what if the x men were black

WASTED POTENTIAL: X-Men: First Class and the Death of Armando Muñoz

Or, How Racism F%#@ed the X-Men Movies

It’s no surprise to anyone who knows me that I am absolutely, ridiculously invested in the X-Men Cinematic Universe.  Or, more specifically, I’m invested in what the XMCU could have been, if it had been approached as a cohesive whole rather than a series of vaguely confused attempts at continuity and Wolverine cameos.

For me, the biggest moment of missed potential comes with the death of Armando “Darwin” Muñoz at the midpoint of X-Men: First Class.  People have talked, of course, about how his death was racist and doesn’t make sense – because it was racist, and fundamentally, it doesn’t make sense.

To be fair, I don’t think the writers were being intentionally racist when they killed Armando off in the same scene where the movie’s only other black character defects to the side of the bad guys.  I don’t think they were being intentionally racist when they had a Nazi kill a black man, who, in the comics, is literally and demonstrably unkillable.

But they did these things, and these things were racist.

And to be honest, that racism kinda f%#@ed the franchise.  It’s not the only thing that did – the decision to put ten year timeskips in between each movie of the second trilogy certainly didn’t help matters – but I think that it’s the single bad decision that, if averted, would have changed everything.

Under the cut, I’ll discuss why Armando was such a significant character, and why his death shaped the direction of the franchise by destroying some pretty epic narrative possibilities.

(Trigger Warnings for: mentions of suicide, depression, trauma, real life racism, human experimentation.  Nothing more explicit than XMCU canon, however.)

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Mutants Stick Together

Originally posted by lokiyoulittle

Part 2 Part 3

3rd grade. First day. New school. That’s where you met him. Peter Maximoff.

You walked into the classroom and took the seat right across from him, immediately noticing his leg bouncing at what looked to be light speed. You stared at his leg and he caught you.

“My mom says I have superpowers.” he told you. You looked up and stared at him for a moment. “I’m not like the rest of the kids here.” You smiled.

“I have a superpower, too.” you said to him. You had never met another mutant before. And you figured he hadn’t either. “I can teleport.” His eyes widened and a grin grew on his face.

“No way.” he whispered in amazement. You teleported to the empty seat next to you.

After that, the two of you just…clicked. You two grew up together. You would usually spend all day at his place, considering your parents weren’t too fond of mutants. But Ms. Maximoff didn’t seem to mind.

“Peter!” you yelled into the classroom. Sixth period just ended and you were ready to go home–or to his house, for that matter.

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” he spoke as he jogged out the door. “So, pizza place, video store, home?” he asked.

“Uh huh.” you mumbled. You started sprinting. “Race you to the pizza place! No powers!” you shouted back at him. He shook his head.

“We’ll see about that, (L/N).” he said to himself. Of course he broke the rules and used his super speed, not only to run to the pizza place, but to pick you up and run you there, too. You’re used to the speed by now. You’ve only had 87,934 trips.

“You’re disqualified. I win by default.” You told him as he set you down.

“Of course you did. (favorite pizza)?” he asked. You automatically turned your head at the name of your favorite pizza.

“Hell yeah.” you said a little too loud. Peter laughed and bought the pizza with the money he just took out of your pocket. You noticed, but you didn’t get mad. You just stole more money out of his pocket. He probably noticed, too.

“Movie?” he asked. You looked at the massive collection of movies the video store had.

“I can’t decide. You pick.” He picked out Star Trek and you two were on your way home.

You were one block away from the house when you grabbed the pizza and poofed away.

“Oh no they didn’t.” He sped to the basement to see you laying on his bed eating a slice of pizza. He grabbed it out of your hand and started eating it.

“Hey!” you reacted. He laughed and ran to one corner of the room. You teleported there. He ran. You teleported. You knew him long enough to predict what he was going to do. You caught him and stole you pizza back.

“Put the movie in. There’s enough pizza to go around.” You told him. He plopped down next to you on the couch and you watched the movie. Lorna ran down for a brief few moments.

The movie was finally over and you both went to bed.

The very next day, three men came into the house. Like you guys. Mutants. You watched them as they spoke to both of you. You teleported behind the shorter one and tapped his shoulder while the black-haired one spoke. The shorter guy turned around and you teleported in front of him. He flinched when he saw you. You giggled and teleported next to Peter. Then they told you what they wanted you to do. “The Pentagon” is what convinced you. And you were in.

-Lizzie (Part 2?? tell me if you want one)

Black Out

Word Count: 1049

Fandom: X-Men

Pairing: Hank McCoy x Reader

Request(s): None

Warning(s): None

A/N: Hope you enjoy it!

Originally posted by cute-guysxx

“Hey, Hank?”


“I need your help,” you said, blushing with embarrassment.

“With what?” He asked.

“Well, you’re really smart and all, and I want to pass my biology final, so I figured I should ask you to be my study buddy,” you smiled, shyly. Hank had been your friend since the day you stepped foot in the mansion, but that didn’t make asking for help any less nerve wracking.

“Oh, yeah! Sure. I’ll meet you in your room later, okay?” Hank grinned, pushing up his glasses. You let out a breath of relief, finally feeling at ease.

“Thanks, Hank. You’re the best,” she said, “but I have to warn you, my room is haunted.”

“Wait, what?” Hank asked, but you were already far gone.

A few hours later, Hank and you were sat on your dormitory floor, surrounded by papers and notebooks and study guides.

“Okay, so you have to write an essay about Darwin’s theory, right?” Hank asked, thumbing through the pages of a textbook in front of him.

“That is correct, Professor Brainiac,” you laughed at his annoyed face. Hank had graduated college at 17 and was working at the Academy as the scientist and engineer of the X-Men.  He was a true genius in your eyes. A cute, sweet, dorky, lovable one who stole your heart from ‘hello’.

“(Y/N)?” He asked, waving his hand in your face.

“W-what?” You asked, snapping out of your trance.

“You zoned,” he chuckled. “What were you thinking about?”

“Oh, nothing,” you blushed, gazing down at all the scattered notes.

“Okay, well, we should start by seeing if you know the content. I’ll quiz you,” he said. Right as the words left his mouth, the room was blanketed in pitch black canvas.

“Hank?” You called out, body tense.

“I’m right here,” he said, placing a hand on your shoulder. You jumped. “It’s just a power outage. Are you alright?”

“Uh … yeah,” you mumbled, eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness. You jumped again when you heard a loud noise down the hall.

“Are you afraid of the dark?” He asked, incredulously.

“W-what? No! No, of course not! That’s ch-childish!” You exclaimed.

“Oh my god! You are!” Hank Laughed in disbelief.

“S-so what? Do you have any idea what lurks in the dark? Demons, ghosts! Murderers and thieves!” You countered.

“Ghosts?” Hank asked.

“Yes, ghosts! My room is haunted, remember?” You said, looking over at him, finally able to see his figure in the blackness. He was smiling. “Stop laughing at me!”

“I’m not! It’s just cute!” Hank defended himself. You faltered for a second. Had he just called her cute?

A loud crash rang through the room, causing you to scream. Hank wrapped his arms around you in an attempt to calm you down.

“What was that?” You asked, panicking. He shrugged, looking around the dark room.

“I think your lamp fell over,” Hank said. He stood up, letting you go to investigate. He picked up the lamp and set it back on the bedside table. “Oh, look. Your torch is here. How convenient?”

“I told you my room was haunted,” you cried out.

“What are you talking about? The lamp was probably just unbalanced and it tipped over. Nothing to worry about,” Hank said, turning on the torchlight and pulling open the curtains on the window.

“How coincidental that it had to fall right when the power went out, right?” You asked, sarcastically.

“Exactly,” Hank said, not joking. You sighed and watched as he looked out the window. “It looks like this whole part of town is at a loss of electricity. Must be the storm that’s coming.”

You groaned, walking up to him. He smiled down at you and wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

“So, what do we do until the power comes back on?” You asked.

“We could start studying?” He offered. You groaned again and he laughed. “I’m kidding. We could just hang out for awhile.”

“Okay.” You said, heading over to sit on your bed. Hank sat down across from you.

“What do you wanna do?” Hank asked.

“Truth or dare,” you challenged.

“Alright. You start,” he grinned nervously. You rubbed your hands together, thinking of evil dares and cringeworthy truths.

“Truth or dare?” you asked.

“Truth,” Hank said.

“What is your most embarrassing moment?” You smirked.

