towed away

So I have a headcanon that lance use to help his mother out around the house, mostly with the cleaning. And I somehow got this, so I hope you enjoy. This is mostly lance being buddies with the lions.

——————-

It was his mother that got him started.

She would always need help with it, not that she was fragile, she’s anything but. But that doesn’t mean that she didn’t enjoy the help, especially with the cabinets and bookshelves. And Lance didn’t mind at all. He loved helping his mom, and cleaning up the house was just one of the things they could do together. Sure, everyone helped out, but it was always Lance who didn’t it without being asked.

And after a while, it became sort of a coping mechanism. Whenever Lance felt overwhelmed, or if his anxiety got to be too much. You would always find him doing dishes or vacuuming. It was therapeutic in a way. It was something that he can control, that got him out of his head. His mom always told him “a clean house is a happy house.”
It may be overused, but to Lance it always made sense. If the house is clean, then everyone inside the house is happy. Even him.

Lance never realized how much he relied on his family. Always making something to clean up. Always keeping him busy. But now that he’s out in space, on a giant castle ship, with only six other people. Lance can’t help but miss it.

at first Lance worked on his room. Mostly dusting, and rearranging his drawers. But after the tenth time rearranging everything, Lance realized that he couldn’t clean his room more if he tried. So he moved on to other rooms. Within two weeks, every room in the castle had been dusted, vacuumed, mopped, swept and picked up as need be. The castle was spotless. And Lance felt better. He always did after a good cleaning session, albeit a long one. But it was nice. It reminded him of home; of some normalcy in what is now his life.

But soon the anxiety and the homesickness came back. But there wasn’t really anything to clean anymore. It wasn’t like there were hyperactive kids that will knock things over anymore. There wasn’t anyone constantly making a mess. There wasn’t anyone constantly cooking up a storm , sure,Hunk is always cooking, but his moms taught him well on keeping a kitchen clean, so Lance didn’t really have dishes to clean. He’ll, even their laundry is done by the castle, no help needed there. He remembers when he use to get pretty mad at his family whenever they would create a mess. But now…..now he just wishes he had something to clean. To remind him of home.

Lance was climbing out of blue, feeling a bit down for the count after a nasty fight with the Galra, that unfortunately when through some kind of space mucus ozone that surrounded a moon they were fighting nearby that got all over the lions, gunking up a lot of their movements. Thankfully it did the same to the Galra fleets, so it wasn’t that hard to beat them after that. But Lance could practically feel the stuff, and he wasn’t even the one covered in it. After taking a good look at Blue, Lance knew that he had to get all that mucus off of her. If it was messing with her movements now, he didn’t even want to know how bad it would get once it hardened. After hijacking Pidge’s latest project(a set of goggles that can translate written Altean into English, he has to give her props, this is some of her best work.) he found the right soap to use and even some wax that he can use afterwards. Blue was going to be the best looking Lion around. And he got to work. He scrubbed every inch of her till he was sure that all the hunk was off, and even asked her multiple times if he missed a spot. Who told him about every missed spot or hard to reach place. Once he had finished washing off all the mucus, he gave her a much needed waxing. No one could deny that happiness that Blue felt all throughout it and afterwards. And Lance finally had something that he could clean when everything got to be too much. They were both very happy.

It became a regular thing, after that. Whenever he had too much on his mind, Lance would go down and work on Blue. Whether it was the outside or in the cockpit. There have even been a few times where he would work on her maintenance system, but only if it needed fixing and Blue has to walk him through it. And he would talk to her, about everything and anything. About things on Earth or his family. About the others and planets that they have saved. And Blue would listen to it all, very story about when he was little and every worry that plagued his mind. She would send him support, and love and tell him that she was so glad that he was her pilot. They were both happy.

But then things started to get kinda weird. It seems that while Blue was flying just as smooth as ever, some of the other lions were having problems with certain maneuvers and actions. Which definitely slowed down their progress of freeing the galaxy. But the weirdest thing is that the other Lions started to show up in Blue’s hangar whenever Lance went down there to talk with Blue and clean up whatever was left on her from the last battle. At first they would just sit outside of her hangar, not really pushing but definitely making he know that they were there. But it was the Red Lion who got sick of sitting around, she had butted her way into Blue’s hangar and sat next to her. And That was when Lance saw it. Dried Mucus. But that battle was months ago. Lance couldn’t help but get mad. He went to check the other lions, and sure enough, there was still dried mucus and other markings from past battles littering the Lions. No wonder the other lions couldn’t do maneuvers anymore. There was still gunk clogging up their joints and maybe even in their hydrologics. Lance patted Blue on the nose and apologized, saying that he might not be able to clean her today, because there is no way he’s going to let the others stay like that. She sent him warm understanding and told him that the other lions were very grateful that he was doing this for them.

