for your power bank but then froze by the second you heard those footsteps once more. Zipping your bag up, you continued to walk, fastening your pace.

The thought that it might be a rapist or some freak scared the heck out of you. There were barely any life-form around and you wouldn’t want your name to be plastered on every single news station with a ‘Lady was raped and killed at ****** street. The suspect has been…’ as a headline. 

Coming to a halt, you felt the chills running down your spine when the footsteps vanished. You had only two options, beat the pulp out of that creep or ran for your freaking life. And being the person that you are, you wouldn’t want to back out without any fight. Positioning your self into a fighting position, you stayed quiet and listened to the footsteps.

When the footsteps was already near you, it vanished once more. Beads of sweat trickled down your temples, your heart beat raced and your stomach churned once more. Your lips quivered and tears were already welling up in your eyes. Taking a step back, you felt your back meet something hard to which literally made you freeze.


Without any hesitations, you screamed your lungs out and cried your eyes out. “Hey, calm down. It’s just me, babe.” The sound of Shownu’s voice made you calm down. He grabbed both of your shoulders and made you face him, making you throw your arms around his neck and bawl your eyes out.

“I was freaking scared, Hyunwoo!” you cried out. Shownu hugged you back and gave you a light pat on the back. “There’s no need to cry now. Hey, look at me.” He slowly loosen your grip around him and cupped your cheeks, looking straight into your eyes.

“Hey, you’re safe now… and I have to confess something…” He whispered while wiping your tears with his thumb. “What?” you asked and sniffled at the same time. “I was the one who’s been following you this whole time… hehe, sorry.” Shownu flashed you a sheepish smile. 

Hearing his confession, your arms lifelessly dropped at your side. Your eyebrows furrowed and you stared at him in disbelief. “Why didn’t you make any sound?! Arghh… I got scared for nothing?!” Shownu just chuckled in response as he continued to watch you whine.

“It’s not my fault when you walked so fast! I was about to call you but then you decided to run!”

“No! You should’ve called out my name so that I would be this freaking scared right now!” you retorted and continued to whine. Showing no signs of stopping, Shownu sighed and offered, “How ‘bout I buy you some ramen or fish cake or ice cream to make it up to you?”

Just hearing the words related to food made your ears perk up and you immediately stopped and looked at Shownu with a cheeky grin. “How many?” you asked. “As many as you want.” Pumping your fist in the air you couldn’t help but do a small victory dance. “Asa! Well then, let’s go!”

Letting out a soft chuckle, Shownu just let you drag him towards who-knows-where you’d take him. 

Hey, [y/n].”

“Yes, babe?”

“Next time, you should wait for me outside of the study center or maybe if you want to experience this again–”

“I’ll wait!”

the signs as things
  • Aries: when you wake before everyone else without an alarm, and everything is quiet and calm and theres a slight chill in the air
  • Taurus: when it's evening and you're walking down the street and you can smell dinner cooking from the houses you walk past
  • Gemini: when you're trying to tell a story and but you can't stop laughing
  • Cancer: visiting someone's house with your family but you're still at the age where you don't have to socialise with the adults so you just wander around a little and get to play games
  • Leo: when you're in the city at night but you can barely tell because it's so bright
  • Virgo: when you've been stressed for a while but finally get around to cleaning you're room and that night you sleep better than usual
  • Libra: staying up even when you're tired because you're enjoying talking to someone so much
  • Scorpio: when you're at a sleepover and everyone's finally going to sleep even though the sun is about to come up
  • Sagittarius: when you actually forget your homework and you're internally crying because you're teacher is awful, only to find out they called in sick and you have a sub
  • Capricorn: when you get the work you need to get done BEFORE the last minute so you have 'free' time
  • Aquarius: when you're finally becoming closer with someone and you find out that you both have the same 'weird' habits or interests
  • Pisces: when you accidentally get undercharged for something that you shouldn't have been spending money on anyway

anonymous asked:

Hello!! How about RFA and Saeran oh!oh! and Vanderwood with Mc who have no sense of direction!! Like they always getting lost

You asked so adorably, awww. But, I’m so sorry, I don’t write Vanderwood because I really don’t understand their character at all. Very sorry!