“When I was seen, I was in a higher level class and I was asked to come up and solve a question on the board. It was my first day there, and I got so nervous that I threw up in the bin in the middle of my explanation,” he blushed. You giggled.

“Oh god, that’s terrible,” you laughed.

“Yeah, I know. Okay, truth or dare?”

“Dare,” you smiled.

“I dare you to tell me the cheesiest joke you know,” he challenged.

“Alright. What do you call cheese that isn’t yours?” You asked, taking the ‘cheesiest’ part literally.

“What?” He sighed.

“Nacho cheese!” you exclaimed. He laughed, shaking his head.

“That’s horrible,” he chuckled. You nodded, beginning to laugh yourself.

“Exactly,” you giggled, only to jump and hold in a scream as a pounding was heard on a door down the hall. Hank pulled you into a hug again, calming you down.

“It’s just some students coming back to their rooms,” he explained.

“O-okay,” you stuttered out. You shook, trying to rid yourself of the fear. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” he said, feeling brave. You smiled.

“I dare you to go out there and kiss your crush,” you smiled. He laughed a little, blushing. He leant forward a bit and placed a kiss on your cheek. You froze.

“W-wait. You like me?” You asked, confused. He nodded, face as red as a cherry.

“Yeah. Sorry,” he said softly, rubbing the back of his neck. You smiled brightly, turning around in his embrace and kissing him full on the lips.

“Huh?” Hank asked after you pulled away.

“I like you too, nerd,” you said, grinning like an idiot.

Star Cross’d - Prologue

FUCKING @saxxxology ! I should’ve never given her my number, because this shit always happens!

So, this was, originally, going to be the prologue that then split off into a Sam version and a Dean version. Saxxy and I basically wrote the outlines in a frantic series of texts back and forth, where she wrote the Sam, I wrote the Dean. Then she went to England and was like, “I NEED TO WRITE THIS.” So now there’s a Dean version and that’s it. You can read her AMAZING series when it comes out on Sept. 5th!

Also, you’ll notice this was partly for A/B/O Appreciation Day. Which was yesterday. This is late because I couldn’t pick a title. I’m dead serious. Titles are the bane of my existence.

Both boys are around their season five ages, just for reference. And the reader is eighteen. Yay age gaps!

Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader
Words: 1790ish
Summary: Mr. Merchant seeks out escorts for his daughter
Warnings: None
Other Parts: Masterlist

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Scandal Ruminations 7X03

Some unvarnished thoughts about the last episode and the little things that I thought were poignant.

Projection is the root of all misunderstanding, and this is the case between Fitz & Marcus. Marcus arrives refreshed and ready to get to work, however Fitz is not in that mindset yet. Marcus interprets this as Fitz being lazy, I interpret it as Fitz taking a breather after being confined to a political pressure cooker for the past 8 years and beyond. This is the first time Fitz is entirely on his own, and we observe his willingness to be self-sufficient via the driving, shopping, cooking etc.

What we also see is Fitz coming face to face with his ghosts, especially the ghost of his father and the ghost of Olivia. The gun is prominent throughout every single act in the episode as its significance intensifies. In the beginning, it is literally stored, as you’d store a relic or something you’ve forgotten that doesn’t bear any importance on your life in the present. The gun is a symbolic callback to Big Jerry, who gave him the gun when he became governor. A congratulatory item in exchange of a professional achievement. Marcus asks Fitz where the revolver came from and who gave it to him but Fitz casually ignores it which indicates he is not interested in discussing his father. The level of danger escalates each time the revolver makes a new appearance, culminating with Fitz sitting on the rocking chair looking rather suicidal.

The ghost of Olivia is obviously represented via the home he lives in; however, it is empty. As he said “She is not here”, not only is Olivia physically absent, she is also a former shell of herself as other characters have noted in past episodes. I thought this was a great double entendre. Also, this ties into the Lost Girls concept the show has been playing with. Olivia is missing from herself. The upcoming episode is titled “Lost Girls” so I guess we will revisit this concept of absence down the line.

Back to the matter at hand!

It is understandable for Fitz to find himself in this stupor because he is confronting the reality of his life, he has finally out-achieved his father even though he is not present to witness it, proving himself, and confronting the fact that the life he dreamt of with Olivia is not his reality. Fitz is faced with the sacrifices he made, reconciling the fact that he was president but finding himself without the domesticity and love of Olivia which he so desperately has shown he wants more than anything.

Marcus does not know Fitz, so his expectations of him are not based on reality. From the moment Marcus begins discussing Olivia with Fitz he is met with a wall of resistance. Also, the way Marcus introduces the idea of what kind of place Olivia will hold in his presidential library, using Monica Lewinsky as an example, tells us as the audience that Marcus does not have a single idea of what type of relationship Fitz & Olivia had. Marcus eventually explodes and reduces Olivia to a “home wrecking black ho.” Talk about making assumptions here Marcus. Jeez.

Fitz carefully chooses to highlight her professional achievements as opposed to their relationship, evidence that he is rejecting thinking about their past. We see Fitz reject the notion of relationship repeatedly throughout the episode.

Not including their relationship coincides with Olivia’s desire to not have the type of relationship that is for public scrutiny (& consumption), yet the opposite of what Fitz has always wanted: to demonstrate his love for Olivia in public. I felt that in a way he was honoring her wishes. I don’t think Olivia would like for her relationship with Fitz to be showcased instead of her accomplishments.


Other things I thought were significant:

-Rowan using the Malcolm X speech when talking to Fitz. “You’ve been hoodwinked! Bamboozled… etc” This corresponds to the racial undercurrent of the episode, and goes hand in hand with Steve’s activism. Here you have two different black men, both who could use Fitz’s help in their cause and who have different ways of going about it, much like MLK and Malcom X during the Civil Rights Movement.  Clearly, Steve’s need is indirect and comes to Fitz via Marcus. All of this serves to point out that you need the patriarchy to understand these problems, to take charge & to effect change because it is white men who hold all the power for the time being. This has already been mentioned by someone else so I will not go on and on about it.

-The Olitz signs in the beginning serve three purposes. 1) Tongue in cheek humor that people root for Olitz, a nod to the audience. 2) The normalization of Olitz in canon, the open acceptance canceling out any public perception problems they may have faced in the past. 3) A bitter reminder for Fitz that they are not together.

-They were smoking Romeo & Julieta cigars. There are plenty of other Cuban cigars that are much more recognizable, like Cohiba for example. This was a nod to the star-crossed lovers that are Olivia & Fitz. (Fitz smoking that cigar and drinking scotch will forever haunt all my VERY pervy dreams. **fans self**)

-If there is anything I hate it’s when characterization is manipulated to serve the plot more than the character.  We have spent the past two seasons watching Fitz grow. In fact, he has grown so much that we had verbal confirmation of him acknowledging his privilege so I found it disingenuous to have him act so clueless and racially insensitive this episode. I completely understand the tone of the episode, and I accept that Fitz is the stand-in for the patriarchy, but I felt they were doing him a disservice. They made him lazy and entitled so that Marcus could bash him and metaphorically critique the white patriarchy. I am all for toppling the patriarchy but I feel like Fitz is the eternal punching bag on here, and while Mellie obviously enjoys tons of privilege that other characters lack her behavior goes unchecked. I don’t like the hypocrisy of how only Fitz is open for criticism when he is the only character left with any inkling of self-reflection, and who always shows that he understands and listens when people are speaking to him. Maybe it’s because Fitz is the only person on here left that has any humanity and I’m sensitive towards that. I do not disagree with the inequalities Marcus highlighted, they are all VERY real problems that we need to tackle as a society, I just felt that Fitz was both the perfect (patriarchy) and imperfect (sensitive & understanding, always ends up arriving at the right thing) conduit for the episode.

-Mellie…. Oh, Mellie, girl, you are so annoying even when you are trying to make sense. She says Fitz is a “good man” but paints him as some helpless fool whose only offering in this life is as a golden ticket for other people.  She basically reduces Fitz to the circumstances of his birth: he is both rich & white, something he obviously cannot and did not choose. (Juxtaposes the same concept that one cannot choose to be born black & brown and must contend with the lack of privileges that come from this which is what Marcus/Steve/Rowan was (were) here for in this episode.) I’m so glad that once Mellie got done using Fitz she still finds the time to instruct others on how to use him as well. * HEAVY SARCASM *


-BTW, Rowan is totally bamboozling Fitz. He is appealing to his love for Olivia so that he can manipulate him into weakening her defenses back in DC. If Olivia is weakened, then Rowan has a higher chance of stealing B613 from her. It’s totally in Scandal fashion to present us with a narrative and then perform the reversal, in this case it appears as if Rowan is experiencing some sort of remorse but it will probably all be some big joke and long-term gaslight for Olivia. Oh, and Olivia, you got a fox in your henhouse. There is only one way Rowan can know about Luna’s death: Jake. It just so happens that Olivia cuts Jake out of her life romantically and that same span of time is when Rowan finds out about Luna’s death. Something significant enough that he can use as leverage to appeal to Fitz. Something doesn’t smell right.