It took him two days of no sleep and barely eating to get all the lions completely cleaned and gave each of them a waxing that had them shining like stars. All the while, no one had gone to check up on him. While that did sting, it was probably for the best. If he had seen any of the others, he would have gone off on them for leaving their lions in such a state.

Soon, the other lions became part of his routine as well. Cleaning the cockpits, washing and waxing the exterior. He was really surprised and honored when Blue told him that Black asked if he could help with his control panel.( it seems that Shiro and Black Had taken a nasty hit during one of their recent battles and Shiro got thrown against the panel.hard.) It was confusing at first, and the damage was more serious than he thought, but thanks to Blue relaying everything Between Lance and Black, he was able to fix him up without much trouble. Without even realizing it, Lance had started talking to the other Lions as well. It started off as complaining about how the others don’t clean them like they should, if ever. But soon enough he was talking to them like he does with Blue. And while he doesn’t hear them respond, Blue does relay any messages back to him.

Lance never realized how close he had gotten to the other Lions until after a pretty nasty battle against some sort of squid Robeast. Blue and Red had taken a lot of hits to keep the Galra off of Green who had taken a nasty blow, making them power down. In the end they were able to beat the robeast, but Lance knew that he was going to have to buff out some dents on Blue and Red. Lance had just gotten done with buffing out a pretty nasty dent in Red’s armor, that Keith came into Red’s hangar. And it seems that Keith was not happy to see Lance there.

“What are you doing?”

“Um…”

“Get off of Red. Now.”

“But I’m not do-”

“She’s not your Lion. Get off her. NOW.”

That was when Red put up her barrier. Keeping Keith out. Lance couldn’t help but snicker. Because now Keith was yelling at Red to let him in. And apparently he was losing the argument, because the barrier didn’t go down at all. It didn’t even waver when Keith decided that hitting it would get his point across. That was when Lance felt Red give off a kind of purr, at least he thought it was Red. It was probably thanks to Blue, telling him that Red wanted him to keep doing what he was doing. So Lance went on to the next one, and next one even with Keith telling him to go away. Even after Keith left the hangar. And even when Keith came back with Shiro and Allura in tow.

“Lance?” Lance looked away from his work and looked at Shiro, who looked just as confused as Allura. All the while Keith is behind them, just as mad as when he came in.

“Yeah?”

“What are you doing?”

“Buffing out dents. I saw that Red and Blue had some pretty nasty one after the battle.”

“Ok……and why are buffing out the dents of the Red Lion?”

“Why don’t you go and do that on Blue then!” Ah, and there is Keith. Lance was wondering when he would butt-in.

“I already did Blue’s.” Ha, suck on that, Keith.

“But why are you doing Red’s, Keith could have-”

“No. he wouldn’t.”

Lance climbs down from his spot on the Red lion and heads over to Shiro and Allura. He stopped just at the edge of the barrier. Now he could really see that Keith did not like being called out.

“You don’t know that!!!”

“Yes. I do.”

Wow, Keith REALLY didn’t like being called out on this. But this was going to happen sooner or later, lance is just surprised that it took them this long to realize it.

“Lance, you can’t just clean another Paladin’s Lion.”

“Why not. I do it for all the lions.”

“Wha….what?”

“I take care of all the lions. I buff out dents, I wash off gunk, I even clean the cockpits.”

They all look at Lance like he just talked in an unknown language. the fact that Lance has been doing this for all the lions seems to come as a surprise to them. Even Keith lost his anger and is looking at Lance like he’s the 8th wonder of the world.

Allura is the first to get back some sense of her voice, quietly asking lance “and they let you? Do all of this?”

“Let me? They almost shoved themselves into Blue’s hangar hoping I would see how much work they needed. Red actually did!” Lance points back to the Red Lion, who still keeps the barrier up, if only to tell Lance that there are still some dents that need to be buffed out.

“How…how long have you been doing this?” Shiro’s stutters out, still trying to get a grip on the situation.

“I don’t know……maybe a few months? At least two months.” Lance said, trying to recall how long he’s been cleaning all the lions.

