this got almost covered with dust

Cake Batter

A Dean x Reader AU / fluff

A/N: This is my submission for @dancingalone21‘s AU Funny Quote Challenge [ x ]. This is an AU, in the fact that Sam and Dean are not hunters. I didn’t really get a chance to specify that in the story, but that’s really all I could think of. I haven’t written anything in a while, so I hope you guys like it. Let me know what you think! ♥

Word Count: 1,529

- language.

Tags: (at the end)

*gif is not mine.

It was Sam’s birthday, and you decided last minute to make him a cake - from scratch. You had never baked anything that didn’t come in a box with specific instructions, so you were nervous it would come out horrible. Sam wasn’t one for sweets anyway, but everyone deserved a treat on their birthday, and he was going to eat it if you had to force it down his throat.

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Devil’s Trap

Summary: You’re getting closer and closer to finding the demon, so you enlist the help of Bobby Singer. Getting John back doesn’t go to plan at all.
Words: 6.4k
Dean x Reader, Sam x Jess
Warnings: episode related angst and violence

Beta: @blacksiren
A/N: this is the final part of my ‘Jess never died’ rewrite of Season One, find the masterpost here

Your name: submit What is this?

“You’re never going to see your father again.”

Dean hung up the phone instantly, shoving it into his pocket and picking up the Colt.

“What are you doing?” you asked as he tucked the gun into the back of his pants.

He picked up your jacket, handing it to you and kissing your cheek.

“We gotta go,” he told you, and you nodded, putting on your jacket before helping Jess to slip on her own.

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The Prettiest Flour

Pairing : Kim Taehyung x  Reader  -  [Gender Neutral]

Genre : fluff, humour 

Warnings : slight sexual undertone. nothing explicit 

Word Count : 1,024

“Y’know, when you asked me to come over and have fun, this isn’t exactly what I had in mind,” you laughed, admiring the situation before you. You two were trying to make cookies, but Taehyung had decided that the recipie was too difficult. The small dorm kitchen was almost entirely hidden beneath a sheet of white flour, Taehyung himself being equally as covered in the powder. His baggy white t-shirt looked no different but the tight black shorts which adorned his golden thighs looked horrendous. Taehyung had even managed to get flour in his hair. The sight of it all made your heart swell with love.

“Well you are having fun, aren’t you?” He giggled, dusting some of the powder from his forearm. He was right - the two of you hardly got to spend time alone due to his career. You felt comfortless and lonely when he was whisked away for promotions or a tour, but all of the sadness seemed to melt away in times like this. You cherished these precious moments where the two of you could be relaxed, happy and alone; lost in a world where only you and Taehyung existed. 

He had somehow convinced everyone else to leave the dorm for a few hours, giving the two of you complete privacy. It was bliss having no one to pull Taehyung away from you. The privacy was also a blessing because you knew that Seokjin would murder the two of you because of the utter havoc you had caused in his kitchen.

You strolled up behind Taehyung, stepping in flour and sugar and god knows what else, snaking your arms around his waist and leaning your forehead against the back of his neck. 

“I’m having the most fun I’ve ever had, baby,” nuzzling your nose into his gorgeous skin, you kissed his neck softly and inhaled the wonderful scent radiating from his hair - sweet apple and vanilla milk.

“Ah, it tickles! Stop!” He shrieked, throwing his head back in an attempt to get you to move. Taehyung wriggled free from you arms and darted towards the living room, screaming the entire way. You set off behind him, dodging stray shoes and clothes littered on the floor.

“Can’t catch me!” Taehyung stuck his tongue out at you, stopping dead in his tracks. There was only a couch in between the two of you, which was no obstacle at all. You leaped over it, much to Tae’s surprise - his eyes widened and he began screaming again, frantically running towards the bedrooms.

You tiptoed in and out of each room, having no luck in finding your hyperactive boyfriend. Just as you were about to turn about and head back to the living room, you spotted a faint trail of white footsteps leading toward’s Namjoon and Jeonggguk’s room. You slowly entered and heard a muffled giggle coming from Jeongguk’s closet. Bingo.

“Hmm…I guess he’s not here,” you spoke loud enough to make sure Taehyung could hear you, “guess I’ll just…go back to the living room and, y’know, check there…”

You started walking on the spot, immitating the sound of footsteps going down the hall. When Taehyung didn’t come out from the closet, as quietly as you could, you sauntered over to the wooden structure. After counting to three in your head, you whipped the doors open. 

Taehyung let out a panicked screech before jumping out of the closet and wrapping his arms around your body, quickly tackling you to Jeongguk’s bed. He was lying on top of you, his chin resting on your chest while he looked up at you an giggled. 

“You’re gonna get his sheets covered in flour!” you laughed, thinking of the consequences which lay ahead of your boyfriend. Jeongguk did not like mess, especially on his bed.

“He’s a horny teenager. It won’t be the first time his sheets are covered in white stuff,” Taehyung laughed and you cringed at the thought. 

When the two of you had calmed down, Tae got on his hands and knees and crawled forwards, your faces now parallel. 

“You look cute,” you said quietly, admiring his messy hair and rose tinted cheeks. His eyes were big and curious, his lips full and plump and so, so kissable. It were almost as if Taehyung could read your mind as he closed the small gap in between your lips. 

The kiss was soft and gentle. It wasn’t rushed, there were no tongues involved; just the delicate touch of Taehyung’s lips on yours. He now had his elbows keeping him upright, his hands cupping your cheeks. When you both pulled apart, you rested your forehead against his. The two of you stayed like this for a while until Taehyung spoke up.

“I missed this,” he whispered, looking lovingly into your eyes. Just the week before, he was away doing promotions for BTS’ new album. You were so unbelieveabley proud of Taehyung - he was pursuing his dreams and making an incredible job of it. He could sing, dance and act - he truly was showcasing his talents for the whole world to appreciate.

Of course, this came with down sides. One of them being the fact that he was away a lot. This mean’t dates were few and far between, alone time was even rarer and even though there were a few burts of energy and a hunger for pleasure, you and Taehyung’s sex life was practically non-existent. So, moments like these ,where you could take things slowly and truly explore each other, were held closely by the both of you. 

“I missed this too,” you laughed softly, looking up into his chocolate coloured eyes. They dazzled and sparkled in the soft light peeking through the purple curtains, the light illuminating each sharp feature on his face. He looked stunning, eretheral, gorgeous. 

You leaned in once more, pressing your lips to his. Once again it was gentle - there was no need to rush because you had at least another hour before everyone got home. Tae pulled back after a few seconds, smirking down at you.

“Let’s get cleaned up, yeah? I’ll start the shower.”

Originally posted by helendrv


ok so this is my first scenario and i know my writing isn’t that good but i wanted to test the waters. this is like a pilot i guess,,, i hope u like it ! ! !  

i’d really appreciate feeback my babes <3 


※ If you could get this man into the snow in the first place you deserve an award. He’d much rather prefer to stay inside, where it’s warm, and relax. Still, if you somehow convinced him to go outside his first thought would be to go back inside.

※ You’d need to think fast to keep him outside. A snowball? That should work perfectly! When he felt the cold snow hit him on his body he’d quickly turn to find the culprit.

※ When’s he realizes it was you he’d sigh, in both amusement and distaste, before asking why you did that.

※ After he was sent another snowball, this one to the face, you knew that war was coming. The competitive look in his eyes and how easily he made his own snowball was enough proof that your demise was soon.

※ Hanzo would play unfairly. He already has good aim and with his stealth he could easily overpower you- which is exactly what he did.

※ After he declared himself the winner of the “friendly fight” he’d laugh and make a comment on how much snow you were covered in.


※ This cowboy would be all about snowball fights.

※ It didn’t snow much when he was younger so he’s never got to enjoy it but when he experienced his first month of snow he loved it. He loved it even more since you were there with him.

※ Now, if you’ve seen how good of aim he has with his revolver then you’d know that he doesn’t miss any shots. The same goes for throwing snowballs.

※ He’d be the first one to engage the fight. Throwing one at you before you could even ready yourself.

※ He’d be cocky while you two fought, commenting on how “you almost got me!” before moving to the side to easily dodge another one of your attempts to get him.

※ When the fight is over you can bet that he’d flaunt about his good aim all while trying to dust some snow off of you.