Some Hilarious Prompts #3

(Send me requests with 1/1+ prompt/s.
Fandoms I write about (they are a lot) | My Masterlist |
 Prompt list 1 | Prompt list 2 )

( a) that applies for the prompt lists, I do write works, requestsed without any of the prompts; b) I write:oneshots / scenarios / imagines / headcanons / chats / conversations / aesthetics / love letters / moodboards / custom / alomst anything ) Prompts can be customised!

161. I didn’t do it, but if I did, I was drunk.

162. We all have a favourite eyebrow!

163. Can I politely murder you?

164. I’ve met some pricks in my time, but you are the fucking cactus.

165. Don’t joke about murder, I was murdered once and it offends me.

166. I want world pace, but there’re people I want to kill first.

167. A (boy):I love you

        B (girl): That’s your business

168. If we hate the same person we are already friends.

169. I don’t want to get involved in the drama, I just want to know 103% of the information on what happened.

170. A: I’m really into people with good hearts and kind intentions

        B: You’re one little flower, aren’t you. Preapre to die.

171. Take a chill pill, your honor.

172. Has anyone’s crush ever worked out for them or is that a myth?

173. My life is way too much panic and not enough disco.

174. An apple a day keeps anyone away if you throw it hard enough.

175. Thank you for noticing the bags under my eyes, yes they are Gucci, no you may not touch them, I’ve insured them for 10,000$ each and will not have you ruining them with things like “concealer” and  “sleep”.

176. Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to mourn the passing of the last fuck I gave.

177. Wow! Okay! I know I said “Fuck me”, but that wasn’t an invitation, it was me being exasperated at the state of my life and existence.

178. Excuse me who invited you to this conversation? I’m sure as shit it wasn’t me!

179. You know, it’d be super cool  of you to not be a total wad when I’m doing something nice for you.

180. Do I like him, or is he just tall?

181. I would follow you to the ends of the world with only mild complaining.

182. Do you ever look at boy’s hands and just nod to yourself in satisfaction? Like boy, yas.

183. Why is James spelled with “s”? Why is it  plural? More than one Jame. How many James?

184. A: Drunk me is the me I want to be - confident, hilarious and most importantly - drunk.

         B: That’s because you don’t have to clean the puke. 

185. Are you gonna kiss me, or do I have to lie to my dairy?

186. I man be trash , but I’m high quality trash. Premium trash, Grade A trash. The kind of trash your mom would look at and say “should this be recycling?”. Yea, I’m that kind of trash.

187. I’m alive, but only ironically.

188.  A (opens the door): What are you doing on the floor?

          B : Sometimes you just need to lay on the floor.

189. A: Hey, who wants to start a gang?

        B: I’ll ask my mom.

190. He’s like a Lana del Rey song that took human form.

191. A: Are you the big spoon or the little spoon?

        B: I’m a knife.

192. I’m strong enough to carry your corpse to the woods. So watch out.

193. Merry Fucking Christmas, where is the hard liquor?

194. There are approximately 1,013,913 words in the English language, but I could never string any of them together to explain how much I want to hit you with a chair.

195. Excuse me, who let you adult?

196. I’m like four days past my bedtime.

197. A: What doesn’t kiss you makes you stronger.

        B: What if I cut off your left leg? Would that make you stronger? Would. It.

198. Do you ever look at someone and you’re like “how”?

199. I have three moods: Fuck you, Fuck off and Fuck me.

200. I either dress like I’m going to a red carpet event or like a homeless drug addict, there’s no in between.

201. My heart says “yes”, but my mom says “no”.

202. A: You need anger management classes.

        B: And you need Shut the fuck up classes.

203. A: What are you? Twelve?

        B: Yeah, on the scale of one to ten!

204. A: Life’s tough guys.

        B to C: S/He’s drinking chocolate milk shots?!

205. You ever listen to your dad talk abd be like “Why are you like this?”

206. I swear to God dude, if you don’t stop I’ll fucking hold your hand and tell you I love you.

207. Let’s see what moves they taught your wrinkled ass in the war of Who knows when, bitch. Talk shit, get hit.

208. A: Finally worked up the courage to tellthe Starbucks girl she was beautiful, and I only puked twice.

        B: Did you puke on her?

        A: That’s not imporatnt. What’s important is that she knows how I feel now.

209. Hello there my significant annoyance!

210. You’re about as irrelevant as Mean Girls 2.

211. My seduction style is genuinely caring about your life and wanting you to improve and be happy.

212. A: Being attractive is so inconvenient, like how am I supposed to do anything if I’m constantly surrounded by fangirls?

        B: Open your mouth, your personality will drive them away.

213. A: Fuck that honesty.

        B: Fuck me honestly.

214. Who gave your voice a permission to sound that attractive?

215. (A & B are not together; but are crushing)

    C: So How did you get in an accident exactly?
    A: Well we were driving and I saw there was a deer on the road, so I yelled “B, deer!”
     C: And??
     B: ….
     A: Come on tell C your answer
     B *sighs* : “Yes, dear?”

216. Do you know how hard I worked for us to have accidental eye contact?

217. Cute as heck, but will break your neck.

218. Maybe I should send you a bill for all my time you’ve wasted.

219. Be careful with my emotional baggage. It’s designer.

220. A *lying*: Honestly,

221. Okay, I admit it, I am an asshole. But I have a nice booty and soft hair, so I feel like I deserve the best, like? Yes?

222. They say the best things in life are free, but that’s only true if you steel them.

223. Your inability to learn complicated handshakes is tearing this gang apart.

224. Each time I tell you those three words I mean them more and more - Leave. Me. Alone.

225. Stop being rude and start being nude.

226. Don’t ask me for advice, I’ll accidentally ruin your life.

227. Tips on talking to me when I’m pissed off. Number one - Don’t.

228. I touch myself whenever I think about you. More specifically, I rub my temples because I get a headache, because you’re awful.

229. We can only be friends if you are kind of an asshole. Not full blown asshole, because that’s no fun. And if you’re not an asshole at all that won’t work out wither. A half way asshole. Those are my kind of people.

230. I love being dramatic and half naked.

231. Hey, I heard you like bad boys and I don’t mean to brag or anything, but I’m really really bad. At everything.

232. I’m not smiling at you, I’m smiling at your dog. Don’t look at me.

233. I wanna be hot enough to make people question their sexual orientation.

234. A: Wait you like me? For my personality?

        B: I know, I was surprised too.

235. Why do you look like you choked on your toothpaste?

236. This is an awful sex position. Why did I let you talk me into this? Where are my arms?!

237. Look at me, I’m the perfect gentleman, so why don’t you stop bitching around and accept these that flowers I stole for you?

238. There’s not enough therapy and liquor in the world to undo that.

239. I love sunglasses, am I looking at that tree? Am I staring at your dick? Who knows?

240. A: Shouldn’t you be sleeping?
        B: In your bed, with you? Yes.

241. I get anxious for people who fall asleep on public transit. Like where is your home? How many stops have you missed? This was not a time for a nap.

242. My friendship comes at three levels: sass, insults and inappropriate sexual humor. So pick one.

243. A to A: Not now boner.

244. A:  You are really quiet.
        B: No one plans murder out loud.

245. No, you see, if I ever call you “little shit”, it means I love you.

246. We have hung out five times and only had sex three of those. I call that friendship.

247. A: Guy unbuckling his belt is the hottest thing in the world.
        B: Unless it’s his seatbelt. In this case it’s a big no no.

248.  I don’t understand why people need to do drugs or party in order to have fun, like have you tried mac n cheese?

249. I wonder if anyone notices I only wear three pairs of pants.

250. A: Why do we fight over stupid shit?
        B: Because you say stupid shit.

251. A: You know, you were right.
        B: About what, specifically? Because I’m right about a lot of things.

Disclaimer: 99% of these texts are from Tumblr text posts. All of the credit for them goes to their original source/writer. (some of them I did customise/rewrite)

All The Little Things - Part 1

This is my first fanfiction, so please read through it and give me constructive feedback! Main ships: Feysand, Nessian, Elriel.