“You’ve been doing this for that long and never asked us to help? Lance, while the gesture is nice, we can clean our own Lions.”

“Apparently not. You guys didn’t even clean off the mucus gunk from MONTHS ago! How did you guys not realize that the reason the lions were slower to respond than usual was because they could barely even bend their joints! If you guys won’t even clean them when they OBVIOUSLY need it, then how can they trust you guys to buff out a few dents!”
Lance said to much. He realized it as soon as it was out of his mouth. He just called out, not just Keith, but ALL of them. That was not how he wanted the conversation to go. Wow, was the that floor panel always so interesting, because there’s no way Lance is going to look them in the face after that outburst.

“Lance….I’m sorry.”
Well that definitely got lance to look up at Keith, who actually looked sincere. Lance can’t remember any time Keith has been sincere, well yes he can, but never to Lance.

“I haven’t really been the best when it comes to taking care of Red. But you don’t have to do it anymore. I’ll-”
“Woah! Woah, Keith you don’t have to apologize to me about it. Maybe Red, but not me. I love cleaning the Lions. And while it would be nice it you guys helped out once in awhile, I don’t want to stop cleaning them.”

“Wait, so you actually like cleaning them?”

“Yeah! It reminds me…..it reminds me of home. I use to help my mom with all the cleaning, so being able to do this, it…it helps with the homesickness.”

Lance couldn’t help but get a bit flustered saying it out loud, but he needs to let them know that he enjoys doing this for the lions. He enjoys being able to do this for them. He doesn’t want to stop doing this. He can hear Blue purring in the back of his mind, letting him know that the other lions enjoy it just as much as he does.

“Still, You shouldn’t have to do this….. At least not by yourself. They are our lions. But if it means that much to you, I guess we can’t really complain. Especially with all that you’ve done for them.”
Shiro gestures up to Red.
“But, you shouldn’t have to do all of the work, Lance. It’s not fair to you, or the lions.”

Lance nods. He knows that Shiro is right, but he also knows that the lions can be kind of picky about how they get cleaned. For a bunch of robot lions, they are really vocal about what they like and don’t like. And this just means that Lance is going to have to teach the others about each lions quirks when it comes to keeping them clean.

“How about I finish up here and everyone can meet up in the break lounge, then we can talk more about it.”

“Why not go now?”

“I’m pretty sure Red isn’t going to lower the barrier until I’m done.” Lance stares up at Red, as if staring at her long enough will make her put down the shield. It does not. So win a wave to the others, Lance goes back to buffing out Red, with a much brighter smile than he’s had in awhile.

Sure, Lance loves being able to take care of the lions. It reminds him of his mom and his family. It reminds him of home. But the one thing that makes it even better is when others are doing it with you. It helps bring people together, to talk and bond with each other. And if Lance was being honest, he missed that most of all.

Do you guys ever wonder what happened to the Pig that Ronan wrecked?  Like did Gansey get a call from the Henrietta police at some point?  “Hey, your car is wrecked, abandoned, and covered in monster blood and claw marks.  What the fuck, kid.”  Or do you think they just looked at it and thought “I don’t get paid enough for this shit” and towed it away to rust in the depths of the junkyard without another word.

An idea I could get behind is if where Angels go when they die would be like “The Fog of Lost Souls” in Legend of Korra, where people are doomed to wander aimlessly around until they get mad and/or forget their own name?
And in order to save Cas, Dean and Sam have to follow him into this dimension, find him, remind him who he is and lead him out of there

A masterpiece of cuckolding films.

————–

Hubby
- When did you start up with the other man?
Wife
- On our wedding day.
Hubby
- How? Where?
Wife
- At home, during the wedding reception.
There were a lot of people, remember?
At a certain point… the porter came up to tell you that the police were towing away some of the guests’ cars.
You went downstairs with him, and I went into our bedroom.
I looked out the window, you were arguing with the police.
Suddenly he came into the room. He came at me… from behind, he grabbed me by the neck so I couldn’t move or turn around or defend myself.
He did it to me, just like you wanted to do a little while ago.

From The Voyeur  (L’ Uomo che guarda) - directed by Tinto Brass

Oblivious // A Phan One-Shot

Genre: floof 

Words: 2.7k

Relationship status: together (secretly)

Warnings: none

Summary: Dan and Phil’s friends are determined to get the two together. Little do they know Dan and Phil are already one step ahead of them…

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anonymous asked:

Can you do Yullen +30? I can just see Allen awkwardly telling Kanda his feelings this way ☺️

Late, but this was so nice to do!! Thanks for the request hun ♥

Too quick, mumbled into his scarf

Allen breathed what little warm air was left in him out, exhaling hot on his red tinged fingertips. He drew his knees up to his chest, feet flat on the car seat, and felt Kanda’s side-eyed glare.