※ Lucio would be the one to ask you first if you wanted to hang out in the snowball and possibly have a snowball fight.

※ When you agreed his eyes would light up and he’d already be dragging you onto the snow covered ground to have some fun.

※ As you two enjoyed the cold and calm weather, Lucio would be wondering if he should just throw a snowball at you or ask first.

※ If he’s feeling a bit devious he would walk a bit away from you and ready a snowball before throwing it, enjoying how it caught you by surprise.

※ If he’s feeling like his polite-self and asked first, he’d ready a snowball in front of you as a warning to go get some cover. It doesn’t take him long before he throws it at you.

※ Either way, in the end you two are covered in snow and laughing together while you planned another trip together like this.

Sign of the Times

→ You can find Chapter 1 here and request a fanfiction here!

Bughead + FP x Alice parallels  

Chapter 2: Letters and Melodies

Betty had skipped class that monday morning, she was too embarrassed to face Jughead. What would she say if she encounter him? How would she solve things? He didn’t even wanted to hear her after the fight, nor could FP convince him.

Alone at home, she was still crying about that night’s events. Chuck Clayton had exposed her deepest secret and now everyone knew that part of her, the part Betty was ashamed of. Her dark side, the one she could not control it.

The palms of her hands were burning. She no longer knew what to do. She had lost herself.

It was after ten in the morning when she decided she needed to do something to distract herself before her thoughts drove her crazy. Betty put on her shoes and decided to look in the basement for something to do. As a child, she and Polly loved spending time finding their parents’ antiques, making up stories with the items they found.

Back in the basement, Betty began rummaging through the places she could not reach as a child, places where her mother kept things she did not want to find again.

There, among dusty shoe boxes and old sheets, Betty found a hardcover book, it has already yellowed pages, hidden in the bottom of the last shelf. When she took it in her hands, she noticed a padlock locking it’s pages. She frowned, was it a diary? Alice’s, maybe?

Encouraged by the possible mystery, Betty Cooper wiped the dust off the cover of the journal with her sweater and sprinted back to her room. It was there, between the pillows in her bed, that Betty discovered a story she had never dreamt to exist. A great love story, almost unbelievable.

That was Alice’s diary, and it’s pages were filled with Forsythe Pendleton Jones II.

January 13, 1997

Dear Diary,

I’m so happy I finally got the waitress job at Pop’s, it’s nighttime, so it pays well. It is very comforting to know that I am far from the place I am obliged to call home, but it also means less time with FP. He also works at night on the Twilight Drive on Thursdays and Fridays, and during the afternoon he helps Fred’s parents with the family business. So we’ll only see each other at school, but it will be worth it.

Our dreams are finally becoming true.

We’re going to get out of here. I know it.

May 22, 1997

Dear Diary,

I’m so tired! Working at Pop’s takes all my energy, and I have to work hard to get good grades aswell, without them I’ll never be able to get into the journalism course I desire so much. Hermione says I have to get lighter, but how? I need the damn money. We need.

FP got a scholarship in Notre Dame! He always been too smart for a small town like Riverdale. We’re going together, it’s our chance, but FP is being surrounded by the Serpents again, and I’m afraid he’ll do something wrong.

August 6, 1997

My mother left. She didn’t say goodbye. She left me alone like I was an old disposable furniture. I didn’t cry, I just stood there watching her leave through the night.

She was the last one to leave me, now there is only FP left.

We were both constantly abandoned, but will we one day abandon each other as well?

August 22, 1997

FP and I had a fight because of Hal Cooper.

When will Forsythe realize that I have zero interest in these boys?

FP is my past, my present and also my future.

I love him so much that it hurts in my chest. It is possible to love somebody that much?

September 9, 1997

FP is sleeping by my side, his face looks so much younger when he’s relaxed, not thinking about our problems. His handsomeness leaves me breathless.

I love him.

October 18, 1997

Our fights are constant; FP wants to accept the business with the Serpents. He wants to make a delivery on their behalf and get the money we need to leave Riverdale.

I’m afraid of losing him.

A noise in the front door made Betty Cooper hide the diary under the mattress of her bed, hurriedly, she wiped away the tears streaming down her face and rushed into the bathroom. She tried to calm herself, but her heart was pounding in her chest, the sensation was almost painful. Her mother did not love her father, she loved another man. FP Jones,  Jughead’s father, member of the Southside Serpents, the misfit from the wrong side of the tracks.

Her mother loved a Jones.

The panic attack came without Betty being able to fight it. She slipped to the floor, her body was trembling and her hands were ice cold. She could barely breathe. Her sobbing filled the empty bathroom for until there were no more sounds. She fainted.


When she woke up, Betty was back on her bed with her mom massaging her feet.

“Mom?” -  She asked.

“Honey! Have you had your pills today?“ - Alice asked, approaching Betty and holding her hands.

"Yes.” - Betty lied. “It was just a drop of pressure, I haven’t eaten today.” - She said, sitting up in bed and smiling weakly at Alice.

“Well, I’ll make you a nice lunch, then.” - Alice said, winking at Betty and walking out of the room.

Betty waited for lunch to be ready and forced herself to eat with Alice without asking her about what she had just discovered, she knew that her mother would lie, or even say that Betty was hallucinating. Then, after Alice got back to work, Betty took the diary and put it in her backpack along with her things, grabbed a jacket and went to the construction site on the Drive-In land.

She needed to talk with FP Jones.


“Mr Jones?” The melodious voice of Betty Cooper startled FP at first. He turned to face the girl, who looked paler than usual.

"Hey, Betty.” - He replied, taking off his helmet and walking alongside the girl towards the trailer.

“Can we talk?” - Betty asked, standing in front of FP.

“Is it about Jughead? Look, I… “ - He stopped talking as Betty removed the blue notebook from her backpack and showed him. FP held the material in his hands, overwhelmed.

Of course he remembered that diary. How could he forget, if he was the one that had given it to Alice, twenty years ago.

“Can we talk?”- Betty asked again, getting only a head shake back. FP was still staring at the  blue cover. Twenty years later, but it still seemed like yesterday. Her scent was still there, the glance of her smile and all the memories one day they had shared together.


“You read it?”- FP asked, back in his trailer, sitting in his armchair.

"Just a few parts, the beginning mostly…” - Betty replied, sitting uncomfortably on the couch. “I just need to know what …” before Betty could continue, FP stood up suddenly.

“You didn’t tell this to Jughead, did you?” - FP asked, taking the diary in his hands. Betty shook her head. “Shit, this cannot be happening, so long after…” - FP grunted, his face sinking into his hands, his expression in pure sorrow. Betty felt bad for him.

“I’m sorry; I just need to know the truth.” - Betty was sincere, looking up at FP. They stared at each other for a moment, until, without saying anything, he left the room and returned short after, holding what seemed to be letters.

"If you want to know the story, at least know all parts of it.” - He said, handing the papers to Betty.

“What are these letters?” - Betty asked, picking up a sheet of paper.

“They’re not letters, they’re lyrics … Songs, poems … I don’t know, I was never good with words like your mother, but I tried to say … Explain what it felt like.” - He answered, taking a bottle of whiskey and throwing himself back into the chair, drinking the liquid from the bottle.

“You can keep it. I don’t want it anymore.” - It was the last thing he said before he broke off. Betty was silent, alternating glances between the papers on her lap and her father-in-law. Then she decided it was time to leave and on the way home, unable to help herself, she read one of the sheets.

“Under the diner neon lights

she smiled at me

And for a few seconds

Before everything turned to ashes

The whole world became

A good place to live…”

anonymous asked:

Super Sappy Lines Prompt #17 for TsukkiYama if you're still doing this!! <3

I’m still doing them! I’ve got four more still to write as well, so everyone who sent a request in, don’t worry! I’m working on them! Thanks for your patience and I hope you enjoy <3 <3

Tsukkiyama - “Because I love you!” (based on this prompt list) ((also whoops I just now noticed it had an exclamation mark on the end, so I wrote it in a biiiit of a different tone))

The clock on the desk read two forty-five a.m when Tsukishima walked into his room, his hair in disarray and an agitated frown on his face. He had his arms crossed over his chest, obscuring the print of his old volleyball shirt from hight school. Yamaguchi looked up from the textbook in front of him and blinked his eyes a few times to clear the blur of numbers and equations away.  