I’ll try to update every Saturday, but no promises. Tell me if your reading this, and I’ll tag you on my next chapter.

Feyre works at a coffee shop, not for the money, but because she enjoys it. Why would she need money anyway, when her boyfriend, Tamlin, works for one of the most global, most successful companies, Hybern? But Tamlin has a bad temper and an abusive nature. She longs to get away from him and get a Fine Arts degree at Prythian University. It seems impossible to escape him – that is, until a certain handsome stranger walks into her life.


Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7


“Hey, what would you like today?” I asked the man behind the counter. He paused, and his dark, violet eyes scanned the chalkboard menu.

“A white chocolate moccha, chai tea, vanilla frappuccino, caramel macchiato and a latte, please.” I was momentarily shocked before I realised he was ordering for his friends at the table, too. There were two more men with black hair like his and two women (one short, with black hair and another tall, with golden blonde hair). The man’s eyes twinkled with amusement at my temporary shock, the lights like tiny stars.

You don’t have time for this!

“I’ll bring them to your table, shall I?”

“Yes, please.” His voice was educated and refined. I found myself suddenly conscious of my rural, lower class accent.

“Thank you.” I turned to prepare the drinks. For some reason, his appearance triggered hidden memories of my childhood – good ones. I remembered when my family had camped outside in the woods, and we had tried to spot constellations. After a while, we gave up and just stared at the beautiful night sky.

Out of the window, I spotted Tamlin’s Maserati roll to a stop in a parking space. As I poured the drinks into cups, I quickly texted him.

Last orders.

I arranged the drinks on a tray and hurried to the table. Normally, I would read out each order and personally hand them over, but I was in a rush. In my haste, I banged the tray on the table.

Wincing, I apologised, but the people smiled reasurringly at me. Huh. Some of the customers would yell at me for half an hour then demand to see the manager. “I’m in a bit of a rush today.”

Alis walked through the door and I gave a sigh of relief.

“Alis! Help me out, will you?”

“Course.” As I passed her, I slipped my apron over her curly, brown hair and handed her the reciept.

“Table 16.”

“Good luck for the interview, Feyre.”

“Thanks,” I called back as I climbed into my boyfriend’s car.


I gave Tamlin a quick kiss and settled back into the my fabric seat.

“How was work?” he asked as he hit the accelerator. His green eyes slid to me quickly, then back to the road. I could just see them beneath the curtain of golden hair.

“The usual,” I sighed. “What about Hybern? How’s the deal goin?”

Hybern was the company Tamlin worked for. They were always in competition with another company, Velaris. Although Velaris was insignificant in size when compared to Hybern, the CEO of our company had a personal argument with the CEO of Velaris.

A couple of weeks ago, Hybern had come into lots of new money. They had enough to buy Velaris, but the CEO was giving them trouble.

“Don’t worry about that.”


“I said, don’t worry about that.” His voice held a definite air that told me this conversation was over.

But I knew the deal was giving him a lot of stress. He locked himself in the study for hours, stayed up all night and drank more. He was shutting me and Lucien out.

I clenched my teeth. If only he would listen, I knew I could help.

My anger disappeared and was replaced by a fluttering of nerves as I beheld the building before me: Prythian University. It was one of the most prestigious universities in the country.

Deep breaths.

I wanted to get a degree in Fine Art. I had sent the university my personal statement and links to my online portfolio. They had sent a letter a few days later, asking me to come for the interview.

Today was the interview.

I picked up my artwork folder and Tamlin smiled at me. Any trace of his temper was gone. His mood swings were becoming more frequent and sudden. It almost scared me.

I kissing him and got out of the car.

“I love you.”

His reply was immediate. “I love you too. Good luck.”

With a final exhale, I stepped through the doors of the university.

Our Greatest Mission Yet: Part 1

PAIRING- Steve x reader


WARNINGS- ANGST (very Angsty sorry about that, but they will get lighter I promise, this is my first attempts at writing angst and if its terrible let me know!) some swearing as well ! 


Originally posted by fanfic-natic

Keep reading

Not Much of a Looker (Part 2)

Originally posted by rswinther

Kurt Wagner x Reader

Not Much of a Looker (Part 2)

Part 1: http://imagine-marvel-12.tumblr.com/post/145272330699/not-much-of-a-looker

Prompt: Several of you. Like literally all of you. Hope you like it! :)

After two months of living at the Mansion, you fell into a routine. Every morning, Jean or Ororo would walk you down the stairs for breakfast, and then Kurt would pop in, usually a few minutes later. After that, the two of you would be inseparable. Not quite dating (yet) but certainly more than friends.

After every class, he would teleport to you so he could walk you to the next one. You ended up eating lunch and dinner with him and the others pretty much every day.

And you noticed something while living at Xavier’s. For once in your life, you weren’t an outcast. Even though you couldn’t see, the others did their best to help you in every way and make you feel comfortable and welcome.

You were walking to lunch, latching to Kurt’s arm, as you usually did, when Hank stopped you. He was your science teacher, and it had come up in discussion the day before that your mutation was the reason you were blind.

“Hey (Y/N), can I talk to you for a second?” he asked.

“Sure,” You replied, stopping. “What’s up?”

“Well um,” Hank started. “The discussion we had in class yesterday about your mutation blinding you really gave me an idea. I use a serum to suppress my powers temporarily. I’m not saying it’s a guaranteed fix, but I could make a solution that works for a few hours maybe.”

“You’re saying you could give me my sight, even for a few hours?”

“Theoretically, yes.” Hank nodded. “It’s not guaranteed, but I think it could work.”

“Thank you so, so much!” You said excitedly. Kurt smiled a little, but his smile faded when he realized what this meant. No longer would you have a vague image of what he looked like. You would see him in all of his blue, three-fingered, red-eyed glory.

He walked with you down to lunch and both of you sat with the others. Your smile gave away your good news, so you shared it with the others.

“So you might be able to see?” Jean asked, smiling. You nodded excitedly. “That’s great, (Y/N)!”

“I can’t wait to put the faces to the voices,” You said. Kurt still looked distant, but didn’t say anything. Jean took a peek in his mind and looked at him with sympathy. She knew how each of you felt about eachother, but didn’t want to intervene.

“So when might this happen?” asked Peter. “When do you get to see how attractive I am?”

“I don’t know. I’m not sure. But I can’t wait!”

“I bet,” Scott smiled.


It was a few days later that Hank came to you with a little briefcase. He took you to his office, a few of your friends standing there to meet you, officially, for the first time. Kurt, Scott, Jean, Ororo, Peter, and Jubilee all stood there waiting in anticipation as Hank slid the needle into your arm and squeezed the medication into your veins.

You closed your eyes. They stung a little, but nothing too serious. You blinked, tears forming in the newly functioning eyes. As soon as the medicine took effect, you heard a *bamf*. You rubbed your eyes. Everything was fuzzy, but things began to come into focus.

You looked around at the mutants standing in front of you and started guessing their names.

“You’ve gotta be Peter,” You pointed to him first. The silver hair was a dead giveaway. “And you’re Jean, right?”

“Yep,” she smiled.

“Ororo, Jubilee, Scott…” you listed, pointing to each one. You looked around. “Where’s…Where’s Kurt?”

“He teleported out a few seconds ago,” Scott said.


“I think I know why,” Ororo shook her head.

“So do I,” Jean nodded.


“Right there,” Jean pointed from the steps of the mansion. Kurt was sitting at the fountain, staring at his reflection. His tail swayed back and forth, and the wind ruffled his black and blue hair.

“Which one?” You asked. As it was a Saturday and the courtyard was flooded with students.

“The blue one,” She smiled. Your eyes found him.

“Awwwww, he’s so cute!” You gushed. “I don’t know what he’s so worried about.”

“Go get him, tiger,” Peter patted your shoulder. You made your way across the courtyard, walking down the path. The other kids stopped to look. They all knew who you were, and here you were without anyone to guide you.

“Hey there,” You said quietly. Kurt turned, jumping in surprise.

“I see you found me.”

“I did,” you motioned to the others on the stairs. “With some help.”

“So…I’m ‘not much of a looker’ as Peter says, ja?”

“Kurt, you are the cutest. Literally. You are so, so cute. I don’t know what you’re so worried about. I mean, after all, blue is my favorite color. And it looks so, so good on you.” You told him. He smiled, heat rising to his cheeks. He felt like he might melt.