It was too cold, Allen thought defiantly. Kanda’s heater had broken and it was chilled enough the windows were iced over. Let him say something.

But Kanda didn’t, merely decelerating as they approached a red light. The car idled, and Allen wondered why, when his car stalled at four in the morning it had been this grumpy asshole Allen had thought of and not, say, friendly cheery Lavi, or understanding Lenalee?

Well. He knew. Knew it as sure as he did the bill the wrecker was going to be sending him as they towed his car away.

“Rotten luck,” Allen grumbled, and Kanda scoffed.

“No, not rotten luck,” he corrected sharply, driving forward as the light cast green rays on falling snow flakes. “I told you to get your engine checked.”

“Just because the light is on doesn’t mean you have to,” Allen said, the proud owner of a dime a dozen used cars that always proclaimed to have something wrong with them. “It was just bad timing!”

There was another humph and they fell silent. Allen wound his scarf tighter and drew his knees closer, wrapping his arms around them. He hadn’t been prepared to sit in an ice box for forty five minutes and he was paying for it with violent shaking.

“Oh Jesus, just, here-” still driving, Kanda reached back with one arm and hauled something huge, cloth, and bulky from his backseat. Allen squawked indignantly as it landed on him in heaps, hastily rearranging it so he could breath.

“What is this?” Allen asked, finally peering over the edge and bringing it to just under his chin. It smelled like crisp winter chill, Kanda’s cologne a few days old, and the comfort of Kanda’s home. Warm. He huddled under it, tucking himself in every where he could. Without thinking he ducked his nose back under and closed his eyes, inhaling.

“The blanket Lena made me bring,” Kanda said waspishly, and Allen laughed lightly. This was from the unseasonably warm weather they’d had a few weeks ago - nice enough to picnic in, even. It had smelled nice then, too, lulling Allen into a light nap under the bright sun.

He settled and looked back through the windshield. It wasn’t snowing hard enough to warrant the wipers, but occasionally Kanda flicked them on to brush away what snow clung over intervals of time. The road still stretched long and dark, empty, and Allen hunched over.

He’d been the first person Allen had thought of, and despite the hour, the distance, the cold, his own broken car, Kanda had come.

He laughed at his own stupid tears that sprung up, because he wasn’t used to mattering enough to warrant such kindness.

“Are you crying?” Kanda demanded in disbelief. Well. As much kindness as Kanda could give.

Spades more than Allen deserved, really. “It’s just,” he sniffed, rubbed his nose, “I don’t know. It’s late and it’s cold and your car and it was so sudden but here you are and I didn’t expect you to or anyone really but here I’m sitting and you gave me your blanket and it smells like you and it’s warm, and-”

His breath hitched on a hiccup and he pulled the blanket high enough to cover his eyes. “And I just kind of realized I love you.”

He was a bit disappointed the car didn’t swerve a single iota. It remained horribly still, and Allen wondered if he’d been obvious and Kanda had already known, or if Kanda simply had nerves of steel.

He was so lost in his own self-doubt he didn’t notice the car pulling to the side and stopping until Kanda was harshly yanking the blanket down, forcing Allen to meet his eyes. They were an alarming blue, vivid against his chill-nipped cheeks and nose, against all the gray of the winter storm outside.

“What did you say?” Kanda felt impossibly close, sounded horribly loud. Allen shied away, not ashamed, no, but suddenly terrified of Kanda’s possible response.

“Nothing!” Allen said hurriedly, glancing out the passenger window, darting to all the spaces between the clinging snowflakes. “It’s cold! Don’t stop,” he added, feebly.

“No,” Kanda said, turning fully in his seat. “What did you say?”

Curling in, Allen laced his fingers beneath the blanket, chapped skin pulling at his knuckles. He’d just sighed when Kanda grasped his chin and forcibly turned him. He wondered if Kanda could feel the heat of his blush.

“I love you!” Allen snapped, almost irritably. “God, I do, even though you’re an asshole, and you curse a lot, and you’re impatient, but you’re here for me of all people and I. I’m.”

Don’t cry, he thought to himself fiercely. Don’t you dare cry!

But Kanda didn’t reject him, or shove him away, or even speak crass words.