“Don’t you have class in the morning? Like, in a few hours?” Yamaguchi asked when Tsukishima made no move to come farther in the room. “Why are you still awake?”

“Your light is bothering me,” he answered. Behind him and across the hall Yamaguchi could see the open door and into Tsukishima’s room. The lights were off, and his bed sheets were pulled to the side, as if he had thrown them off in a moment of frustration.        

“And you need to go to bed,” Tsukishima added.

Yamaguchi sighed and glanced at the book on the desk, the words and figures swimming in his vision. If he concentrated he could still make everything out well enough. He probably should have started earlier, but the middle of the night always snuck up on him before he even thought of starting his classwork.

“In a bit, I’ve still got to finish this reading.”

In the doorway Tsukshima clicked his tongue.

“Finish it in the morning. You’re exhausted. Come to bed.”

Again Yamaguchi looked past Tsukishima and into the other room. The shadows were inviting, and the pillows pushed up against the head board he knew to be full of soft down. In contrast his own bed was almost as messy as Tsukishima’s hair; the covers were tangled and half off the mattress, a stack of magazines was scattered on one side, and a bag of half eaten chips was nested by the pillows. If he didn’t want to wake up with chip dust in his hair it would be another fifteen minutes just to make space for himself on the bed.

Just thinking of sleeping made Yamaguchi realize how tired he really was. He shut the textbook and stood, stretching his arms up and yawning.

“To your bed?” he asked Tsukishima, hopeful.

“If that’s what’ll get you to sleep, yeah.”

Across the hall in Tsukishima’s room Yamaguchi crawled into the left side of the bed - the side he reserved for himself every time he slept in it. When Tsukishima took off his glasses and slid in next to him, Yamaguchi wiggled closer. Tsukishima’s arms were already wrapping around him, his body moving until they fit snugly together.

With the lights off, Yamaguchi could only just make out Tsukishima’s features. His eyes were already closed, the lines of stress on his face smoothed over. He must be exhausted this late at night. Yamaguchi felt a pang of guilt that he played a hand in keeping Tsukishima awake so long. But from this spot on the bed…

“The light wasn’t really bothering you, was it?” he asked.

“Not really.”

Yamaguchi pressed his face into Tsukishima’s chest, though in the dark there was no danger of Tsukishima nothing the blush that was creeping over his cheeks.

“Why do you always look out for me so much?” he asked, and a thousand situations played in his memories of Tsukishima checking in on him or fussing over him in his own subtle way. He was always there to make sure Yamaguchi got enough sleep and remembered to eat dinner, or to remind him that he was cared for and important when he was feeling anything but.

“Because I love you,” Tsukishima mumbled, kissing the top of Yamaguchi’s head. “Now go to sleep for god sake.”

Tale As Old As Time: A FinnRey AU

Chapter One

A/N: Okay, so I’m really nervous about posting this. This is my first fic written with two canon characters, and my first fic I’m posting publicly, so please be gentle! However, feedback would be much appreciated. This first chapter is a lot of exposition to get the plot rolling, but I promise chapter two will be much more interesting. It’s also very short, so sorry about that! Hopefully its enjoyable :)

Warnings: None :)

Word Count: 794

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Originally posted by coffee-inan-iv

Requested by at least 10 people <3
Original [x] [1]


I know he’s there… he’s always there….waiting…

“And how exactly do you plan on controlling a schizophrenic, Waller? Don’t get me wrong, the idea is very appealing, but is it even possible?” The unnamed man asked, his narrowed eyes staring directly into the depths of Amanda’s, “Because from what I’ve read about this… (Lastname) is that she sees the devil.” There was a menacing smile in his voice, though it quickly fell as Amanda smiled.

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P is for Pneumonia (16/26)

Fandom: Star Trek (AOS/TOS)
Prompt: Fic 16 of 26 in the CMO’s Log – A to Z series.  Click here for a listing of all the fics in this series!  P is for Pneumonia.
Word Count: 3076
Nothing overly graphic.
Rating:  Teen+
Author’s Note: I literally had a half-dozen ideas for this.  Pregnancy, pneumonia, poisoning, panic disorder, phobia… the list goes on.  As such, I’ve woven a few different things into this fic to touch on a few different areas!  This is also the longest fic I’ve written for this series so far, so yay!

P is for Pneumonia

You cough violently, almost to the point of retching, as you’re showered in pollen from several extremely large, hibiscus-like flowers hanging overhead.  You’d accidentally spooked some birds a few moments ago and they’d liberated the pollen as they’d flown by the flowers on their way off.  Now you’re waving your arms frantically, trying to clear the air as the pollen settles on your clothes and hair in a thin layer, the fine, golden powder smudging all over you as you try to brush it off.

You’ve been sampling the local flora on the previously uncontacted planet your team is scouting, but the pollen is so irritating that you have to stop.  Packing up your kit and samples, you rush away from the area, still coughing forcefully as you break out into a nearby clearing and take your first proper breath since before the pollen shower.

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Hmm should I take Agent Mike Quinn through Iokath next
Or Republic toon?

I got 8 chapters of kotet to grind with my jedi and almost all alliance alerts (can you do them after or do they disappear?)

Somehow I figure jedi will be more interesting/different But then again Mike is ready and the thought of double Quinns dancing around fleet covered in glitter dust appeals to me.


Title: Ride With Me - part five
Serie’s prompt: Alternate Universe (AH) in which the reader is a horse rider who goes to a ranch in Arizona to gain work experience. During her time on the ranch she develops a strong connection with a wrangler and horse trainer named Dean. A story about a cowboy who falls for the girl, a story about the importance of family.
Prompt part 5: A hard day’s work is over and after a little initiation on the Reader’s first day, it’s time to have a fun night!
Words: 4489 words
Characters: Dean, Benny, Jo, Ash, Garth (Bobby and Ellen mentioned)
Pairings: Dean x reader (not in this part yet, you have to be a little patient)
Warnings: language and mild drinking for this part, maybe even a little fluff?
Author’s note: I’m excited about this part! Who wouldn’t
Tags: Below the story. Want to get tagged? Send me a message!

Read part one, part two, part three and part four here!

6.40 PM: your exhausting first working day at Gold Canyon Ranch is over. You didn’t expect the time to fly by as it did. But turning out the horses, sweeping the floors and cleaning the tack actually offered a soothing satisfaction. It was a nice variation to pitching business plans and writing on your thesis, which basically has been all you’ve done for the past eight months. The work here was simple, therapeutic almost. That you didn’t get ride a single horse yet doesn’t even bother you. What does, is the fact that you are drenched in sweat and covered in dust and horse hairs. You can feel dirt tickle in your cleavage under your bra, in your socks and beneath the denim of your jeans, somehow the particles got absolutely everywhere, mixing with the layer of moist that covers your entire body. You watch Dean lock up the tack room which you sorted out while Jo took a group of twelve guests on a mountain hack. He glances through the glass four-squared window impressed before he turns to you. You suggested to organize the tack yourself, after noticing the messy storage place. To the head wrangler’s and Garth’s delight he didn’t even have to assign you that task.
  “Good job. I don’t think it has ever been this neat”, he compliments.
You smile at that, raking your fingers through your dirty hair. It feels like you haven’t washed it for a week.
  “Thanks”, you reply, happy that your work is being appreciated.

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(A/N): I don’t know what this is, I thought of it and was like, yes

Summary: Even after Bucky has been liberated from Hydra, whenever he hears those words it damn near gives him a heart attack

Warnings: Bucky’s trigger words, anxiety attacks, baby buck needs a hug

Originally posted by dailyteamcap

     Bucky had finally been liberated from his actual hell on earth, from all those years of pain and torture, all those years of him inflicting pain and torture upon others. He was a free man now, he could do whatever he wanted whenever he wanted; he could go out and experience the sky and wind for the first time in years, truly experience it, he could go out and read as many books as he wanted or watch as much TV as he pleased, and if he just so wanted to he could fall in love, and fall in love he did. 

    Bucky had absolutely fallen for the seemingly shy, quiet, person who was always lurking in the tower, always there to fix something or talk to Tony. The only problem had been that he himself was still a bit on the shy and quiet side, after all he had just gotten full repaired and he was such a nervous wreck around people that he could barely talk to Steve much less this gorgeous, albeit awkward, person who could barely speak a word to any of the other avengers. 