“You mean it?”

“Of course I do,” You smiled, happy tears running down your cheeks. “I have been waiting forever to see you,”

“Oh, don’t cry, liebe,” he pulled you into his arms, holding you tight.

“They’re happy tears,” you laughed, sniffling.

“Ich liebe dich,” Kurt whispered so softly you barely heard it.

“I love you too, blue,” you smiled, hands rubbing his back. He gasped softly.

“You know German?”

“Only a little, and I only learned so I could tell you that I love you in your own language.” You confessed.

“So are ve…?”

“Dating? If you want to,” You told him. “But I’m still going to need you to be my seeing eye man.”

“Vhy is zhat?” he asked softly. You pulled out of the hug to look at him, lifting your hand to touch his cheek. He smiled, and you took in all of the details of his face, every intricate design. You tried to memorize every facet of him.

“It’s already going away,” You sighed sadly, vision beginning to blur. He stared at you, wide-eyed.

“Zhen let me do zhis vhile you can still see me,” Kurt said.

“Do what?” you asked, but you were cut off my a pair of soft blue lips. He kissed you softly, passionately, like he would never get another chance. His three-fingered hands held your cheeks, thumbs softly stroking your skin as the colorful world around you faded to black once again.


“And if we station men here,” Jon continued, eyeing his companions, “then-”

“We’ll have them surrounded,” you finished with a smile. “Brilliant.”

“What d’you think, Tormund?” Jon asked the Wildling leader with a slight smirk. The fiery haired man hadn’t taken his eyes off you once during the meeting. “D’you think it’ll work?”

Tormund said nothing, his eyes glued to the neckline of your gown. The black fur that surrounded you had him enraptured. He had always known you were beautiful, and had vocalized it on many occasions, but that gown…

“Tormund,” Jon said again, this time a bit louder, and motioned to the map. “What do you think of the plan?”

Tormund, not adverting his eyes in the slightest, nodded. “Yes, that looks good.”

Baby Tim - Part 3

Baby Tim isn’t really in this one, he is mentioned, but not seen.


Your date with Jason is set for three days later, on Saturday. Jason had told you that we was dropping of Tim at Wayne Manor, strictly under Alfred’s care, in order to let Bruce do more scans and to let Zatanna and Doctor Fate take a look at the magic that surrounds Tim.

“Yes, Jason, I understand that you need to do a quick patrol before we go out. It’s fine! I promise, yes I will meet you at the restaurant. Okay, bye”

You chuckle as you hang up the phone, “He’s so damn paranoid “you say to yourself

You continue to get ready for your date, putting on simple makeup, nice jeans and a blue flowy top. You walk out into your living room to put on your shoes when you hear your phone ring.

“Jason I told you …”

“Not, Jason, pretty girl”

You freeze, “Who is this?” you whisper, dreading the answer

“People call me the Black Mask, sweetheart”

“What – why are you calling me?”

Black Mask chuckles, “Well you see, a few days ago one of my associates saw a man they call the Red Hood enter your establishment. According to the video they took, he seemed quite smitten with you.”

You whimper, “That still doesn’t explain why you are calling me”

You hear a sigh, “I have a highly trained sniper who has you in his scope right now. I fyou so much as twitch, you will be shot in the stomach. Now you might wonder ‘why the stomach?’ well you see, your precious Red Hood is on the opposite side of the city right now. As soon as I end this call with you, I am going to give him a ring. If you are shot in the stomach your death will be slow and panful, you will probably still be alive when he gets to you, but you will be too far gone to save. So you will die in his arms and in agony. He has fucked with my organization one too many times, and I think that it is time for him to pay, don’t you?”

“Mr. Mask, I don’t really think that me dying will make him stop coming after you”

“Listen, bitch, I don’t really give a shit what you think, you just need to do as you are told”

“Alright, I won’t move. I will stay right here”

“Good. Goodbye, I truly hope that you enjoy the wait”

You hear the click of the phone hanging up. You look down at your stomach and see the little red dot appear right above your belly button. You whimper and lock your knees, desperate not to fall, to not be shot. You knew that you would eventually be shot, that one the phone call between the Black Mask and the Red Hood was over that the snipers trigger would be pulled. That you were probably going to die that night.


Jason leapt from rooftop to rooftop, hurrying to finish him patrol so he could go get ready for his date. Currently he was on the phone with Tim, saying goodnight to his little boy

“Daddy! Daddy! I no wanna sleep!”

Jason chuckled, “You have to sleep, Timmy. You need to be a good boy and go to sleep, so you are all rested when Y/N comes over to play tomorrow”

Tim gave a long suffering sigh, “Okay daddy. Night night!”

“Night night, baby”

Jason hung up the phone and continued on his patrol. Five minutes later his phone rang again.


“Hello Mr. Hood! How is patrol tonight?”

“Black Mask. Didn’t expect to hear from you tonight”

“I have something to tell you” Black Mask practically sang, “I have your little sweetheart in the scope of a sniper right now! Your girl, what was he name? Y/N I believe”

Jason could feel his blood run cold, and he immediately began to make his way toward your apartment, “I swear to fucking God, if you hurt her …”

“What are you going to do? Kill me? You haven’t managed to do that you. Plus I do believe that you are working for the Batman now, and he has a very strict moral code against killing”

“I don’t give a shit about him, you had better not hurt her!”

“As soon as I hang up this phone, the message will be sent to my guy to shoot her. So you better hurry, Hood, or you won’t get the chance to say goodbye” the Black Mask’s laughter is cut off when he hangs up the phone.

Immediately Jason was calling Bruce, “B, I need an ambulance at Y/N’s apartment, Black Mask said that he had a sniper on her. I am in route now. He said that she would be shot when he ended the phone call, that was about two minutes ago”

“An ambulance has been dispatched to her location”

“Thank you”

“Jason” Damian’s voice spoke up, “You had better make it in time”

Jason just grunted, and ran even faster, desperate to get to Y/N, so save her.


The waiting seems to take hours, but in reality you know that it is only a few minutes. You tremble as you wait for the inevitable moment where you will be shot. Even though you are waiting for it, you are still not prepared when it happens. You hear the window shattering before you feel the pain. It feels like fire has ripped through your stomach. You scream.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck” you whimper, “gotta put pressure on it.”

You let out a sob as you when you use a blanket to try and stop the bleeding. You can hear an ambulance stop outside of your apartment, Jason had called an ambulance. You just might survive the night, you might make it. You can hear the EMT’s pounding on your door, shouting for you to unlock the door. You stumble to your feet, trying to make your way to the door.

“Miss?! Miss, open the door!”

You don’t really remember making your way to the door, but suddenly it is open and you are staring at two paramedics.

“Help” you whimper, collapsing forward, into the arms of the two men.

“Just stay with us! Can you tell up what happened?”

You try to answer, but you only end up coughing up blood. You can feel the edged of you vision begin to go grey. You can feel you consciousness slipping. The last thing you remember is burning pain in your stomach and you wondered how Jason would tell Tim that you were going to miss their play date tomorrow.

All-New X-Men (2015) #17  Finally the pic we were waiting for. The fight between these two powerful teams. Isn’t it wonderful that we can see in the first IVX issue where the X-men seem to be taking over and it seems like the X-men ain’t taking no crap from the Inhumans. Actually, that’s not really my concern. My concern is this…

Allow me to delineate my thoughts GOD I hate Storm’s costume, UGH. Storm looked like one of those old cheap shiny plastic black and white table cloths. Anyway, I was hoping for Marvel to have Storm facing the Queen, but I guess Marvel ain’t that stupid. How smart and unexpected of Marvel to put 2 weather manipulators in combat. The sister to Queen Medusa, and distant cousin to Black Bolt, Crystal is another prominent Inhuman and princess within their society. You gotta ask yourself “is Crystal blocking Storm’s lightning with fire?” One is a mutant who controls the weather and the other one is an Inhuman who can control all four elements, YIKES. Lightning don’t do a thing to Crystal as she somehow stopped Storms lightening from connecting with Gorgon.

And yes, I see it, I’m not blind, Crystal demolished Storm’s lightning (Just like you see in the first page). Don’t give me that crap of “Crystal did not stop anything from Storm.” because that would make you in denial. I know, I’ve been there myself until Marvel started undermining and segregating Storm. It went to a point where I couldn’t deny everything. I don’t think Storm could’ve gone solo with Crystal when Black Panther (I hate this guy and the day Marvel dragged Storm into his book) interfered or helped Storm in this battle. Crystal went all berserk with her elemental power. She’s creating this massive winds with sands through fire. This is some crazy shit.

