wish they were a couple in real life

Infatuation - Prologue

(Gif: qyusoon)

[Mlist] , Chapter 1

Yandere!Taehyung au 

Genre: Horror, crime, murder mystery

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: Violence, swearing, murder, stalking

(A yandere is a Japanese character archetype. Yandere’s are usually people who fall deeply in love with someone to the point where it becomes an obsession and sickness. It may get to the point in which the Yandere will do anything to keep the person they love by their side.)

Prologue. It Begins.

Kim Taehyung sat in the chair starting peacefully at the pictures surrounding him. Alone, in his private basement; a room neither of the two relatives who owned this house knew about, his eyes glanced over his now large collection of photos of you. It had only been five weeks. Five weeks since you had moved into this town, and yet Taehyung already knew all about you. He had spent every week since your arrival following you, researching you, stalking you. But Taehyung didn’t think what he was doing was wrong. He believed it was fine because he loved you.

It was two days after a new family moved in a couple of houses down from Taehyung, that he met you. Your small family of four, a mother, father, brother and yourself, had all apparently come back to this town after moving away when you were thirteen. Taehyung knew this because he overheard it when he was behind a bush listening to you tell your new neighbour about it. Taehyung himself hadn’t lived in this town when you were younger, but he wished he had. Perhaps then he could have gotten to know you. Now he has no real way of finding his way into your life, but if he were a child it would have been easier.

The time Taehyung met you, you were walking a small dog near his house. It was then Taehyung had his head turned to his phone, walking along the pavement, oblivious to his surroundings. But as you tried to walk past him, the dog (he knew to be your own) decided he would rather lunge at Taehyung and try to bite him. It resulted in Taehyung faking surprise as the small ‘rat’ tried to go at him. You were trying your hardest to separate your dog from Taehyung when the dog went and gave him a big bite into his leg. It didn’t hurt Taehyung, then  again nothing could, but that all changed.

By the end of the confrontation you had your dog in your arms who had now calmed down, and you were pouring out apology after apology. That was the moment your eyes met. He didn’t know what it was. Maybe they slight innocence, the melodic voice, the gleaming eyes, or the glowing aura that surrounded you, but for the first time since Taehyung was born, he felt the most overwhelming emotion. Love. He couldn’t explain it but he felt something for this pure girl.

You were panicking at the situation. New to the neighbourhood and your dog had bitten a stranger. The bite wasn’t bad but there was a mark. Fear of what may happen you did your best to make it up to this boy. But he didn’t get angry. He was surprisingly calm. That was because Taehyung had perfected masking his emotions. All he had known before was rage,m and calm. Not happiness. Nor sadness. Just red and grey.  So as a child, to fit in he learned how to pretend to feel the emotions he was immune too, and control the only two emotions he had.

Taehyung was lost in you, when you asked if he would join you to your house. You hoped to attend to first aid. But Taehyung declined. He needed to get home and think.

That was so far, your only encounter with Taehyung. Because, he made sure to keep out your eyes. He knew you felt bad for what your dog had done. But he didn’t care about the ‘mutt’. He only cared about you. You grew to become his obsession. His addiction. Two weeks in and he had already established your routine, likes and dislikes and had stolen a hairbrush of yours. He couldn’t explain it but all he knew was he was infatuated with you. And those feelings only grew. It didn’t take long for him to admire your hard work at settling into the town. How you were friendly to those around you. How you always took care of your family. Before Taehyung couldn’t care less about others. He pitied how they put so much energy into being alive despite none of it, in his opinion mattered. He found life boring and too simple. But when you ‘wasted your time’ by being kind or thoughtful, it was special. And from then on, he grew to know you; yet you knew nothing of him.

So, now Taehyung continued to stare at pictures of you. You, jogging, eating, sleeping, laughing. He had pictures of you in every angle, in every setting and time of day. He also had four of your items now. A hairbrush, pair of socks, used lipstick, and a button of what he knew to be from your favourite jacket. Some might think this worthless trash but to Taehyung it was like gold. He cherished everything you touched and owned. And he only had hope to take even better things from you. Maybe your toothbrush, or diary, or perhaps your undergarments. Taehyung relished at the thought. Holding a pair of your underwear seemed an important goal. A goal he vowed to achieve one day. But he had to be patient. It was hard enough sitting, hidden outside your bedroom window at night, but having to crawl through the window and take stuff was a challenge. But he still managed to do it.