-Yoosung was having a hardcore cram session one day.
-This poor thing keeps stressing himself out because he has an extremely important test tomorrow and he cannot fail it. Even though he’s a genius, and you tell him that many times, he’s stressed as hell.
-You thought you’d do something nice and offer to go buy him some comfort food to cheer him up.
-He says you don’t have to, but you do it anyway. So you hop in your car and head to the grocery store.
-You actually get there just fine and enter the store only to find that it is rather crowded.
-You’re only there to pick up some snacks for your stressed boyfriend so you try to get in and out as fast as possible.
-So you quickly make your way to the side of the store that has what you’re looking for, but you have to take detours to avoid crowds and next thing you know you’re lost in the canned food aisle.
-You tell yourself to just retrace your steps and follow the signs hanging from the ceiling but you still can’t find where you were trying to go.
-It takes you an hour and a half to get the snacks and get back to Yoosung.
-He’s passed out, dead asleep on top of his text book.
-You wanted to let him sleep. He deserves it. But you set the bags down and he stirs awake.
-“___, what took you so long?” he mumbled, still half asleep.
-You tell him about the grocery store incident and he laughs at you.
-He laughs at you. fuckin rude
-He apologizes and just says you’re cute for being so bad with directions. But he also says you need to be more careful not to get lost in more serious situations.
-Whatever you say my dude

-You wanted to bring Zen food while he was at rehearsal since he forgot to bring some with him today.
-You told him you’d bring him something so he can eat something healthy, plus it would be nice to see him.
-Zen tells you you don’t have to go out of your way to bring him food because he could just go buy something, but you insist.
-It’s not like you’ve never been to the theater. Your boyfriend practically lives there. You’ve been there hundreds of times, so you’re confident that you can get there in time for his break.
-But suddenly you’re on a street you’ve never heard of.
-That’s okay, you’ll just turn right and end up on the main road again.
-Wait since when did this place exist?
-Where the fuck am I??
-You pull over and decide to text Zen that you might not make it in time for his lunch break. He’s really sweet and tells you not to worry and all that cute stuff.
-You use the GPS on your phone in defeat and find that you’ve somehow ended up on the other side of town.
-You rush to the theater and get there just as Zen’s break time is up.
-But, you still give him his food, and the director kindly gives him an extra few minutes to eat it.
-While he ate, you explained why it took you so long to get here.
-“Darling, thank you for the food. But, uh… maybe you should use a GPS more often.”

-You two had planned a date night tonight and you were both supposed to meet up at a restaurant at 5:00pm
-She had arrived five minutes early and was waiting patiently on a bench for your arrival.
-But ten minutes pass, twenty minutes pass, thirty minutes pass…
-Okay she’s very worried.
-She texts you after the first ten minutes she notices you’re running late, and you reply with “Sorry! Traffic!”
-She understands but then after thirty minutes? She’s getting concerned.
-The restaurant wasn’t far from your house. Why is it taking you this long? Even if there is traffic, how could it be so backed up you’re thirty, going on forty minutes late?
-Are you… standing her up?
-Wait no that can’t be right
-You’re not that kind of person.
-After forty five minutes of sitting on a bench waiting, you run up to her
-“Ah, oh my god, Jaehee! I’m so sorry I’m so late..!”
-“What kept you? There couldn’t have possibly been that much traffic from here to your house. It’s fairly close.”
-“…It is?”
-“It’s close to my house..?”
-You had apparently taken the long way here. Not just that, you had missed three turns twice along the way.
-You had to explain that to your poor unamused girlfriend. That’s how she found out how horrible you are with directions.
-But, even though you’re very late, you continue with the date plans as usual.
-She offers to drive you from now on when you two go out anywhere. If she can’t, she suggests a cab because it’s much cheaper than the gas you’ll waste taking wrong turns.