   It had taken Bucky some time to open up to (Y/N), slowly starting to chip away at his own shell to reach out and chip away at (Y/N)’s. It had started out as soft smiles and awkwardly shared gazes but soon enough Bucky had worked up enough courage to actually talk to the damn person. 

   “Sherlock holmes, hm?” Bucky asks as he sits across from (Y/N) who at the moment was reading in one of Tony’s labs, their face conveying every emotion they felt when they were reading. (Y/N) stares up at Bucky over the cover of the book, their shy nature starting to take ahold. “Is it any good? I wanted to read it back in the day but I never really got the chance,” (Y/N) seems to be frozen a bit, their eyes glued on the ex soldier as he attempted to strike up an almost normal conversation with what he was sure was his dream person. 

    “U-Um yeah,” They stutter, their cheeks dusting a light pink as they speak softly, almost too quiet for Bucky to hear. “Sometimes the timeline of it all is a bit confusing but other than that it’s really good,” Bucky smiles, nodding his head at the progress they were making. They’d gone from never having spoken a word to having a nearly perfect conversation. “I could uh- I could let you borrow the book sometime?” They suggest lightly, their voice even smaller and squeakier than before. 

   Bucky could feel his heart clenching at the mere sweetness of this person. How had he ever been nervous to approach them, especially when they were so nervous themself. 

   “Yeah,” Bucky smiles a bit wider, nodding to himself. “I’d like that,” 

   That one moment, that single little conversation with those awkward words and stolen smiles sparked something deep within the two; an almost primal need for human physical connection, to have some bond with someone rather than themselves for once. It had been so sudden, this want- need for each other, for that connection that they had only felt together, so it was a bit of a surprise to all the other avengers when one day they all walked into Bucky’s floor to grab him for training when they found the two fast asleep, cuddling on the couch as though it were the most normal thing to do. 

   From that day on Bucky and (Y/N) were just known to be together, as though they always had been, like that had always been the way things were and all these months later, nearly 12, it still remained true. They had a happy, healthy, more than loving relationship…well almost healthy. 

   There were some things Bucky never talked about, to anyone, not Steve, not Nat, not (Y/N), he himself could barely stand to think about said things. Most of them revolved around his time with Hydra, the torture, the pain, the brainwashing. Most of the time Bucky was able to keep it under control, the constant fear that lingered over him because of all these thoughts, but sometimes that fear would creep up on him and pounce upon him like a predator stalking its prey. 

    “(Y/N)!” Steve called from the kitchen as he slipped some shoes on. “How many boxes of poptarts did Thor want?” (Y/N), who was seated beside Bucky on the couch, the latter curled into their side. 

   “I think he said seventeen,” (Y/N) yells back, not even thinking about the word they had just uttered. Bucky’s entire body goes rigid and his eyes shoot open in pure fear and terror. 

    It was okay, it was just one word, nothing more. 

    “The man eats like a damn cow,” (Y/N) chuckles lightly, not even noticing the way Bucky had tensed at that word. 

   You’re fine, Bucky found himself mentally repeating. You’re okay, it’s just (Y/N) talking to Steve, not Hydra. 

    “Hey Buck?” (Y/N) asks softly, gently poking at his cheek to gain his attention. “You okay?” Bucky nearly whipped right up, his expression full of so much fear and pain that it was nearly heart shatteringly painful. He attempts to play it off, smiling softly as he nods, hoping that his smile looked more real than it felt. 

    “Y-Yeah…” He breathes out shakily, staring down at his hands for a moment. “I’m good, just a little flashback is all,” (Y/N)’s gaze upon him is sad and sympathetic and when they open their arms up to invite him into their embrace he can’t help but accept, curling into their side once again.

   “It’s okay Bucky,” (Y/N) whispers against his forehead, their lips pressed against his temple in a soft kiss. “You’re here with me, not on some train, or in some foreign country; you’re here with me, Avengers Tower 2016,” Bucky nods against them, only feeling a bit consoled. 

   He hoped it was only a one time thing, that this fear of some silly words would eventually go away but as time ticked by he was only disappointed, once again. 

     The next time it happened was even more painful and obvious than the last time and it damn near cost everyone their lives too. 

   “Bucky!” Steve yelled as he threw his shield at some creature they’d been fighting. “The herd is in the freight car, we gotta take ‘em down and-” But Bucky had stopped listening as soon as Steve had yelled that word. That one word in that stupid sequence that nearly gave him a heart attack anytime it was used. 

   He froze on the spot, unable to move or think, unable to do much other than try to stop from having a mental breakdown then and there. 

   “Bucky!” Steve yells again, thinking the man hadn’t heard him. “Freight car! Now!” The word sent chills of fear up his spine and he was sure he was shaking on the spot, just staring at said freight car with an expression of pure terror. Thank god Nat had been there to follow out Steve’s orders otherwise they’d all have been dead within minutes. 

   The fighting stops as the herd dies down, Nat having completely blown up the freight car and not a moment too soon.

    “What the hell Barnes?” Tony yells as he touches down on the ground, his mask lifting from his face so he could glare at Bucky more efficiently. “We just about died because of you, what were you thinking?” 

    “I-I, I don’t know, I just froze up, I don’t know why,” He lied, hanging his head in shame. God, they were all staring at him like he was some kind of circus freak or something. Tony opens his mouth to start yelling again when Steve stops him, raising a hand up to silence him. 

    “Don’t let it happen again Bucky,” Bucky nods, attempting not to cry in front of his teammates so he hangs his head, sniffling inconspicuously. 

   “I won’t,” And yet, against his every hope and prayer it did. 

 “Goddamit,” Tony grumbled, chucking his wrench somewhere in the room. “The furnace is broken,” Bucky shouldn’t have been affected like this, his entire body went rigid and his mouth ran dry. 

    The image of white lab coats and freezing chambers entered his mind, causing Bucky to shiver on the spot. Then he was strapped to a chair, fiery bolts of pain running through his body and within a those damn words were being chanted at him, like a mantra he never ever wanted to hear again. 

   “Bucky?” An almost far off sounding voice penetrated his momentary nightmare. “Bucky, baby, are you okay?” His nightmare began to dissipate, leaving him feeling dizzy as the real world, the one he was in at the moment, began to slowly return. It started off with shapes and blurry colors before gaining some clarity. 

    (Y/N) stood before Bucky, their face etched with concern as they reached a hand out to steady the swaying Bucky. Tony was beside them, his arms outstretched as he prepared to catch Bucky’s falling mass. Instead Bucky turned to (Y/N) for support, nearly slumping into their arms as he sighs shakily, breathing in and out just as shakily too. 

   “Hey, you okay? Thought you were going to pass out on us there,” 

   “N-No,” He whispers, whether that be to the men mentally torturing him some miles away in decades past or to (Y/N) who’s his entire support right now. “No,” He states a little clearer this time, having decided he was talking to (Y/N) rather than those horrible men. “I’m good,” (Y/N) pulls back at this, just enough to get a good look at Bucky’s paling face. 

   “No you aren’t Buck,” (Y/N)’s brow furrows in confusion as they reach up to feel Bucky’s forehead, wondering if he was overheated or something. “You’re really clammy, I think we should go lay down for a bit-” 

   “No,” Bucky staggers a bit as he attempts to pull away from (Y/N), his strength starting to slowly return. “I’m fine, let’s just- let’s just help Tony repair this thing and then we can go,” (Y/N) eyes him warily as he has to lean on some lab table to keep from falling over. 

   “Bucky, are you-” 

   “Yes (Y/N),” Bucky mutters through a clenched jaw. “Let’s just get back to work, please,” Despite (Y/N) being worried about him they turn back to Tony to help once again, every once in awhile casting Bucky a side glance here and there. 

    Bucky had been fine throughout the rest of the little furnace fix up, only showing signs of being ill when he’d get a little too lost in thought, his mind going to places not even the devil wanted to venture to. It was when Tony made some comment that Bucky started up once again. 

   “Damn it,” He cursed, raking a hand down his grease covered face. “It’s rusted, here and here, and-” Tony stops short when a quiet whimper issues from behind the pair, meaning it only belonged to the only other person in there; Bucky. 

   “No,” He whispered, his chest beginning to rise and fall rapidly, his hands shaking as they clench at his sides. “Please don’t,” His eyes are screwed shut tight as his lips part in quiet please. 