He leaned in and covered Allen’s trembling mouth with his own, the first spot of warmth Allen had felt in ages.

Relief pooled from him and his entire countenance relaxed, and despite the cold snap Kanda’s lips were impossibly soft. Allen returned the kiss as if afraid, but the fear followed his tension and vanished into the winter air, replaced by warmth, relief, love.

When Kanda finally pulled away Allen couldn’t help smiling at the blush rising in his cheeks, too.

Either the Rowdy 3’s van gets impounded by the CIA for evidence, or it gets left by the side of the road and eventually towed away for scrap metal after the local authorities assume that it’s been abandoned. But then they steal another van during the breakout and it’s not the same, it’s not their baby, but it’s a fresh new start. It’s their home sweet home and the newest member of their little family, and they can’t wait to get back on the road once they’ve finished laying low in the deserted cabin that Farah organized.

They come out one morning, yawning and bleary-eyed, only to find that there’s no longer an intimidating black CIA van parked outside.

There’s Dirk Gently with a pile of empty spray cans at his feet, looking proudly at their new Mystery Machine.

It was honestly getting out of hand. This is not what Tasha had in mind when she had the airport evacuated. It was more to make sure Barnes doesn’t accidentally hurt someone and maybe avoid people snapping pictures and tweeting about Avengers arguing with each other. And what the fuck was Clint doing here? Admittedly, she could have left a more detailed explanation with Vision as to why Wanda was confined to the compound though she thought that Wanda was intelligent enough to draw her own conclusions. Apparently she wasn’t.

“Is this part of the plan?” Nat asked after Tasha helped her up.

“No, this definitely was not part of the plan. Damn Rogers and his ‘punch-the-way-out’ mindset. Want to switch it up?”

“Sure.” It was with practiced ease that Iron Woman had Black Widow in tight but safe grip, flying short way across the landing strip in order to land in the path of Cap’s team.

“Captain Rogers… I know you believe what you’re doing is right. But for the collective good…you must surrender now.” It pained her how incredibly like J.A.R.V.I.S. Vision sounded sometimes. But the good captain apparently was not listening if the advancing was anything to go by. Well fuck.

“They are not stopping.” She could have gone without kid’s comment. In a matter of seconds they were beating each other again. It was insane. And she had run out of patience. “Vision, take out the quinjet. It seems they won’t stop until they reach it.” Tasha instructed, dodging the shield Rogers threw at her.

The android disengaged his fight with the newcomer with the suit that could apparently enlarge as well as shrink; and turned his attention to the open hangar where the powered down quinjet was waiting. Iron Woman’s instruction was sound. Taking out a way to escape reduced the probability of prolonged fighting. Checking yet again if there was someone around the hangar, short beam of yellow energy burst from the gem on his forehead and the quinjet was reduced to a smoking pile of scrap. It was a shame really, for Tasha Stark took great pride in designing and building it. The resulting explosion served as a short moment of pause as the realization of no escape settled on Captain America’s team.

“I will say it one last time!” There was no restraint in anger that boomed from Iron Woman. “Stand the fuck down!”

Spider-man used the distraction to shoot copious amount of webbing at Hawkeye, Falcon and Scarlet Witch, effectively pinning them to the ground. It was after all the reason why she brought him to Germany in the first place. The close contact combat was not it. Black Panther had Barnes pinned as well, Black Widow was eyeing the man in giant form with all the suspicion of the world whilst War Machine was hovering near him as well, ready to act at any sudden move. For the first time since this whole shitty mess started, Captain America looked indecisive and unsure. It was more than likely because his only effective way out was blown up. Looking at his now subdued teammates, he let the shield he retrieved fall from his hand. “You’re making a mistake Tasha.”

“Then it is mine to make. As it was your mistake in deciding to not contact me before this fight went down or even to listen to me back at the task force.” She turned to Black Widow. “Please inform Everett Ross to send a transport for everyone.”

The giant man finally shrunk down to the normal size, hands raised up in surrender. She would find out exactly what his name was later. “Stay put Rogers.” Tasha ordered when he moved to follow her approach to Barnes, reinforcing it with a raised gauntlet waiting to fire off an energy blast. The helmet collapsed when she kneeled in front of Barnes. “Who am I talking to right now?”

“Sergeant James Barnes, serial number 32557038.”

“It’s nice to meet you at last Barnes. I believe I have something to help with your conditioning problem.”

“Steve didn’t mention that.”