Getting up he yawned and put all his treasures away. He turned of the light and crept up the dark room’s stairs before sneaking out of the basement. He couldn’t risk his cousin finding out about this room. It would arouse too many questions, but luckily Jimin was upstairs, probably watching a movie.

Taehyung too retreated to his room. His aunt would be back tomorrow. For two days, she said; then she would go back abroad to her job as an archaeologist. He was very lucky to live in such an empty house. Before it was because he preferred to be alone, but now it was because he could get away from questions of what he was doing now that he followed you.

Taehyung prepared for bed. He went over your plans for tomorrow. You were (much to his disliking) spending the day with your only friend, a boy you had apparently used to be friends with before you left this town. This boy was already becoming a thorn in Taehyung’s side. He wanted to get rid of him. And he already had plans too. But it was taking a long time.

Eventually, as Taehyung drifted to sleep, his mind full of thoughts of you, he prepared himself for tomorrow. Hopefully the last day of the summer holidays would prove useful in making you his. It shouldn’t take too long. Taehyung thought. After all he loved you enough.

Yes you have to respect actors’ spouces!

This is a cross fandom thing because the very thing that has had me pulling my hair out in the SPN Fandom for years is now as bad in the Game of Thrones fandom and it is probably else where too.

- Just because you ship real people, that are not a real life couple, you don’t get to be an asshole to their actual signifigant others. 

- Just because you don’t like something about a person you don’t know, you don’t get to sent them hate. 

- Just because you wish you were on the arm of your fav, you don’t get to be a dick to their signifigant real life others. 

- Write all the fanfiction. Make all the fanart. But don’t confuse reality with fiction. Don’t be a dick! 

- You have the right to your opinions. You don’t have the right to harass actors, their spouces and their fans that doesn’t share your opinions.

- If you don’t respect and trust in your fav’s judgement and opinions about their own lives you are not much of a fan to be honest. 

Ship and let sail, but for the love of Chuck Live and let live too people. 

Obstetrics and Gynecology Advice

So I finished my Ob/Gyn rotation last week, and here’s some take aways that I found valuable. Take this with a grain of salt. I’m just a wee third year medical student:

Before the Rotation:

1. I studied a few things beforehand, and several residents/attendings said that it showed during the first couple of weeks of the rotation. Know fetal heart tracing basics and why they happen (baseline HR, variability, accels, decels). Know what G’s and P’s are (TPAL!). Review pre-eclampsia. You’ll learn more about this on the rotation, but if you’re at a larger urban hospital like I am, you’ll see a lot of this.

2. Watch a video of a baby being born and a c-section if you have no idea what you’re getting yourself into. If you haven’t taken surgery yet, and really want to be prepared, watch a video of a subcuticular suture. I closed more skin on this rotation than I did on general surgery.

3. Sleep and grocery shop because lol who knows when you’ll get the chance later.

Labor and Delivery

1. Follow your residents EVERYWHERE. You will get left behind if you don’t.

2. Offer to get an H&P on as many triage patients as you can, especially if it’s a labor rule-out. At my hospital, we weren’t allowed to go into rooms of laboring patients we hadn’t met before. So try to meet as many as you can, so you can get more deliveries! Don’t just expect to be handed deliveries. You have to earn it.

3. Ask to do as much as you can. Whether it’s cervix checks or presentation ultrasounds, there’s lots of smaller hands-on stuff that the resident can do in a few seconds and will forget to include you on if you don’t ask.

4. Some people might not agree with me on this, but if you’re interested in Ob/Gyn and have to do night shifts, don’t sleep if you can help it. See above, if you are asleep, there are tons of small things the residents do throughout the night that they won’t wake you up for. Also, there were a couple of times people rolled in by ambulance at 10cm and pushed a baby out in a few minutes. You don’t want to miss this. Be included in as much as you can! Plus, you can always study during slower nights.

5. C-sections are so much fun! Wear the knee high boots, and grab that suction because you’re going to need it. Eat something beforehand and don’t forget to bend your knees.

6. You’ll see lots of body fluids. Practice your poker face and don’t scowl when things get weird.


1. Don’t forget the OB and GYN histories. For OB, get the full G’s and P’s. Don’t forget to ask about miscarriages and abortions. Ask about any pregnancy complications (i.e. hypertension, diabetes, preterm delivery) and mode of delivery. For GYN, ask about last menstrual period, how heavy they are, how regular they are, and how long they last. Then, ask about birth control/condom usage, history of STI’s (list them off because sometimes people don’t know), and pap smears (any abnormal ones?). Finally, ask about sexual activity (men/women/both, multiple partners, etc.). This seems like a lot to ask, but if you don’t ask, many people won’t tell!