Her Terrigen-based powers have given her a WIDE RANGE of abilities. Initially, she had mastery over the four classical elements of Fire, Water, Wind, and Earth, the four elements of nature. Whereas Storm can only manipulate weather, UGH. As time has gone on, she has shown herself to be capable of manipulating the weather in ways similar to the X-Man, Storm. She can also create, and manipulate electricity, in part, due to her ability to manipulate the atoms in the atmosphere, as well as most metals.

She can generate, or even halt, earthquakes. Her geokinetic powers are almost without limit and match one imbued with the Sakarran Old-Power. She possesses strong links to the Earth. Not only our planet, but also the entire universe is formed from material particles in the act of Elements. This is enough to put me in a state of alarm that in this battle we will face for the first time what these Inhumans are really capable of. Specifically Crystal who is close enough to storm due to similar powers. In my mind I’m screaming like “Marvel’s attempts to replace Storm.” Marvel is trying to screw Storm over and making her seem less valuable (and I’m going to pretend that Warbird doesn’t even exist). You have to remember that Storm is being written as incompetent in Extraordinary X-Men so there’s that too.

Edit: Last time I checked, her abilities were still the same except they are now greater. It doesn’t seem Charles Soule nerfed Crystal’s abilities.

I don’t think any of us want to know what it means to be Inhuman. Thanks Crystal, but I’ve seen enough. No need to show off.

anonymous asked:

Since you were talking about Cap 2, what do you think about MCU Natasha's D.O.B. being 1984 instead of 1920s, like in the comics? It did erase a lot of her history.

It erased a lot of her history in terms of years but not really in terms of her story. For the vast majority of Natasha’s publishing history she hasn’t been secretly immortal. The first stories of Natasha as a small child at the Battle of Stalingrad were published in the early 70s, which would have put Natasha in her mid-30s. Many characters had similar background ties to WW2 or Korea or Vietnam that have since faded away into the familiar impossibilities of comic book time. This kind of thing isn’t erasure, just an insistence that everything in the Marvel Universe happened no more than twelve years ago, and that Franklin Richards is still like 8.

The idea that Natasha is secretly much older than she looks was first brought up in an early 90s X-Men story, but Claremont, the writer, never offered an explanation for this revelation and left the book soon after. So that became a dangling plotline, and pretty soon other writers just decided to ignore it, which was pretty easy to do because it was literally one line in an X-Men comic. Creators continued to treat Natasha as being basically the age she appeared to be up through the middle 2000s. I’d say that it’s the Richard Morgan stuff that informs the MCU background of the character the most, and in those stories Natasha is explicitly stated to be in her late 30s.

Now, the MCU is highly informed by what I’ll call the Mark Millar era of comics. The Ultimates, Civil War, the Winter Soldier arc— all of them were published between 2002 and 2007. Those Richard Morgan Black Widow minis fall pretty directly into the same time period and aesthetic sensibilities. Iron Man came out in 2008, and I’m sure they started brainstorming a sequel even before the first film was released. They wanted to include Black Widow, so they looked at some of the more recent comics to get ideas about what Black Widow was like, and being born in 1929 hadn’t yet been firmly established or adequately explained.

It actually was around 2008 that the idea that Natasha was much, much older than she looked came back into continuity, primarily through Ed Brubaker’s post-Civil War Captain America stories, but also through some Wolverine: Origins stories no one remembers anymore. Anyway, by the time Iron Man 2 was set for release, Marvel was publishing stories that finally explained how Natasha could actually be 80 years old and showing her fighting in WWII. But it was too late for these ideas to be incorporated into the MCU.

Johansson has said that she’s always played Natasha as being born in 1984, that it was something covered in her initial talks about the character. I know I get annoyed when they retcon the comic stories for the sole sake of having them be more like the movies, and I think making Natasha’s D.O.B. circa 1929 in Captain America 2 would have been retconning the movies to make them more like the comics.

I don’t actually dislike the idea that Natasha was born in 1929 and I think some of the comic stories we’ve gotten from that are really cool. But it’s not an essential part of her character for me, probably because I started with a lot of the 2002-2007 comics, just like the MCU did. I don’t mind the comics and the movies being different in this regard.


When you and Miss Guthrie were plotting this little coup… when she asked, “Well shit, Anne, what makes you think ol’ Jack will go along with this plan of ours and not plead the truth to his men, as he’s most certainly going to feel duty bound to do?” What did you say?

- I told her given the choice between them or me, you’d choose me.

What Makes You Special?

Pairing: Erik Lehnsherr x reader

Words: 839

Warnings: none, just fluffy fluf

Request: Oneshot or a drabble where the reader goes to Xavier’s school, and when she is asked to show her mutation, she feels super insecure, since she has these giant wings, that look like a bat. (So they are more like skin, and bones, than bird wings) and after she shows her wings to everyone, Warren decides to make fun of her, with his bully friends behind him, and she feels even worse about herself. Maybe an Erik/Charles/Hank fluff ending? Love, or just friends. *secretly wishing for an Erikxreader* - for anon

A/N: Hey guys, I’m sorry it took me so long. I’ve been having a hard time lately but I’m better now and it’s mostly because of your lovely messages!! Thank you!

“So, what makes you special, love?” someone called from the main hall.

You turned around to identify the person and you saw Warren. What made him special were this beautiful angel wings.

“Umm… nothing worth seeing,” you answered uncomfortably. Actually, you were just insecure about your ability and as the question came from him, you were even more insecure.

“C'mon, sweetheart,” Warren continued to insist. “You’ve been for a while now and nobody knows what your ability is.”

You looked around warily and uncertain. You didn’t spot any of your closest friends. “O-okay,” you agreed, still not sure of what you were doing.

You closed your eyes to get yourself to focus more easily and then you let go. A pair of black wings deployed from your back. They looked like leather but at the same time, like skin. You despised them. How they looked. The sensation you felt everytime you felt their rough surface. As you opened your eyes, you discovered your audience had grown in size.

A loud, sharp laugh burst from Warren’s mouth and, soon, from every member of his group of bullies. “What are those abominations? They can’t even begin to be compared to my wings. Yours are horrendous!” he exclaimed and once again incentivated a collective laugh.

Tears gathered on the edge of your eyes, begging to race down your cheeks. You did not let them fall.

“Hey!” a strong voice called from behind you.

You turned around and saw none other than your best friend: Erik. A relieved smile took control over your lips.

Both of you met at the school and you grew closer evey day. After a few months, it was inevutable for you to develop a crush on him. Little did you know, Erik was crushing on you too. Neither had the guts to make the first move, though, even if you were motivated by your friends.

“What did you just say about her wings?” Erik asked threateningly as he marched towards the angel. They were inspected each other very closely.

“Erik, it doesn’t matter. You don’t need to do this,” you said grabbing his arm and attempting to take him away in vain.

“The hell I don’t. The asshole just made the terrible mistake of critizicing you.”

“Who did you call an asshole?” Warren asked rhetorically. He stepped foward and pushed Erik.

Erik didn’t take a minute to think about what he was going to do or the consequences it’d bring, and he punched the bully right in the jaw. Everyone around gasped in surprise.

You looked at Erik and saw nothing but rage. You had never seen him so angered. “Erik, please. This isn’t worth it. I’m fine, okay?” you insisted trying to bring him with you once again.

But when Erik lowered his guard to answer to you, Warren took the opportunity to punch him. You called Erik’s name concerned.

“What is going on here?”

A professor. I’ve got to take Erik from here, you thought.

Luckily, the halls had a high ceiling and you were able to fly away, taking your best friend with you.

“What were you thinking?” you inquired angrily. You couldn’t even think of a reason for Erik to react like that. “Warren was just being a jerk. I could’ve handled it.”

Erik locked his gaze with yours. “I couldn’t just stay there and hear all that bullshit about you.”

Your look softened and a small smile occupied your lips. You stepped closer and hugged your best friend tightly. “Thank you, Erik.”

The flustered mutant didn’t say anything, he just hugged you back and rested his chin over your head lovingly.

You pulled away enough to face at him but not enough to stop hugging him. “We should get that black eye some ice.”

Erik hummed and nodded in response, still grinning immensely.

“I still don’t know why you did it.”

“You know why.”