Tasha snorted. “Yes, I am beginning to learn how elective he is with words. We’ll discuss it later.”

Black Widow returned with small caravan of SUV’s and prisoner transport trucks in tow, gear was taken away, handcuffs were slapped on and everyone made their way back to Berlin. Tasha was already having a headache just thinking about conversations that were to be had in about two hours. Making sure Spider-man was safely on board her private jet with Happy, Tasha slipped into the backseat of the black SUV; content to find out that there was no one else in it. She just needed a quiet minute or two.

***

“You know you are not obligated to talk to them any further. That is actually my job at this point.”

Why did she stop drinking? Because she could fucking use one right now. “I like you much better than the other Ross. So if you could just let me deal with this shit please? I promise you can hash out all the details on them later because frankly I am just about done.”

The shorter man eyed her, finally shrugging his shoulder and pointed to the heavily guarded conference room where the rogue Avengers as media was already calling them were being kept. He made it crystal clear that they should be in cells already but he was not going to go against the higher ups. And seeing the plain exhaustion of her face, he decided that the woman should have some sort of satisfaction out this entire clusterfuck. “You look ready to keel over.” Nat commented bluntly, matching her steps with Tasha’s.

“Let’s just get this over with, okay? I really don’t want to talk about anything else.” Two women already found Rhodey, Vision and T’Challa sitting at the same table, facing the other team with expressions varying from unconcealed anger to pensive curiosity. “Are the handcuffs really necessary?”

“I’m not here for chit chat, Rogers.”

“Where’s Bucky?”

Rhodey snorted loudly and Tasha rolled her eyes. “You have unbelievably single track mind, it’s amazing. You people collectively broke more international laws than most terrorists do and you keep yapping about your best friend. He’s fine; I negotiated with Ross to have him transferred to one of my facilities under heavy guard just in case the other Ross had any bright ideas. We-” she motioned to her team. “Are here to talk about the supposed Winter Soldiers.”

“Oh, so now you care?” Clint shot out, not even attempting to hide his discontent.

“Mr. Barton.” T’Challa cut in before Tasha could speak again. “The entire defense of your team sits on this supposed threat. Make no mistake; your position is very precarious.”

“Barnes already gave us some intel, we just want to corroborate that he told you the same thing.”

“And then what?”

Vision leaned forward in his seat. “And then captain Rogers, we are going to go and investigate the validity of those claims. I believe they will be taken into account when joint counter terrorism centre brings up the charges. I believe Mr. Ross has far more detailed explanation of how things will proceed from here.”

“And the Russians are just going to let you waltz in their backyard?” Sam sounded guarded and doubtful.

“Considering they have to deal with public backlash of Barnes being used as KGB’s assassin and likelihood that they have been storing several more on ice all this time after everything that happened, yes, they will let us just waltz into their backyard.” Rhodey ground out.

“Look, we will check this either way Rogers. You cooperating might do you some good. Time to start using that head of yours for something other than punching and thinking about your war buddy.”

“You mean compromise?”

Tasha pinched the bridge of her nose. “Not this again Rogers. I am not talking about this with someone who has not even read the Accords. None of you did, I bet.”

“You owe it -” “Enough Captain.” T’Challa was on his feet now. This was not how they discussed making their marriage public knowledge but he could not stand to watch any longer to his wife’s former team mate look at her like she was ultimate disappointment in his life. “My wife does not owe you or anyone here anything beyond the common curtsey of civil conversation.”

One could hear a needle fall in the room that is how silent it was. Steve noticed that aside from Rhodes, everyone was sporting various degrees of surprise on their faces. And Tasha looked uncharacteristically pleased with it. “Is this some sort of joke?”

“I assure you Mr. Barton; I would never joke on the matter of our marriage. You have never inquired if Tasha was seeing anyone, you just made assumptions. Besides, we preferred our privacy.”

“So it was another secret.” At best, he sounded like it was something he believed to be completely in character with her and was therefore disappointed that she did not learn from past experiences.

Tasha’s eyes narrowed. “Rogers…my marriage is of absolutely no importance to the events that have transpired in last few days. So fuck you for trying to use it as some sort of springboard for your moral crusade. I’m done.” T’Challa wasted no time in following after her.

“Tasha slow down.” It was not that he could not catch up with her but it was the way she was gripping her left arm while she was marching away that had him concerned. “I am sorry for blurting it out like that but I could not watch him step on you any longer.”

“It’s fine, really.” Her breathing suggested otherwise.