2. Be comfortable with speculum exams. For God’s sake, don’t tell patients to “spread your legs”. Ask them to let their knees fall to the sides. Tell them to expect your touch and downward pressure. Insert the speculum ALL the way and open, the cervix will 9 times out of 10 pop into view from there. Make sure you close the speculum while taking it out.

3. Know what tests need to be ordered when for each OB visit throughout pregnancy. Know the types of spontaneous abortions and what can be expectantly managed. Know the work up for infertility. Know when colposcopy and LEEP are generally indicated. Know when endometrial biopsies are indicated.

4. Talk to every patient about birth control if they aren’t already on it and aren’t trying to get pregnant! Maybe this is something I’m just passionate about, but no one is going to fault you if during your presentation for a patient with a vulvar lesion or vaginal discharge you say “…oh by the way, she’s interested in trying a Nexplanon”.

Gynecologic Surgery

1. I only had a week of this but know your anatomy. Know layers of the abdominal wall, parts of the fallopian tube, and uterine ligaments.

2. Fibroids and abnormal uterine bleeding. Learn this. Know the types of fibroids and when you treat abnormal uterine bleeding with surgery.

3. Sleeping patients are the best time to practice speculum and bimanual exams.

Shelf Exam

1. I don’t know my score yet, but I studied sooo much for this one. I read BluePrints, did all the UWise/UWorld questions x1, and all the questions I got wrong x1.

2. Honestly, I love the ACOG committee opinions and practice bulletins. Ask your resident to use their account if you don’t have one. If you only choose a couple to read, the hypertension/pre-eclampsia and gestational diabetes ones are great.

3. Just work hard, and it will all be ok! After taking the shelf, I realized that I saw so many of the clinical vignettes in real life, which was pretty cool.

4. Some things I wish I studied more were STI’s and antibiotics, breast disease, and stages of labor.

I probably have a lot more advice, so if you have questions, just ask! These are just some things that helped me along the way.

Ultimate Ship Meme - AkaFuri

I was hoping I’d get AkaFuri, and I got it twice! This turned out a lot harder than I thought it would be, lol. Some of these took a while!


Send in two (or more) names and I’ll fill all this out about the ship!


  • Rate the Ship -  11/10 would recommend
    Awful | Ew | No pics pls | I’m not comfortable | Alright | I like it! | Got Pics? | Let’s do it! | Why is this not getting more attention?! | The OTP to rule all other OTPs
  • How long will they last? - Forever and ever, okay. 
  • How quickly did/will they fall in love? - They realized they liked the other fairly quickly, but it took them forever to do anything about it. (Slowest slow burn is my shit)
  • How was their first kiss? - Short and sweet, but it left both of their cheeks pink and their lips tingly for hours afterwards.


  • Who proposed? - Akashi, for sure.
  • Who is the best man/men? - For Furihata I’d go with either Fukuda or Kawahara, and for Akashi either Midorima or Kuroko (since he played a part in them meeting) Or maybe Mibuchi?
  • Who is the braid’s maid(s)? - A huge mash up of the GOM, Rakuzan, and Seirin.
  • Who did the most planning? - Akashi hired a company for most of it, but they both planned the details fairly evenly. 
  • Who stressed the most? - Furihata, who was worried about tripping and/or messing up the vows. 
  • How fancy was the ceremony? -  Furihata wanted a smaller ceremony, so they met somewhere in the middle of “Akashi Level Big” and “Not Over-The-Top Fancy”
    Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 | Normal Church Wedding | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big. 
  • Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? - Bokushi lmao. For real though, I can’t think of anyone. Everyone’s invited.


  • Who is on top? -  Akashi, but they do switch occasionally. 
  • Who is the one to instigate things? - Furihata likes to claim that Akashi does, but it’s actually a very even split. 
  • How healthy is their sex life? - It can be difficult at times with Akashi’s work schedule, so they have to take advantage when they can. 
    Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They are humping each other on the couch right now
  • How kinky are they? -  I’d give them a solid 5. (Obviously butt stuff is already a given, lmao) They’re both fairly vanilla, but they’re not afraid to spice things up or try new things on occasion.
    Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head
  • How long do they normally last? - Fairly average.(Akashi has hella stamina when he needs it though)
  • Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms? - Akashi likes to spoil Furihata with more, but Furihata will try his hardest to get him back.
  • How rough are they in bed? - They typically stay on the softer side, but they’re not afraid to rough it up occasionally. 
    Softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | The bed’s shaking and squeaking every time | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make Dwayne Johnson blush. Also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it.
  • How much cuddling/snuggling do they do? - ALL THE SNUGGLING. You’d never know it seeing them in public, other than some light touches. But when they’re home? Snuggles.
    No touching after sex | 2 | 3 | 4 | A little spooning at night, or on the couch, but not in public | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory.