You looked at him confused. “No. I really don’t,” you chuckled.

Erik didn’t answer with words. He answered leaning closer to you and linking your lips with his. Your eyes widened in surprised, but you reacted soon enough and kissed Erik back.

When the electrifying kiss was over, neither of you could erase the dorky smile you were wearing.

“Let’s go get you some ice,” you said in a low voice.

“That is what you’re thinking right now?” Erik asked in mock offense.

You laughed and nudged his side. “I wasn’t until I saw the black eye again. Now come, I don’t want it to hurt.” You pecked his lips rapidly, grabbed his hand and lead him to the infirmary.

Erik just followed you with the hugest of smiles.

Safe and Sound

Bucky Barnes x Reader

This was honestly hard to write like I love angst but this was heart wrenching to write tbh also there will be a part two coming soon so watch for that!!

word count: 1438

Originally posted by lovelynemesis

You were 20 years old, and at the point in your life where everything you did felt like a mistake. It had been one week since the accident, and you had barely been able to get out of bed since. Every single time you closed your eyes, all you could see was the little boy’s face as the purple light radiating from your body flared outwards and caused him to lose his footing on the edge of the metal beam. You let out a shrill scream and fell back against the bricks, your hands flying up to cover your mouth as he tumbled over the edge.

The team found you an hour later, shivering and rocking back and forth, your breath coming in short bursts. They weren’t there when it happened, they were on the ground fighting Red Skull when you had noticed a little boy stuck on the piece of metal hanging from the crane in the sky. You couldn’t leave him there, so when you were sure the rest of your team was okay where they were, you began climbing up to rescue him.

You wanted to help, you want to do something good. But your something good turned into something bad rather quickly.

Now you were reduced to a shell of a person, and you didn’t know how to come back. You knew the risks, you knew that as an Avenger you couldn’t save every single person, but it didn’t mean that this didn’t hurt any less. Because of you, because of your stupid powers, a little boy was dead. A little boy, who was in the wrong place at the wrong time, would never grow up to be whatever he wanted to be because of you.

Your powers had started when you were twelve, and because you didn’t want your foster family to go back on their decision to adopt you, you suppressed your powers into a small ball in your chest. You never really forgot they were there, but sometimes you could at least pretend like you were normal. After a few years of suppressing your powers at age 17, they had grown to a point where holding them back was killing you. So you contacted Tony Stark and joined his band of misfits, effectively making your powers a positive trait about yourself. But now after the accident last week, you wanted nothing to do with your powers. You were dangerous, your powers were dangerous, and you wanted everyone to stay away from you. As soon as the team had brought you home after the mission, you ran to your room and locked it.

All week there had been gentle knocks and pleading from several of your teammates to let them come in and help you. Your boyfriend Bucky had been sleeping outside your door all week, just waiting for you to run into his arms so he could do something to make you feel better. At first you did not want to leave your room, but after doing some research the past few days, you had formed a plan to prevent what had happened from happening again.

When you finally decided upon your plan you felt a surge of guilt, as this plan could quite possibly hurt everyone around you, especially Bucky.

Your plan was to go to HYDRA and have them take away your powers.

You knew they would do it, they had contacted you and said they would. They didn’t ask for anything in return, and while that raised a few red flags, your need for getting rid of your powers outweighed the worry. So, one night around 3 AM, you quietly crept over Bucky’s sleeping body, left a note sitting on the counter explaining where you had gone, and left the compound.  

The next morning, Bucky had awoken and felt a weird feeling creep up on him. He shook it off and walked to the kitchen to start his morning coffee. There, he saw Steve holding a piece of paper, his hands shaking while reading it. Bucky became alarmed when Steve let go of the paper and let it flutter to the ground.

Bucky bent down and picked it up, his eyes immediately recognizing Y/N’s handwriting.

Hi Everyone,

Y/N here. Before I explain where I went, I just want you all to know how sorry I am that it got to this point. Bucky, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.

After last week and the events that took place, I’ve decided to have my powers removed. The only people who offered to help me with it was HYDRA, and I know how fucked up that is considering all that HYDRA has done to us, but I can’t live like this anymore. I just…I can’t.

I don’t know when or even if I’m coming back. But I hope you know how much I love every single one of you, and how much this team…this family, has meant to me.

When Bucky was done reading the note, he dropped it and sprinted out of the compound.

“Bucky wait! Bucky!” Steve shouted after him, trying to stop him from leaving.

“What’s all the commotion?” Tony asked, yawning as he walked into the kitchen. Steve shoved the note into Tony’s chest and ran after his friend, trying to come up with a plan.

Tony read the note and clenched his jaw, knowing that mission was about to become dangerous very fast.

He rounded up the rest of the team and waited for Bucky and Steve to come back.

Luckily, Steve caught up to Bucky within minutes. Bucky was stopped at the end of the street his chest heaving as his gaze darted around frantically. Steve’s heart broke when he noticed the tears streaming down his face.

Steve placed his hands on Bucky’s shoulders and tried to get him to calm down. Bucky kept reaching up and tugging at his own hair, soft whimpers escaping him. He collapsed against Steve’s chest and let out a strangled sob before completely breaking down.

After everything that HYDRA did to him, he had always promised to keep you safe and now they had you, and Bucky’s worst nightmare was coming true. After Bucky had calmed down slightly, Steve led him back into the compound. Everyone was in the conference room waiting for the two of them to get back. As soon as both super soldiers walked in, Tony hugged Bucky.

“We’re going to get her back kid, I promise you that.”

Meanwhile, you were sitting in a large metal chair, while a tall man in a lab coat tightened leather straps across your wrists. You swallowed nervously as the man moved a machine that had what looked like a giant needle attached to it facing towards your chest.

The man looked up with a glint in his eye and said, “Now, this will hurt but it will all be over soon.” Before you could reply, he stepped back and pressed a button, making the needle machine buzz and start tapping away in the center of your chest. You screamed out in pain and writhed around, trying to make it stop, but the leather restraints held you in place.

Suddenly, the pain let up a little bit, and it felt like ice was being injected into your veins. You opened your eyes to see a purple light being sucked into the metal tapping into your chest. It traveled back into the syringe and into a small glass chamber attached to the needle.

The pain came back at full force, and your mind tried to frantically think of something to stop it. A sudden flash of a memory came to the surface of your mind, and you remembered cuddling on the couch with Bucky after he had awoken from a nightmare a few weeks ago. You replayed the scene, trying to block out the physical pain that your body was currently enduring.

The next thing you knew, your vision was swimming as the needle retracted from your body. The spots in front of your eyes grew larger and larger, and the tall man laughed as your body grew weaker and weaker until you completely blacked out.

Tony and Sam were in the middle of a conversation back at the compound when the doorbell rang. Both men glanced at each other and confusion, and went to open the door. When they opened it, Sam gasped in shock as Tony screamed Bucky’s name.

Bucky came running to the sound of the shout and slid to a stop when he saw what was currently in Tony’s arms.


Soft White and Black Light

Idk, don’t ask.
Theme song > here
Warren had plenty to hurt over.
His mother’s death, his terrible father, the streets he owned that stabbed him in the back, the cage that ruined every last bit of him, the idiot god that stole his wings and made him something he wasn’t- it all piled up in a stupid, heavy weight that tore at his brain and ate at his skin.

Keep reading

The Arrivals Part 2

King Jon rode in on black warhorse, the very same accompanying creature who had loyally taken him away. Moments like these, he reminded her most of father. Two equally honorable and brooding men, and at this moment both who made stupid mistakes. A Targaryen was coming to Winterfell. What that meant to the North, Sansa couldn’t be sure.

It was Jon who believed dragon glass and this fair-haired foreign invader were the key to defeating the Night King and his growing army of the Others. These were threats equal in nature to Sansa and only one certainly approached with haste.

But she couldn’t waiver. As Lady of Winterfell, there was a part to play. If not for herself, for the common folk. For the North, as a Stark it was her instilled duty. Her family had watched over these lands for generations. Jon Stark. Theon Stark. Bran the Builder.  So many, and only one had knelt before an invading Targaryen, Torrhen Stark.

Dragons had swayed their ancestor, as perhaps it had Jon. Lady Sansa wouldn’t bend so easily. This is what she told herself, head held high against winter’s cruel winds. She watched Jon dismount, handing reigns to stable master. He appeared deep in thought. Not at all uncommon of his nature, yet a wave of ease washed over those Stark features.