“What injuries did you sustain in the fight?” His eyes tried to asses her condition but aside from the black eye, she had no visible injuries.

“None. But uh, my left arm is kind of numb. Is that normal?”

No, it was not normal at all and the panic he experienced seconds before the bomb went off returned with full force. “You need to see a doctor straight away.”

“What? No, I’m good.”

“Please, intanda, do not argue with me. Not now.” Her acquiescence after his plea was short lived because not ten steps later; she collapsed and would have kissed the floor face first were it not for his fast reflexes. With relative ease, he scooped her up and called for help. He lost his father; he would not lose her too.


@queenyavengers So you wanted a secretly married IronPanther, yes? Here’s a short thing plus angst.

History Fact 4/100 - HMS Dreadnought

The HMS Dreadnought was a 98 gun second rate ship of the line in Nelson’s Navy.

Dreadnought was present at the Battle of Trafalgar, the eighth ship in the lee division to enter battle. She began firing at two o'clock, and forced the surrender of the San Juan Nepomuceno after her Commodore was killed.

During the battle, Dreadnought lost seven seaman and a further 26 suffered wounds.

She was a quarantine ship until 1857, when she was towed away and broken up.

Latvia's Strange and Awesome Train Safety PSA Adverts

I’ve always had a weird fascination with train safety PSAs, having even created one for fun when I was in high school. Most of them follow fairly simple premises; a careless driver goes around the gates and misjudges how fast the train is coming, some kids are playing on the tracks and can’t escape, people forget to look both ways, or someone waits for a first train to pass but doesn’t see the second train coming. These PSAs rely on sobering realism. attempting to scare the viewer out of their bad habits.

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The first foray back into canon AU for ages and it’s not mega long but long enough to put some under the cut.  Ziam in New York.

xx

**

Days pass by in a blur.  

Liam’s lost count of how many people he’s hugged, how being on a private plane once upon a time was an exciting novelty but at the risk of being a complete pop star about it, it’s like getting on the 63 back home in Wolverhampton these days.

He’s so excited, even with all that’s along with it and that he doesn’t like to dwell on, Paddy sometimes tries to draw him out on it, sees the signs and sometimes he’ll try to draw it out with humour, other times with an arm flung around Liam’s shoulder.

Liam plays along like it works sometimes, and he and Paddy both know the truth but Paddy will ruffle his hair or give him that grin that conflicts with the concern in his eyes but he leaves it be.

Liam steals time, private time, where he can even if it’s five minutes, even if it’s two, even if he can only just say, “Hi, I miss you,” and even if there’s only enough time before the wheels go up for the response to be “Never as much as I miss you, babe”

They send each other selfies when they first wake up, and just before, in Liam’s case at least and he suspects it’s the same for Zayn, half-hearted attempts to sleep.

And he counts down the days.  Each morning, he gets a text from Zayn with just a number on it, has done, every day since they last saw each other.

“I take it he sent you a zero this time,” Liam looks up and takes off his sunglasses and he can feel himself blushing, except he’s not embarrassed, not really and he shrugs at Paddy’s words, can’t stop the grin and Paddy returns it and this time there isn’t concern.

Liam’s vaguely aware of Charlie and Paddy ribbing him, but he doesn’t care, he just looks down at the phone screen and there’s never been a better sight. 

Correction. 

Liam shuts the door behind him, it’s late, and his head’s spinning with praise and plans for his future. 

He doesn’t care, he takes one more step, then another till he rounds a corner and there, right there, that’s what’s better than any zero. 

Zayn’s holding onto the remote control, kind of.  He’s got a pair of jogging bottoms on, and a hoodie, his hair’s still got the traces of green he promised he wouldn’t get rid of till he saw Liam again and the beard is growing again, his eyes are shut so just like all the times before, Liam’s distracted by the way each time he sees him, it’s like he’s grown a hundred more eyelashes, and his lips are slightly parted as he gently snores.

He almost doesn’t want to wake him, except that’s a total lie.

He strides across to the bed, and gently taps at Zayn’s feet and then folds his arms as Zayn murmurs and then shifts and then blinks his eyes open and looks up.

“Told you, you wouldn’t be able to stay awake,” Liam smiles as he says it and sits down on the bed, next to where Zayn shifts and spreads his arms out as he yawns then sleepily smiles and places his hands on Liam’s arm gently tugging him closer.

“No one likes a know it all you knob.” 