    “(Y/N) what’s wrong? Is he okay?” Tony whispers, his expression holding only horror and concern for the soldier before him. 

    “No, god no,” Bucky whimpers again, his entire body now shaking in fear.  

    “Oh my god,” (Y/N) whispers, their eyes widening in shock. “He hasn’t had a panic attack in months,” Immediately they get to work, gingerly attempting to bring Bucky back to real time. They stand between his legs, gently cupping his cheeks in their hands as they whisper into his ear. “Bucky, it’s okay, you’re okay, you’re safe here I promise. You’re in Avengers tower 2016, come on baby snap out if it,” (Y/N) pleads, they themself growing frantic over Bucky’s steadily rising heartbeat. “Can you open your eyes, just let me see those eyes bucky,” Bucky’s breathing hasn’t slowed down in the slightest and (Y/N)’s afraid he may pass out with the way he was breathing so shallowly and quickly. 

    “Bucky,” (Y/N) takes on a more demanding voice, hoping it would snap him out of whatever funk he was in. “Look at me,” Bucky whimpers softly, cracking one of his eyes open to stare at (Y/N). “Hey,” (Y/N) runs their hands along his jawline, hoping that the usually soothing gesture would do just that, soothe. “It’s okay Bucky,” Bucky closes his eye once again, shaking his head vehemently. (Y/N) sighs softly, their heart aching for poor Bucky. “Is it okay if I hug you? Would you rather I stay away?” (Y/N)’s question is immediately answered when Bucky wraps his arms around their hips, tugging them closer to his body.

     (Y/N) nods as they gently settle their arms around Bucky, being careful not to startle him or scare him in anyway. (Y/N) doesn’t even know what to say to Bucky as he whimpers and sniffles against them, holding them as though it may be his last time. 

    “Can you match your breathing to mine?” (Y/N) asks, gently brushing his hair to the side as they do so. “Think you can do that? Just a steady in, out?” Bucky nods against them, sighing shakily as he does so. It takes a few minutes for him to slow his breathing but he does it, his chest now rising and falling at a normal pace. “Are you okay?” (Y/N) asks hesitantly, their voice having dropped to a whisper minutes ago. Bucky exhales shakily, starting to nod his head yes, but quickly stopping himself when he realized it was pointless to lie. 

    “N-No,” He sounds as if he may cry and it only makes it all the more heartbreaking. He gulps, his adams apple bobbing a bit as he buries his face in the crook of (Y/N)’s neck. 

    “What do you need from me?” (Y/N) asks as they reach up to run their fingers through his hair, hoping it would only calm him down further. 

    “Please,” Bucky’s voice cracks, “Just hold me,” (Y/N) nods, wrapping him up a  little tighter. 

    “I think I should just…” Tony trails off, gesturing between the two of you and then to the door. “I think I’m just gonna leave,” (Y/N) nod their head, smiling at the man a bit before turning their attention back to still shaking man in their arms. Tony makes a quiet exit, leaving the two people in the room all alone. 

    No one speaks for a bit, not yet, not after the sheer rawness of what happened. Instead (Y/N) merely holds Bucky close, allowing him to hug them back as though his life depended on it. 

    “Hydra had these words,” Bucky finally speaks up, swallowing the lump that seems to be collecting at his throat. “That would- they’d trigger the winter soldier,” He can feel the tears pin pricking his eyes, blurring and obscuring everything in his sight. “Sometimes when someone says any of the words it just- it just scares me really bad,” 

   No one truly knew about hit trigger words, other than Steve of course, so having to open up to someone about it was more than a little painful. 

    “Oh Bucky,” (Y/N) coos, their heart shattering for him. “I’m so sorry, I wish you’d told us so we could have known what words not to use-” 

    “You can’t just stop saying certain words because of me,” Bucky whispers, his tone sounding even more broken than before. “They’re kinda common words, I’ll just have to get over this somehow,” 

    “Bucky, I- God I’m so sorry you have to deal with this,” (Y/N) really was sorry, seeing Bucky having to breakdown like this all because of a word was truly heartbreaking. The man just deserved peace for one fucking minute of his life. Bucky doesn’t say anything, he merely holds (Y/N) a bit tighter as though they were his lifeline, the only thing keeping him grounded, and sighs against them, his breathing still attempting to go back to it’s relaxed state. 

    It was going to take awhile for Bucky to return back to normal, to not have a damn panic attack every time those words were uttered but at least he didn’t have to do it alone, he had his favorite human being by his side to help him along. 

( AO3 )

The flannel is too big for Dean, and its shoulders and its upper back are heavy with cold rain water. It’s not what’s making him shake, however. Not even the steady rumble of the Impala’s engine or John’s low, comforting grunts as he plans the way half-audibly to himself behind the wheel are enough to make it stop, but at least he’s calming down now. Sam’s curled up over his side, half of him resting on Dean’s lap and his fingers absently playing with his plump baby lips: usually Dean would smack his hand down, tell him he’s too old to nibble at his thumb, but this time he’s doing nothing of the sort. Instead, he’s got his arm around Sam’s shape and he’s holding him tight, his own fingers crossed over the boy’s waist, and the warmth and the sheer presence of his baby brother there is the only thing that really matters.

John had turned his back for five minutes.

Keep reading

Request: Marry me, Killer

Request: How do you think each guy would react to their old lady proposing to them? Maybe you could write an imagine about that for one of the son, it could be fucking romantic!!

I took a vote to decide about which Son would be this imagine and you can read all about it HERE and HERE.

I thought about Mr. Lowman’s reaction and I decided to do it romantic. I hope it works for you. Enjoy!

Originally posted by imaginesamcro

He wasn’t just a Son, he was the guy who tortured people for Samcro and his nickname was Killer. People around Charming knew he was a bad guy and Happy Lowman loved that life; the bikes, guns and girls. However, and he would never admit that to his brothers, even a bad guy needed to settle down, he just hadn’t found the right girl yet.

After years, patiently waiting for the girl, he finally thought his luck was changing and it was when you entered in the SAMCRO clubhouse, following Bobby. You were almost like Bobby’s daughter, he had dated your mother years ago, before you two left Charming. Now you were back, alone, to work at St. Thomas, in the hospital’s administration. You were beautiful, a nice and funny girl, who became a friend to everybody around the clubhouse very quickly.

Happy found himself gravitating around you, wanting to know more and slowly letting you get closer, like he never let anyone do before. You were always ready to listen, no judging, not even the bloody stains…

“Jesus!”, Happy heard your voice as he walked in the clubhouse, feeling fine despite the blood flowing down his face. He had a nasty wound on his scalp, a bullet had ripped through. “What happened?”

“He is fine”, Chibs said, followed by Jax and Tig. All of them had their clothes covered in dust, they almost got in some real trouble that afternoon.

“He need stitches”, you were on your tiptoes, looking at his head. You took his hand, dragging Happy to Jax’s office. “Come on”

He followed you, noticing your hand was cold as you made him sit, before grab a medical kit. Happy stood still, you knew what you were doing and he trusted you.

“How did this happen?”, you asked, cleaning the wound. Your hands were still cold, but carefully doing your task.

“A bullet, it ripped through”, Happy said and noticed you shiver. You walked away, preparing the instruments to do the stitches. “I’m fine”

You nodded and stayed behind him, slowly closing his wound. You stayed in silence all the time, which was not like you at all. When you finished and started to gather all the medical supplies, Happy saw your lips pressed together and the almost obsessive away you were cleaning the things you had used.

“Y/N”, he called, making you stop. “What is wrong?”

“You could have died”, you whispered, finally looking at him. Happy blinked a few times, your expression was something new for him, worry, fear…

“I’m fine”, he mumbled. You nodded again and walked closer to him. He looked up as your thumb traced his low lip.

“Thank God you are fine”, you whispered. It seemed that the world had stopped. Happy slowly reached for your knee and spread your legs. He saw you took a deep breath as he made you straddle him. You stared at each other, your lips apart as you moved your eyes to his own. “Happy…I…I got scared…”

“I’m here baby girl…I’m here”, he whispered as you nodded, your hands on his shoulders. His hands were in your lower back, keeping you close. He felt your hands moving to his neck, his jaw and cupping his face. 

“Happy…”, you whispered before kiss him. He groaned, pressing you against him, arms tight around you. It was like a dream, it was finally happening, he had found you.