-Driver Kim takes care of transportation so you never had to worry about driving.
-Which is good because you don’t know left from right.
-But one day he invites you to come visit his office because you had been curious as to what it was like.
-When you got there, an employee at the door gave you directions to Jumin’s office.
-You were highly confident that you would be able to find it without issue.
-You find yourself standing in a hallway.
-“…Did they say to turn left or right…?”
-Now you’re lost in a very important and busy office building.
-You wander around trying to find some landmark to determine where the heck you are while also trying not to look like a lost commoner from off the streets to the important and professional looking people walking past you.
-A guard that happened to be passing by stopped you and ask you to identify yourself which was intimidating
-You tell him your name and that you’re trying to get to Jumin’s office.
-He gives you a confused face.
-“But his office is three floors down from here.”
-So the guard escorts you to Jumin’s office.
-You got there safely to a worried looking Jumin.
-“____, you’re finally here. I was worried; you were taking so long to get here I thought something happened.”
-You tell him you got lost and embarrassed yourself in front of his coworkers. He will now always make sure you have an escort when you visit to avoid you wandering somewhere you’re not supposed to be.
-Also when you go out together he holds your hand and is reluctant to let you go off on your own so you don’t get lost.

-You had both taken a trip to the grocery store to pick up some more food.
-You were just about done gathering everything on the list you collectively created when Saeyoung noticed you had skipped an item on the list.
-He groaned. It was all the way on the other side of the store.
-Noticing how he really didn’t want to walk that far, you offered to go get it yourself.
-He let you, of course.
-He didn’t think much of it until you were gone for about fifteen minutes.
-This store isn’t that huge; how could it take you fifteen minutes to walk to the other side and back?
-He decides to text you and check up on you. He asks where you are.
-“Sorry, looking for the right aisle.”
-“Don’t tell me you’re lost.”
-“…Well you see…”
-You’re lost. And you’re on the other side of the building, earning another groan of Saeyoung.
-“Okay, well where exactly are you”
-I don’t know there’s only soup
-You tell him what aisle number you’re in.
-He stops.
-“…That’s not even close to where that last item is.”
-“You’re literally three aisles down from me.”
-You had apparently done a full circle on your journey to get to the other side of the store.
-You walk out of the aisle and start walking to find him when you hear him call your name from behind you.
-You even went the wrong way to find him three aisles over. oh my god how have you lived this long
-Saeyoung walks with you to get the last item on your list. He also makes a mental note never to let you go off on your own without knowing where you are, and to never put you in charge of directions.

-Well aren’t you both just a disaster together.
-V can barely see, and you don’t know what you’re doing.
-You were on a date at a local fair and having a great time.
-V enjoyed being able to spend time with you while also being outdoors. He was indifferent to the rides, but he was outside with you, so he was the happiest man ever.
-You were both getting a little peckish so you decided you should go get some snacks.
-You knew exactly which stands had the best food and he trusted your judgment, so you held his hand tightly and guided him through the crowds of other fair-goers.
-In your excitement to get your hands on some junk food you managed to get completely lost. You stop abruptly, causing V to almost bump into you.
-“What is it?” he asked.
-“Nothing,” you told him before marching into motion again with V in tow.
-You were determined to find the food stands if it was the last thing you did. You were using landmarks to find your way around like the Ferris wheel and the various roller coasters but you still could not find the stands.
-You find a map yet you still can’t seem to get to point B.
-“Love? The food stands are over that way,” he said quietly and pointed behind him with his thumb. “Should I lead you there?”
-Great job. You have to have an almost blind man guide you places because you’re that poor of a guide.
-He’s not annoyed in any way because he’s such a patient person. V helps you to the food stands that you had walked past multiple times in your frenzied search and you purchase the food you wanted.
-V can’t really see, so you will guide him, but he will help give you directions so you don’t get overwhelmed or lost.
-You’re actually a good team.