Liam grins, responds with his middle finger before he allows himself to relax and he falls into Zayn’s side, it’s not ideal because he can’t fully see Zayn’s face and the reason it’s not ideal? Well, he’s spent too long imagining not taking his eyes off Zayn

He can make out the rise and fall of Zayn’s chest instead though and the way he keeps attempting to stifle his yawns, his eyes crinkling before Zayn makes a tutting sound.

“Didn’t your mum tell you it’s rude to stare?”  As Zayn says it though, his eyes crinkle again, except this time it’s with a smile and Liam wants to see him fully now so he shifts once more, turns on his side, and rests his cheek on his palm and his elbow on the pillow and he does stare now.

Quietly he replies, “I think she’d get it, why I need to that is,”  it hits him then, the weight of how long they’ve been apart, all he’s had to face and his shoulders sag and his gaze drops away from Zayn, till he’s staring at nothing but then fingertips gently scratch at his chin.

“Eh Li, what did we say?” 

Liam could respond with what they’ve talked about, tried to talk about more like, he could talk about the times that conversations ended up with one of them hanging up, they could talk about planning what they’d do beyond all this, if there ever is a beyond all this because sometimes it’s hard to remember that there will be. 

It’s late though, and he’s done with that, this time is too fleeting to be wasted on what’s around them, rather than what they have that can never be shifted so he lifts his eyes till they meet Zayn’s and he chews at his bottom lip and Zayn nods.

“Oh yeah, we talked about that too, take off the chains first and you’ve got a deal.”

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Sassy!Stark Part 7

Pairing: dad!Tony x daughter!reader, Nat, Sam, Steve

Warnings: Angst, anxiety tw

Word count: 1,901

A/N: My encounter with the rude creep who forced me to go park somewhere else and opened the door to my car after I had already gotten in and the subsequent panic attacks inspired this. Don’t read this if you get upset by reading about stuff like this!

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6

Originally posted by fighting-myown-demons


You hated driving in New York. The traffic was fucking insane, people ran across the streets without even bothering to look left and right and the parking situation was the worst of it all. Just finding a parking spot took forever. It had taken you a solid half an hour until you had finally found one - there was no sign declaring that it was a private parking spot, so without giving it another thought, you got out of the car and rushed into the hair salon.

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Theef

“Is he dead?”

Lucy Wieder’s shaky question snaps Scully back to herself, and she walks over to crouch by Peattie. She can feel a pulse, but it’s thready. Her shot may have missed his heart, but he still has a major chest wound, and all she has to work with is a basic first aid kit.

“He’s alive for now, but I don’t know if he’ll survive long enough to get him out of here. We’re at least 50 miles from the nearest hospital.”

“There’s an ambulance coming right behind me,” Mulder says quietly. “I had them send one just in case.”

She gives him a look that tries to convey Thank you and I love you and Way to plan ahead, you brilliant man all at once. The subtle, knowing smile he gives her back says he read her loud and clear.

“Okay then. I need to put pressure on this. Mulder, can you hand me that blanket? And Doctor Wieder? How about you, are you all right?”

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19.

“No,” Bucky whispered, horror struck. He stepped back automatically and Steve’s hands came up to hold his shoulders, the support grounding and settling and allowing him to catch his breath. 

“Buck?”

Bucky whirled around on his heel, staring up at Steve, who looked worried at the stress that was no doubt clear on his face. 

“I am not going in there,” he insisted, keeping his voice steady, trimmed fingernails biting into the palm of his hand. “I am not going in there and you can’t make me.” 

“Okay,” Steve said seriously, taking hold of Bucky’s elbows and backing up, “that’s okay, Bucky, we can -” he was looking over Bucky’s shoulder, bemused, like there was absolutely nothing wrong with the scene taking place in the kitchen. Like it was perfectly normal to walk in for breakfast and see the object of his unrequited feelings in heart-covered boxers with tiny golden wings strapped onto his back. 

“His abs, Steven,” Bucky groaned, almost all the way under his breath, and the stress faded from Steve’s eyes to be replaced by wicked amusement. But his grip didn’t falter, he kept towing Bucky gently away, and no matter what else happened Steve was always gonna be his best guy. 

“Morning, Clint,” Steve said over Bucky, laughter clear in the tone of his voice. “Nice wings.”

“Lost a bet,” Clint said easily. “Happy Valentines Cap, Bucky.” 

Shit,” Bucky hissed. “He saw me?”

Steve choked on a laugh. 

“Pretty sure he just blew a kiss to your ass,” he said.