Happy Lowman had caught your attention since the moment you met him. As soon as you got the job at St. Thomas you called Bobby, your mother’s ex-boyfriend and your best friend. He was like a father to you and happily helped you to move back to Charming, taking you to SAMCRO clubhouse.

Everybody became your friend there, but Happy was the closest one. He had this constant stoic expression and his fame preceded him. You knew he was the Killer, but you weren’t afraid. You knew him like no one else did, Happy talked to you and based on what you had heard, that wasn’t like him at all.

You cared about him, but you weren’t sure about what you were feeling. Your failed previous relationships had left you cautious, you had learnt to take things slow. However, when Happy entered the clubhouse with blood flowing down his face, you froze. Fear crept inside your mind, you couldn’t stop thinking about what could have happened. That was when you realized how much you liked him and discovered he was feeling the same.

He didn’t waste time, Happy made you his and let everyone knows about it. People were surprised, but you didn’t care, you loved Happy and he was being a great boyfriend, making you feel loved every moment you were together. You knew you had said you would take things slow from now on, but your resolution wasn’t so strong anymore. You loved Happy, he was the one and only for you.

However, after months together, Happy seemed to change. He was quiet and he wasn’t like that with you, since you talked about everything, anytime. He had been doing some errands during the day and nobody knew where he was. You didn’t want to confront him, but you were worried and hoped that your trust in each other would overcome anything.


He couldn’t be happier, you were amazing, the old lady of his dreams and your relationship was the best thing in his life. Happy still couldn’t believe you loved him, he never thought he would get the girl, a girl like you. He didn’t think twice, you were his and he didn’t care about what the world thought.

He knew you had bad relationships in your past, but he was determined to prove to you he wasn’t going to fail, you were his one and only. You were together for a few months now and it might be soon, but Happy didn’t want to waste any time, he wanted to build a life with you.

The newspaper had a few adds about houses for sale and he had appointments to see some of them. He wanted everything ready before propose to you, prove he was serious about it and had no doubts. He was afraid, of course, that you would say no, but he had to try.

He parked his bike in your driveway, knowing that he would have to wait for you to get ready. It was a party night at the clubhouse and he was there to pick you up. Happy used his key and called out for you, thinking you were in the bedroom, but when he walked to the living room he saw you there.

“Hey baby, are you ready?”, he frowned. You were with your favorite jeans, but barefoot and wearing an old shirt. You had no makeup on and your hair was in a ponytail.

“Sit down Happy”, you said, motioning for the seat next to you in the couch. “We have to talk”

“What is going on?”, he said carefully as he sat, turning to look at you, your legs under your body.

“You tell me”, you stared at him. “We always talked about everything Hap, but now you are quiet, you don’t tell me what is going on. You know you can always talk to me, don’t you?”

“I know baby”, he cupped your face, resting his forehead against yours. “Everything is fine, don’t worry”

“No, I know it’s not”, you pulled back. “You don’t get all quiet for nothing, not with me”, Happy saw the tears around your eyes and felt desperate, he didn’t know what was on your mind or what he should do. “I’m afraid I’m losing you”

“No, baby girl. You will never lose me”, Happy held you tight, making you straddle him and crashed his lips on yours. He heard your soft moan and moved his lips to your neck, but stopped when he heard your voice again.

“Marry me, Happy”, you said. He pulled back and looked up to you. Your pupils were wide and you were breathing was fast, but he could tell you were serious.

“What?”, he raised an eyebrow. He was supposed to be the one asking that question. He was planning to do so, as soon as he found the perfect house for you two. “Are you proposing?”

“Yes”, you said, serious. “I love you Happy Lowman. Will you marry me?”

“Shit”, he blurted and you immediately left his lap, walking backwards.

“Is this you answer?”, you crossed your arms, your resolution failing. He could see you shivering and the disappointment in your eyes.

“No”, he got up and took your hands in his. “I should be the one asking this question, girl and I was planning to do it”

“You… You were?”, your mouth was ajar, your eyes sparkling. That was the reaction he had been expecting to see when he proposed to you.

“Yes”, he brought your fingers to his lips, kissing them. “I have the ring at the clubhouse and I was looking for a house for us”

“A house?”, you smiled, making his heart skip a beat.

“I wanted everything ready, before ask you to marry me”, he said. “I’m sorry baby, I was nervous and trying to make a surprise. You will never lose me, you don’t have to be afraid.”

“I guess I just ruined your plans then?”, you giggled. It was contagious, making him smile too.

“Kinda”, he shrugged. “I guess great minds think alike”

“Yes, they do”, you stood on your tiptoes and kissed him. Happy held you tight against him. “So… Will you marry me Happy Lowman?”

“Yes, I will”, he laughed, spinning you around. Happy carried you, bridal style to your bedroom, the party completely forgotten. “You are impossible Mrs. Lowman. You know that, don’t you?”

“Yes”, you nuzzled on his neck, nibbling his earlobe. “This will be a great story to tell our kids”

“Easy, baby. Easy”, he whispered, laying you down on bed and hovering over you. “One thing at a time… Meanwhile…We can practice, what you think?”

“Yes…Practicing is good”, you moaned and squirmed under him. Happy grinned, he couldn’t wait to make you his, forever.

A Loving Mother Pt. 2 (Pietro x Reader)

Part 1

Hey guys so I’m writing a sequel to this due to popular demand! This one is going to be pretty long but it’s going to be good :) And I think I’m even going to make a part 3 to this! 

You and Pietro had been dating for a year and a half now and his kids had accepted you as the mother figure in their life. “Come on Y/N!” Amelia begged as she tugged on your hand as they got closer to the beach. The team was on vacation at the beach and it felt like you were on a family vacation. 

“Okay Amelia.” You laugh as she continues to tug on you. “We’re almost there.” You say and once the kids feet touch the sand they go sprinting off in all different directions. Pietro hands you baby Wanda and he runs after them at super speed, rounding them all up. You cough and cover Wanda’s face since he kicked up a lot of sand. 

His sister appeared at your side after the dust cleared. “This is a nice way to end the day isn’t it Y/N?” She asks and hands you one of the beach towels to clean yourself off. 

“I guess so.” You tell her. “But anything is far from calm when the kids are running around.” You look at Pietro chasing his kids around in the sand. 

“How’s mini me doing?” Wanda asks and looks at her niece in your arms. Wanda had recently had her second birthday and she was starting to get big fast. Pretty soon she would start walking. But she didn’t show any signs of trying that yet. But now that she was getting older you could see that she looked a lot like Wanda. 

“Well aside from some sand in her hair she’s been pretty happy this whole day.” You tell Wanda and baby Wanda smiles and holds out her arms towards her Aunt. 

“Wanda!” She says in her cute baby voice and you pass her to Wanda and bring your beach chair and other equipment to your boyfriend and his kids. 

Keep reading

[fic] my hands and heart for your smile

fandom: hunter x hunter

pairing: gon/killua, sort of (ahaha)

notes: set in greed island, right after they’ve defeated razor.

[hope you like it, anorable! <3]


Sometimes, in the quiet moments when they’re alone, Killua thinks it could be a mistake.

Idiot, he thinks to himself, burying his face in the space of his crossed arms propped over his folded legs. Was it bad to want to feel useful? Was it bad to feel wanted? There was nothing wrong with it—or there wouldn’t be, if he weren’t so sentimental about it.

 Would I give up more than my hands? he thinks, tries not to cringe when he flexes his fingers and feels lightning-pain shoot up his arms. He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t do that. So long as there was a plan, opportunities to take, he wouldn’t have to sacrifice anything. Risking everything is stupid. Foolish.

Keep reading

Well, I wanted to write a Halloween fic, but life had a different October in store for me, soooooo. Here, have a ficlet I’m working on for one of my 1k giveaway winners, @locky70910, who requested I fill a prompt about kid orphan Hannibal in love with adult Will. Here’s the first part of that fic. It will be posted on AO3 in its entirety when finished

close your eyes and then you’ll know
PG this part, Explicit overall

Warning for serious age difference (Hannibal is 13, Will is 22), and while there is no slash yet, there is some questionable emotional stuff going on that shouldn’t be. No actual slash until part two (when Hannibal is 18+). Consider yourself warned!