-He gets so annoyed when you run off and get lost.
-Can you not just say in his line of sight? That way you won’t get lost and he won’t have to go find you?
-But alas, you tend to get distracted and run off, leaving him to figure out where you had gone.
-He panics on the inside whenever you get lost on your own. He doesn’t want you getting hurt, which is more likely when you’re all alone.
-You wanted to take him out to a new shop opening up across town that you had been dying to check out.
-You assured him that you knew where it was, so he reluctantly allowed you to drive.
-He rolled his eyes and slouched in the passenger’s seat. “You better not get us lost.”
-No promises, Saeran wrap
-The bad thing about this situation is that he doesn’t know where the shop is, so he can’t correct you when you go the wrong way.
-You thought you knew, you really did. But, you’ve been driving for ten minutes with no sign of the store.
-“Oh no…” you mutter under your breath.
-Saeran glared over at you. “What do you mean ‘oh no’?”
-You swallowed hard. “I may be heading the wrong way.”
-Saeran groaned in annoyance. “I told you you should follow a GPS! Ugh, just pull one up on your phone.”
-So you did, and you followed that instead. Even then, one time, when the GPS said to turn right, you accidentally turned left, Saeran grumbled and glared in your direction again.
-He’s so grumpy and irritable because 1. this is taking too long and 2. he doesn’t like not knowing what’s going on, but he’ll get over it.
-He forgives you when you buy him ice cream from a shop next to the one you were visiting.

Cracks In The Mirror: Caught

(I have had this idea for a terrible “Through Imperial Eyes” AU running around in my head for like three weeks and now I must inflict it on the rest of you, because the hiatus is already stinging.

The basic premise: Kallus gets held up on the way to Ezra’s cell, so Thrawn gets there first.

Also on FFnet here.


He had to hurry.

Lyste’s stolen data cylinder burning a hole in his front pocket, Kallus beelined for the secure cell where they had taken Ezra.  The quicker the boy was out of his hair and restored to his crew, the better.  Kallus had no intention of leaving with the young rebel–and if the plan he’d set in motion panned out, he wouldn’t have to.  But it required careful speed and precision.

He was almost to the right corridor.  If that junior officer hadn’t waylaid him in the hall earlier he could have been here ten minutes ago.  Every second counted in operations like this, and he sped to make up the lost time.

Kallus was in such a rush he breezed right past Chopper and AP-5, hovering just shy of the corner.

AP-5 raised a hand.  "I wouldn’t–“ he tried to warn the agent.

Kallus rounded the corner and then immediately had to lunge back behind it, biting down an internal scream of frustration.

Thrawn and Pryce and three Stormtroopers were right outside Ezra’s cell.

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2 Years of Squid fun

it’s been 2 years since I started this blog and all the fun I had was fun. don’t worry, this isn’t a “I’m closing my blog” type thing, actually, I’ll be continuing this blog into Splatoon 2! expect more squid fun here!

so, what does this mean for my squids? well, Ika is going to be taking up a second job. there were some cut backs at Port Mackerel, and Ika needs the money, so she got a part time job doing Salmon Run. it’s gonna be a rough time xD

Kai is still playing in turf and ranked battles, he even plans to pick up the Octobrush for once! he and Lyla are still together, and are even planning on forming their own squad with Jacob as well, but on the side, Kai has be doing alot more art on paper, yes he can draw, maybe even look into making tattoo designs in the future… oh~

Kano is still Kano, still trying to one up others, and Kai, with his charger skills, but word on the street there’s someone from his past that might threaten his fame and try to take his title as best charger.

not much has changed with them and there might be new OCs popping up soon. the squids themselves might have new look of new clothes but they are still the lovable losers I care so much about. HERE’S TO A NEW ERA!- oh? what’s this?

is that an egg? whose does this belong to? guess we gotta wait until it hatches

Drive (steve rogers x reader)

warnings: heavy angst, mentions of cheating, alcohol abuse, toxic relationships, mentions of sexual content

steve rogers x reader

word count: 1.4k+

based on the song,

“Drive” by oh wonder

A/N: this is part of @whothehellisbella’s cool times summer jamz mix writing challenge. also a Modern!AU oneshot. I enjoyed writing this, even though there were tears and anger through it all. :) i hope you enjoy this too!