He was home. They all understood the need for these old stone walls. Arya and Bran at either side, Jon’s face couldn’t contain joy. He is almost unsure who to approach first. 

“It’s been awhile,” Arya stepped forward. Oh, what he doesn’t know yet. Little Arya, the troublemaker who preferred trousers was now a young woman with an assassin’s stealth and nimbleness. Deadly, their sister kept a murderous list in her head of all those she would one day kill. 

Jon smiles, and Sansa thinks there are almost tears. “It has,” he rushes forward and swoops the small, wisp of a girl into his arms. Their reunion is so much like hers and Jon’s. He holds Arya to himself and strokes hair with gloved hand. “I’ve missed you,” Jon says at last. Sansa looks on, but a twinge of something resonates deeply in chest. 

More horses crowd into the bailey. Hooves crunching snow, whinnying as riders dismount and they are lead away to be fed, watered, and rubbed down by stable hands. Of the new faces, Sansa recognized many as men of Winterfell. Others however, are unfamiliar.

A young, burly man with black hair and a war hammer at his side was such a face. Arya however, having been released from Jon’s embrace, is sparked with wonderment. “Gendry?” she asks as Jon lowers her to ground. Jon turns with amusement to see her rush towards the man and sticks a hand out. 

“Jon,” Bran interjects, wheeling himself a little closer, “She was not what you expected was she?” It’s a puzzling statement. Clearly, Jon is more than a little taken aback. “We must talk soon,” Bran finishes before he turns and has a servant take him to the Godswood. Of all the Starks, Sansa thinks it is Bran who is the most changed. He is a young man with the eyes of a wise old man. Even in heavy brown furs, surrounded by direwolf sigils, the mischievously spirited boy is long gone.

“Welcome home,” Sansa greets dutifully, curtsying. 

Jon nods, “It’s good to be back.” He looks as if to say something more but is interrupted by strange roars in the distance. The entirety of Winterfell falls silent aside from newly returned. Sansa stills. 

“I told her it was unwise. But they are like her children,” Jon lays a hand on Sansa’s shoulder. Composing herself, Sansa looked deep into those gray eyes and stated simply, “Those are not children, Jon.”

Once more and louder, the cries echo out. Now the courtyard begins to shift uneasily. The kennel master sprints off as the new hounds begin to howl and growl. Horses in the distance whinny and a stable boy is almost crushed as a the mare he leads away rears. Father always said that the animals could feel what we could not. 

Sansa and Jon joined Arya and her acquaintance. Belatedly, she notices another unexpected face. That of the Hound’s. She hadn’t seen those scars since the Battle of Blackwater. His eyes lock on hers but there is little to say. Two black specks appear from above.

Sansa reminds herself who she is and prepares to face the Dragon Queen.  

Not her (Tara x Reader) TWD

*Not my picture*

Summary: Being Tara’s girlfriend and going with Negan to save her life.

You had just arrived back to Alexandria from scavenging. As you and Sasha drove up you saw the large black trucks parked inside. Which could only mean that Negan has come early.

“Shit.” Sasha cursed under her breath, as she pulled up to the gates. Eugene and some of Negan’s men were standing there as the gates rolled open. Sasha drove through the gates and parked the car.

“Well, Well, Well. What do we have here?” Dwight asked walking up to the driver’s window.

“Nothing of importance,” Sasha muttered.

“Well, that’s not very polite. Get out.” He demanded opening her door. The same time another guy opened your door and pulled you out. “Search them, and the car. Take everything you can.” Dwight demanded.

One of the guys walked over to you and started patting you down. You flinched lightly under his touch.

“You like that don’t you?” He slurred. You internally shuttered. You could feel his breath against your ear and neck. “Why don’t you come back with us, and I can show you somewhere special?” He breathed against your neck. You jumped away from his touch.

“Get away from me!” You yelled and began to walk away.

“Don’t walk away when I’m fucking talking to you!” He yelled and yanked your shoulder.

“Stop!” You yelled, and before anything else could happen you felt someone walk up behind you.

“What the fuck is going on now?” You heard a deep voice behind you. You jumped startled. Negan.

“Don’t need to be scared sunshine.” He smiled and walked over to the guy who was harassing you. “I don’t want to fucking ask again, what the fuck is going on?” He asked more irritated this time.

“She wouldn’t let me check her for weapons.” The guy lied.

“Bullshit,” Sasha muttered.

You looked around at the growing crowd around you guys. You saw you girlfriend Tara standing next to Carl and Rick. She stared at you with a worried look. You tried to give her a reassuring nod, which didn’t seem to work.

“Well someone start fucking explaining. Before Lucille her gets thirsty.” He said starting to swing his bat around.

“He was being really creepy, and trying to touch her in an inappropriate way,” Dwight said breaking through the crowd of people.

“Now that’s no fucking way to treat a lady is it, Jack?” Negan asked walking over to Jack. Jack slightly shook his head. “If I ever see you do anything of that sort again. I won’t hesitate to fucking kill you.” Jack nodded and walked away.

“I am so fucking sorry, sweetheart.” Negan said turning towards you.

“It’s fine. Can I just go back home.” You whispered.

“Of course. Do as you fucking please.” Negan smiled. You walked over to Tara, as she pulled you into a hug. You guys started heading back towards the houses when a gunshot sounded. Everyone stopped at stared at each other for a second before following Rick and Negan towards the direction of the sound.

As you guys finally crowded around. You saw someone laying in a pool of blood. You didn’t recognize him, so he was probably one of Negan’s men.
“What the fuck is this shit?” Negan asked angrily. Rosita stood there with the gun in her hand.  “You killed one of my fucking men?” His voice loudly echoed off of the houses. You and Carl exchanged worried looks. Carl was one of your best friends.

“Listen. I’m sure there was a reason, right Rosita?” Rick said looking over at Rosita.

“I-I.” She started before Negan cut her off.

“I don’t give a fucking shit why. She killed one of my men. That’s gonna end in some form of a fucking punishment.” He yelled.

You, Tara, and Carl stood in the front row next to Rick. Negan looked around angrily. “You.” He pointed. You followed his eyes, which pointed at Tara. “I want someone fucking dead, and I fucking choose you.” He yelled. Your heart stopped. He got a better grip on his bat, but before anyone could do anything you stepped in front of Tara. Blocking her from Negan.

“Don’t. Please. Just don’t hurt her.” You pleaded.

“Your group killed one of my fucking men. You have to have some sort of punishment.” He said in an eerily calm voice.

“I understand that. They took one of yours, and you want to take one of ours, but what if we manage to arrange something else.” You tried to plead.

“Like fucking what?” He asked.

“I’ll go with you. I’ll do whatever you ask of me. Anything you want. Just please leave her alone.” You pleaded as tears rolled down your face.

Negan sat there for a while. “I don’t think I can fucking do that, sweetheart. Now move out of the way.”

“No. Please. Anything.” You quietly pleaded one last time. “I will fucking do anything. I don’t care what it is. Just, please. Let her go. You could bash my head in right now if that’s what you want. Ple-ase” You choked on a sob.

Negan sighed, “Fine, but this is the first, and the fucking only time I will let this happen. I just want you to know that the only reason I am doing this is, that I actually like you. Take her to the truck.” Negan said signaling to his other men.

“No!” Rick and Carl both yelled at the same time, as two guys grabbed your arms, and lead you away.

“Wait.” You said. “Can I at least say goodbye?” You asked.

“Fine.” He said and the two guys let you go, as you ran into Tara’s arms. “See Rick, she already has me wrapped around her fucking finger.” Negan smiled.

You pressed your lips to Tara’s and held her as close as you could. Carl ran up and pulled you into a hug the moment you pulled away from Tara.

“Don’t come after me. You hear me.” You said to both Tara and Carl. “Don’t get yourself killed, or I will kill you.” Tara slightly smiled with tears streaming her face. They both nodded.  

You walked over to Rick and hugged his neck. “Watch him. Don’t let him come after me.” You said pulling away. Rick nodded with tears in his eyes. You were like a daughter to him. You’ve been with him and Carl since the beginning. “Bye.” You half smiled at everyone and placed a kiss on Tara’s cheek one last time.

“Y/N, I love you.” She said as you began to back away towards Negan. “I love you too, Tara.” You smiled and turned away. You could hear her break into sobs, as you walked away with Negan. His hand on you back leading you away.

This story could go really far. Let me know if you want me to continue on with it. Also, I can make a tag list for Tara, TWD, Negan, Carl, or anything/one. Just let me know.