Hannibal Lecter arrived at the group home on a snowy February afternoon. He’d been found squatting in an abandoned house by the cops, and no one knew what to do with him. Thirteen years old and not a word of English, they’d only known him as Hannibal, then. No records anyone could find on how he’d gotten to America, where his parents were, or who they’d even been. No idea how long he’d been on his own, surviving off the land, apparently.

Will had caught a glimpse of his red eyes as Jefferson led Hannibal through the halls on a tour of the home, and he’d know somehow in that moment, with an unshakeable certainty, that Hannibal’s arrival heralded a more destructive and irrevocable change than his father’s death. And Hannibal held his gaze, as if he knew the same thing, and intended to ensure that was the case.

For weeks, Will was careful never to be alone with Hannibal. There was no good reason behind it, being unsettled by thirteen year old’s eyes was ridiculous enough for a man in his twenties, let alone a police officer. Nonetheless, he was easy to avoid. Hannibal kept to himself, away from the other children. The social workers came and went and threw their hands in the air over him. No one knew what to do with him, so they just left him, let it be Jefferson and Gracie’s responsibility, and because they were good people, they accepted it.

But Will was aware of Hannibal watching him from afar. Tucked under the giant oak tree while Will led the kids in a game of baseball. Ensconced in the studyroom, angling himself just right to watch Will in the kitchen as he prepared lunch. Following his comings and goings from the window of his cottage. Unsettling, to say the least, that steady gaze in one so young.

“What do you know about that kid they found in the woods?” he’d press the desk sergeant. It really had nothing to do with him, as a beat cop fresh out of the academy, and everyone else had pretty much forgotten about Hannibal at that point, anyway.

The sergeant shrugged. “Guess they finally found someone to talk to him, but turns out it’s not any easier getting answers out of him in his own language as it is in English. Their freakin’ records are a mess.”

Given the state of the file room at the precinct, Will figured that meant they were pretty dire. He tried to look them over, maybe something would catch his eye. He had a decent grasp on Spanish and French, and there were usually enough cognates to give him an understanding of what he was reading in other languages, but he was at an utter loss with the Lithuanian.

On Sunday, a month after Hannibal arrived, Will decided he’d had enough of the spying routine and his own skittishness. He was taking apart the lawnmower which had stopped working the day previously, as the house’s resident handyman. Jefferson and Gracie hadn’t had to hire someone since he’d shown up, when the appliances broke down. Now Will had to fight them when they tried to pay him for his labour. It was the least he could do to repay them.

Hannibal was lurking around the side of the garage door in the most conspicuous way possible, and Will was surrounded by a sea of parts, some of them as small as a pencil eraser, and he needed a different size of ratchet.

“Hannibal!” Will called, and the kid jumped, then scowled. “Why don’t you get in here and help if you’ve got nothing better to do?”

For a minute, Hannibal didn’t move, just staring like he didn’t understand. Will had his doubts about that, but he was willing to indulge him for the time being. Pointing across the garage to the tool wall. “I need the ratchet with the ⅜ on it.” Will held up his socket wrench and popped off the ratchet head, then showed the numbers on his fingers to illustrate.

Hesitantly, almost petulantly, Hannibal made his way across the room. Will half-expected him to bring back the wrong tool on purpose, but no. No that wasn’t quite right. It was hard to read the kid, but Hannibal wasn’t stupid and he didn’t want anyone else to think he was. There was too much pride in how he carried himself. An almost haughty tilt of his chin when he walked. He grabbed the ⅜ head and dropped it in Will’s outstretched palm.

Will gave him a cheerful smile. “Thanks.” He swapped the ratchet and got the bolt loosened with a grunt of satisfaction. “Wanna see what I’m doing?”

There was more of that hesitance, Hannibal’s gaze sweeping over the floor covered in dirt and dust and other detritus, dried out grass and grease in amongst the screws and bolts and bits of hosing. The whole garage smelled of gasoline from where Will had drained the fuel line. Hannibal sat down daintily at Will’s side, and there was no covering his interest, even mingled with his disdain, leaning in to get a better look at the engine.

“So this little sucker here is what’s causing the problem.” Will finally got the bolt out and held up the little cup of the carburetor. “This little rubber ring here is starting to fall apart, it lets debris get in and clog the line.” He pried the ring loose and held it up triumphantly. It was always satisfying, diagnosing the problem. Hannibal’s nose wrinkled in distaste; Will’s hands were covered in oil and glistening with fuel. “Too messy for ya?” Will asked, wiggling his fingers with a sly smile.

Hannibal snorted, and it was the first sign of humour, of any sort of positive emotion that he’d seen in Hannibal since his arrival, that Will was taken aback for a minute. “I guess living in the woods by yourself you probably got used to the mess,” he said.

There was no response, not that Will was really expecting one. But Hannibal looked away from him, across the materials assembled on the floor and spotted the package of replacement seals. He passed it over to Will with an arched brow and a wry curve of his lips. Will purposefully brushed their hands together in taking it, just for the widened eyes and sound of displeasure when oil smeared over Hannibal’s fingers. Teenagers, man. They were too easy.

“Thanks for your help!” Will called after him, when Hannibal levered himself up, tossing a dirty look over his shoulder on his way to the sink.

Keep reading

The Boys from 105

||Prompt|| College Steve and Bucky!! The reader and her best friend attend the same college and are neighbors with Bucky and Steve. 

||Pairing|| Bucky x Reader and some Steve x bestfriend

||Warning|| Bucky might be a douchebag but I promise he’ll be a gentleman in the next few parts.

||Word count|| 1,252

Not edited…


The Boys from 105

It was a week before Uni started and all freshman students got the opportunity to roam around campus and place some things in their dorms, so you and your best friend, y/f/n, took the opportunity to bring some boxes. The two of you were so glad that both of you got accepted to the same university and even got to share rooms. Like who hasn’t dreamt of that. 

“Oh god Y/N, I don’t think I can handle these boxes anymore.” Y/f/n stopped going up the stairs which made you bump into her since the boxes in your hands blocked your view.

“Y/f/n, you are literally carrying the lightest things we have.” You pointed at the blankets and pillows label on the boxes. You let go of your boxes putting them on one of the stairs, taking a break as well. “Hey shut up, the box brings more weight into it.” She commented, “They at least add 5 more pounds.”  

You faced palmed yourself, “Just hurry up before someone comes by.” You grabbed your boxes and so did y/f/n. “Fine but we are so getting some Mc Donalds after this.” You rolled your eyes not answering her. 

You were at the 3rd level before y/f/n gave up again. “I swear this is torture.” She let the boxes lean on the handrail and let her body lean on top of the boxes, then wiping away the sweat from her forehead using the back of her hand.  “Omg, I swear if you stop one more time.” You squeezed passed her and made your way up the stairs since the dorm was on the fourth floor and you didn’t want to pick the actual heavy boxes again.  

You heard Y/f/n’s heavy breathing as she caught up to you finally making your way through the corridors searching for the right number for the dorm. 

“96, 97, 98, 99,” You turned a left. “100, 101, 102, 103 and finally  104.” You smiled happily to yourself staring at the door waiting for y/f/n to take out her keys.

 “Finally,” you heard her let out a sigh before throwing the boxes to the floor not even gently settling them down. “You are so lucky there isn’t anything fragile in there.” She simply shrugged and opened the door letting you in first. It wasn’t as big as you imagined but it’ll have to do. 

Y/f/n came in just a few seconds later, both of you walking towards the table that was given and settled the boxes there. “Home sweet home, I guess.” You commented feeling a little weird in a new place. “God this place needs a touch-up.” Y/f/n noticed as she touched the table and saw her fingertips covered in dust. “That’s later business, first, we need to bring the other boxes we have left in our cars.” You made your way towards the open door before spinning around almost bumping into your friend. “Or why don’t I get the boxes and you start unpacking?” That got her smiling, “That sounds amazing.” You watched her make her way back to the table while you went back down the stairs. 

You were going as fast as your feet took you down the stairs, trying to finish the task as soon as possible. You passed a few people from your left and few said hello, while the majority either stared at your moving body or others waved with a smile on their faces. That’s until you passed by the grumpiest person ever, or maybe he wasn’t mad until your shoulder bumped into his causing the coffee in his hand to fall on the floor. 

“I’m so so-” The man interrupted you.

“God dang it, lady, I hadn’t even taken a sip out of it.”  You stared at the coffee stain on the newly cleaned carpet until you looked up at him. His beautiful blue eyes already staring back at you, as if he was waiting for you to say something. 