Originally posted by forassgard

“Tell me you didn’t leave.” She looked ahead, not glancing at the speedometer, as she sped up. 50. 65. 72. 82.“Tell me you didn’t abandon me.” he said, his voice husky over the phone, his voice filling the car, choking her. “I didn’t,” she sighed, “I’ll see you home.” “Okay,” he said, clicking off. Her music blared back on, and she clicked the windows to slide all the way down. Tears trailed down her face: a look of despair, dread, and even some fear, of the thought of going back. Going back to her apartment. Going back to him

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Come And See Me

Originally posted by assbutt-trumpet

Originally posted by clvir-e

Request: Happy imagine base on ‘Come and See Me’ by partynextdoor.

You sat against the headboard, the white sheets covering your naked body and Happy passed you the joint.
You inhaled deeply, dragging the smoke into you before letting it leave your lips.
Smoke lingered in the air as you both sat in bed, recovering from another late night session.
Happy lay next to you, and your eyes studied the tattoos on his torso and chest.
Your fingers traced them lazily and you passed the joint back to him.
Three months now, this had been going on.
He’d call you and you’d go, run to him and make love before leaving again. And it would be days, or even weeks before you heard from him again.
He was your comfort, the only constant in your life.
He didn’t speak often, but when he did you clung to his words, desperate to hear more of the sweetest sound.
You knew you were hopeless when it came to Happy Lowman. All he had to do was snap his fingers and you’d be there.
“I should go.” You said quietly, breaking the silence.
Happy looked at you, his dark eyes searching your face before he nodded.
You stood, letting the sheet drop to the bed and you walked naked across the dorm room, searching for your clothes that were scattered over the floor.
Happy watched you dress, his eyes burning your skin silently.
You sat on the edge of the bed and pulled your hair on top of your head, securing it into a high messy bun. You slipped your boots on and stood.
Happy sat up in he bed and you leant over him.
He kissed you deeply, his hands holding your face to his gently.
You pulled away slightly, your eyes looking into his.
“Goodnight, Happy.” You whispered.
He looked deeply into your eyes, making you feel insecure under his intense gaze.
“Goodnight, little girl.” He spoke lowly.
You straightened and grabbed your bag off the floor, slinging it over your shoulder as you left the dorm.
You walked out of the clubhouse, the cool night air drifting over your skin and you welcomed it.
The night was quiet, the only sound was your footsteps across the concrete as you walked to your car.
You opened the door quietly and slid in, starting the engine instantly and winding the windows down before quietly closing the door.
The car pulled out of the lot, and the street lights shone down on you though the windscreen as you drove.
The lights blurred past you from passing cars and street lights, the neon lights of businesses illuminating your face as you drove through the night, the cool air blowing the loose strands of hair around your face.
You sighed as you slowed the car and pulled into your driveway, shutting the car off and walking swiftly to the front door.
You opened it slowly and entered, back to reality. back to your life and the loneliness that swallowed you.

Your eyes flickered open as the sound of your phone going off broke the silence of the night.
You groaned as you rolled over and reached for your phone.
Your eyes squinted shut as you looked at the screen, the bright light burning your eyes.
‘Come over.’
You sighed and closed your eyes.
You were tired of this. It had been eight days since you’d left Happys room, and you hadn’t heard from him at all. Not until now.
You opened your eyes and bit your lip as you typed.
It’s 2am Hap.
You hit send and dropped the phone and stared up at the ceiling, your eyes adjusting to the darkness.
Your phone went off and you looked at the screen.
You scoffed.
You were tired of being a doormat. He only spoke to you when he wanted to. He didn’t really care. He never asked about you.
It’s too late, Happy. Goodnight.
You turned your phone off and closed your eyes.
This was for the best.
You had feelings for Happy but he was using you. You were just a distraction, someone to keep his bed warm.
You hadn’t minded, not at first, but now you were getting real feelings for him.
And every time you left his room and didn’t hear from him your heart broke a little more.
Happy stared at the phone, a frown on his face.
It’s too late, Happy. Goodnight.
The words played over and over in his head and Happy stared at the phone, twirling it in his hands.
You never said no.
Whenever he called, you’d come, whenever he’d text, you’d come.
It’s too late, Happy. Goodnight.
Why were you doing this? He needed you. You calmed him down, made him feel something. But he couldn’t get too close, this life was too dangerous, and he thought you understood that.
Happy sighed and tossed his phone across the room before flipping down onto the bed and closing his eyes.
It’s too late, Happy. Goodnight.

“I’ve had a really nice night with you, (y/n).” James said, and smiled at you as he drove.
You smiled back at him warmly.
“Me too, James.”
You had known James for a few months now, he was a regular at work and after politely declining his date offers for a while you had finally agreed.
It’s not like you had a future with Happy; you hadn’t even heard from him in two weeks, and even if you had you knew it would just me another booty call.
You weren’t exactly lying.
Your date with James had been good, he was a nice guy and he made you laugh.
But his eyes were blue and you missed the darkness.
His skin was bare and you missed the intricate tattoos.
He was a good guy that made you laugh, and you missed the bad boy that made you moan.
He drove in silence, both of you looking out of the windows contently.
James began to hum and you smiled to yourself as he reached his hand across the car and intertwined his fingers with yours.
The car pulled into your street and you scanned the passing fences and houses.
James pulled to a stop in front of your house and turned the car off before turning to you.
“I’d really like to do this again.” He said warmly.
You reached down and grabbed your bag and pulled it onto your lap.
“Yeah, me too. I’d-”
You stopped mid sentence.
Your eyes had looked past James, out the window and into the street.
Where Happy stood, leaning against his bike and a cigarette pressed between his lips.
“Happy.” You whispered.
James chuckled.
“You make me happy too, (y/n).”
You snapped back to reality and smiled awarded before quickly pecking his cheek.
“I’ll call you.” You said and hurriedly got out of the car.
“Night, babe.” James called and pulled into the street.
You watched him drive until the tail lights disappeared around the corner, your heart beating in your throat.
Across the street Happy watched you, standing in your driveway with wide eyes and your lips opened slightly.
He tossed his cigarette to the ground and walked across the street.

“Hey little girl.” Happy said, and you realised how much you had missed his raspy voice.
“What are you doing here, Hap?”
You asked quietly.
Happy ignored tie question and paced circles around you, his dark eyes taking in every inch of you.
“I thought we had a deal.” He said as he stopped moving and stood in front of you his face blank.
“What deal?” You asked and crossed your arms over your chest.
“Your mine. Not his.” Happy growled.
You laughed bitterly.
“I’m yours? Fuck you, Happy! I’m only yours when it’s convenient! I go days without hearing from you, weeks even! So don’t you dare try and make me your fucking property!” You snapped.
You breathed heavily, your body trembling with rage as you finally spoke the words you had been holding back for so long.
He raised his eye brows at your words and nodded slowly.
“I need you, (y/n).” He said.
“No, Happy. You need my pussy. You don’t give a shit about me! That’s why you’ve never come here before, why you’ve never asked me about myself! You know you could come and see me for once, Hap! You don’t need me!” You yelled.
Happy growled and stepped closer to you, his hands grasping your arms roughly.
“You think I only want to fuck you?” He laughed darkly. “I’ve got plenty of pussy, babygirl. But none of them make me feel the way you do.” His breath was hot on your lips and he stepped closer to you.
“None of them calm me the way you do. You think I don’t want you? Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to stay away from you?” He growled.
You stared into the darkness of his eyes.
“I’m a killer, (y/n). I’ve done things that would give you nightmares forever little girl. But this life is dangerous, that’s why I’ve kept you away. But I can’t stay away from you. I try but I can’t do it.”
His hands held your arms tighter and his face was inches from yours.
He wasn’t yelling anymore, his voice was quiet and low and you breathed in every word he said.
“Happy.” You whispered.
You pressed your lips against his and he kissed you back hungrily, his hands moving from your arms to your waist.
“Your mine.” He growled against your lips.
You nodded and kissed him back deeply.
“I’m yours.”

anonymous asked:

Aaaaaaa! Any chance we could get some abba finding out he fathered a baby with an s/o he left because he didn't want to ruin their life? It doesn't have to be angst, but let's face it. Abba has a lot of self hatred going on.

this prompt…. why must he suffer so???? 

warnings for: domestic violence, very vague suggestion of child abuse, general abbacchio self-hatred

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