“Uh…hey listen sorry…can you wait here for at least 2 minutes? I can bring my wallet and pay for it.” You waited for him to answer but all you got was a stare. 

“Okay…I’ll be back?”  You awkwardly smiled going back up the stairs, but you didn’t even take two steps before the man’s hand reached for your forearm causing you to turn around.

“No, it’s okay I don’t need money, you poor freshman should save all the money you can.” You glared at him unsurprised at how they treated the new incomers. 

“Fuck you, you little prick. For your information, I am well of.” You took one last glanced at him before flicking him off and made your way down the stairs. 

Bucky shrugged and made his way up to the 4th level and found his dorm really quick since he had been there for over a year now. He walked past a few dorms when he noticed the dorm to the left of his had the door open.

He peeked in to see what new guys would be there. Where they freshman or transfers? But the sad part would be that now Bucky couldn’t use the dorm to sleep when his friend Steve would bring girls.

But to his surprise, he saw a woman placing pink covers on the pillow in her hand. Bucky went inside about to tell the lady she was in the wrong room when he noticed Steve already talking to her as he installed the printer and two laptops. No one had noticed his appearance into the room and took the chance to hear what they were saying, “So where you from, Y/f/n?” 

“Queens. How about you?” Y/f/n asked looking up at him as she settled herself on her new bed.

“Brooklyn.” Steve had finally finished installing everything. “We’re both far away from home, don’t you think?”

“Very mu-”

“Y/f/n, I swear if I have to carry more boxes my arms will break in half.” You walked into the dorm not noticing the guys were in there. “Why the hell would you bring a fucking mini oven?” You placed the boxes on the floor and looked up to see all 3 people, instantly recognizing the man from the stairs. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” You asked glaring at him.

“I can ask the same question.” You gave him a what-the-fuck look.

“Hey, I’m Steve.” The tall light skin man walked up to you.”You must be Y/n, y/f/n has talked a lot about you.” He extended his hand for you to shake and you took the gesture. “Hey.”

“Anyways what my friend here Bucky is trying to say is, why are there two young lovely women on the 4th level. Since its only for guys.”

“Oh really?” Y/f/n asked. 

“Yeah, all last year there were no women on this floor.” Steve walked up to the door waving goodbye saying he needed to put the ice cream in the fridge before it completely melted.

“Well, I’m not moving any boxes up or down the stairs anymore.” You moved away from the entrance giving Steve room to leave. Bucky soon followed him before he approached you, “Next time try using the elevator sweetheart.” With that, he was out the room.

“Ugh, I hate him.” You yelled,  slamming the door shut. Bucky heard you and let out a chuckle. 

“I think I like this Bucky dude. Reminds me a lot about you.” Y/f/n commented as you glared at her.

“You are lucky you haven’t unpacked any knives.” 


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@crownie-sr @ectoplasmichael

Let’s do a follow-up discussion to the “Grave Flowers” theory from a while ago.

The tl;dr version of it is basically: the dust from the countless monsters fallen in the war infused with the bodies of the exposed human soldiers and upon their death (either by natural or otherwise causes) the Determination from their Souls passing out of their bodies reanimated the monster’s consciousness similar to Flowey’s “birth” but in a collective mind like an Amalgamate that would be probably be in conflict with the lingering spirit/consciousness of the humans. Thus creating an army’s worth of undying, unstable, magically charged soulless husks.

“Human zombies? In Undertale?” well given the cards already on the table it seems to be a strong possibility.

  • We know that from the Waterfall runes: “Countless monsters were turned to dust”
  • We know from the Snowdin libraby that: Things covered in dust have the essence of a monster
  • We know from Flowey that: When a non living thing infused with monster dust gets injected with determination the dead monster becomes reanimated in a soulless body
  • We know from Alphys’ experiments: that Determination can be extracted from human Souls.
  • We know from the red flavor text variant on Chara’s coffin that dead humans’ could have an essence/consciousness that is separate from their soul and clings to their body

We also know that Mt. Ebott already had a reputation for people disappearing when they climb it, before any of the fallen children started coming to the Underground in the year 201X, and the monsters have been sealed for around over a millennia according to Bratty/Catty. Yet we see no sign of other humans falling into the Underground aside from the seven fallen children.

But why should it matter? We don’t see any undead humans shambling about on the mountain while Chara was climbing it. And what if the humans in the war could just wash the dust off? We don’t see Frisk turn into a zombie during a kill-all or neutral route when they get covered in dust so what gives?

Regarding Frisk never turning into a dust zombie, we never see what happens to them after the game over screen until we reload/reset. I’m also ruling out Chara as we see them in their monologue as a “zombie,” because the only exposure to monster dust they had was when Asriel died and their Soul had already left their body by then and Frisk falling on their grave hardly counts as an “injection.” Rather I think the opposite happened and Chara’s essence was infused into Frisk’s soul but I digress.

Could the humans have just washed off the dust despite the people of the middle ages poor hygienic practices?
@potted-omega points out that the flower flowey was born from likely absorbed Asriel’s essence from the dust mingled earth and likely the humans would need to intake the dust rather than just be covered in it.

That is the key

An anon a while back pointed out that it’s possible that all the dust could have created respiratory problems, like miners lung, for the humans in close-quarter combat during the war. That got me thinking If dust did get into the lungs of a human, theoretically it could get absorbed into the blood right? While running this idea by @mika4eyed she pointed out that dust in the trachea would likely get filtered by mucus, but even then don't we unconsciously swallow that stuff in our throats almost all the time. So even if the monster dust isn’t getting absorbed through the lungs it’s getting absorbed through the stomach.

So now, we’ve established that a percentage of the human population that was involved in the war had their bodies infused with monster dust. What does that mean?

Well it probably took a while after the war for the humans to realize the situation they were in until those who participated in the war started dying, either naturally or violently. As we see with Flowey, Frisk, and even Undyne that those who are at death’s door will experience a primal surge of determination to live, for those with save files that means reloading to the last save point. But for those without save powers, those dying from old age, (or those dying from self-affliction) death will eventually claim them. That swan-song surge of Determination could have triggered the magical cocktail of monster dust brewing in the human solders bodies.

Yet instead of a singular monster’s consciousness being revived, instead there are dozens if not hundreds of monsters’ identities conglomerating in a single human body, who has a lingering will of their own. Every undying human would have the equivalent of a chamber of echo-flowers in their minds, an amalgam contending for dominance in their heads. Most humans would have been reduced to shambling husks, no doubt. Shambling, empty husks yarning to have a SOUL again.

See where I’m going with this?
In an attempt to rid the world of monsters the humans created true monsters.

Flowers. More than one.
More than one soulless being with the will to live.

Now I don’t think that all the “Grave Flower” humans ended up all as mindless zombies, after all humans are extraordinarily willful and Determined even in the face of death and uneven odds. I suspect there would be different cases of these beings:

  • Humans who could not overcome their mental amalgamate would be like the walking dead driven by instinct.
  • Humans who could conquer their amalgamate by force of will would retain their sanity, but would likely be unstable. These beings would likely be driven by self-preservation and behave like human Floweys most likely.
  • Humans who could make peace with their amalgamate would probably be the most stable of the three possible variants. These would likely be humans who had a history with monsters and more likely to seek reconciliation.

This variance would create humanoid monsters ranging in behavior from zombies, to werewolves, to more intelligent beings borderline vampiric in nature.

Whether or not these beings are as indestructible as amalgamates, I don’t know for sure. However these are physical beings infused with magic, like Flowey, and like Flowey they probably can be killed (it would likely be very hard but doable.)

But all this is speculation, right? It has no direct effect on the story as it is…
Or does it?

Legends say that those who climb the mountain never return.

How did those legends exist in the year 201X when the only signs we see of humans falling into the Underground are all related to incidents after the first fallen child in that exact year?

What if someone or someone(s) were guarding the mountain? Keeping humans from the Underground? Humans who were not children, humans who could have hurt the monsters sealed inside. Humans who could not be let into the Underground and risk undoing a plan hundreds of years in the making, perhaps?

Even so, something was making the humans who climbed the mountain before the fallen children disappear, for a very long time…

And on a final note consider this: 

There is another mountain.

If humans sealed the monsters we knew of in one mountain, why not seal these new monsters in the other one?