  • How many children will they have naturally? -  Uh, none?
  • How many children will they adopt? -  1 or 2. 
  • Who gets stuck with the most diapers? - Furihata, since Akashi still has to work.
  • Who is the stricter parent? - Furihata when they’re younger, only because Akashi won’t, lol. 
  • Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? - Again, Furihata.
  • Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? - Akashi before he leaves for work in the morning.
  • Who is the more loved parent? - This is hard. The kids look up to Akashi more, but Furihata is the one they go to for more comfort and support.
  • Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? - Akashi. He wants to know everything and goes in with a checklist to ask the teachers.
  • Who cried the most at graduation? - Furihata, who sobbed like a baby. Akashi holds his cool but he’s clutching Furihata’s hand the whole time.
  • Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? - Furihata finds out first because the kids absolutely don’t want Akashi to know about it, but Akashi is the one who bails them out and makes sure everything gets swept away with no issues.


  • Who does the most cooking? - The professional cook, lol. But between the two of them, Furihata because Akashi is clueless in a kitchen. 
  • Who is the most picky in their food choice? - Neither one is very picky. 
  • Who does the grocery shopping? - They have someone who does the shopping, but Furihata probably would. 
  • How often do they bake desserts? - Occasionally?
  • Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? - They’re both pretty even, but Akashi prefers more salad/vegetables and Furihata is more meat.
  • Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? - Akashi, for sure.
  • Who is more likely to suggest going out? - I can see either one, but probably more Furihata, who might bring up how long it’s been since they’ve last gone out and suggest it. 
  • Who is more likely to burn the house down accidentally while cooking? - I don’t think Akashi would be that bad at cooking, but definitely Akashi. 


  • Who cleans the room? - The maids It would be pretty even. 
  • Who is really against chores? - Both of them are a little spoiled by all the help around the house.
  • Who cleans up after the pets? - Mostly Furihata, but it’s a pretty even split. 
  • Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? - Akashi, when he’s stressed and just wants to go to bed.
  • Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? - Neither, but depending on who the guests are, maybe Furihata.
  • Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning? - Furihata, definitely. 


  • Who takes the longer showers/baths? - Akashi, especially after a long day.
  • Who takes the dog out for a walk? - Furihata, or maybe both of them later in the afternoon. 
  • How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? - They go hard for every holiday. 
  • What are their goals for the relationship? - To make each other happy and to always make sure they save time in their busy schedules for each other. 
  • Who is most likely to sleep till noon? - Akashi will on occasion if he doesn’t have work the next day. Furihata is more than happy to stay in bed with him. 
  • Who plays the most pranks? - Neither, I guess? If I had to pick one I’d go with Furihata, although I wouldn’t put it past Akashi to try and outdo him. 
How I Learned to Love Crossovers

No, not really. Still not a big fan. But if they could all be done like this crossover (threaded together into one big movie… not the Nazi thing), then I’d be more in favor. For the first time in… ever? I enjoyed a crossover. It’s a Christmas miracle. 

Night two of “Crisis on Earth X” was just as good as the first but for very different reasons. Where night one brought the fluff and the heartache, night two brought action, stakes and emotion. All throughout we had such great character movement from all the shows. And considering I don’t give two craps about Supergirl or Flash, the fact that I could watch, get the gist of what was going on and then FEEL for those characters? Spoke volumes. So kudos to everyone involved. 

Yeah, the Nazis were terrible. Could have gone with any similar type regime and been loads less offensive but comics. That said, it really helped me LOATHE the bad guys. Like… I was not sad to see them all die. At all. Absolutely grotesque. 

Stein made me weep. I knew he was going to die and I still cried my eyes out over him. I still wish he hadn’t had to die… there were other ways to handle that without killing him (and me) but… I can’t say Victor Garber didn’t absolutely OWN those scenes. My heart was wrenched. 

But the highlight of everything for me was, predictably, OLICITY. Their journey over the course of two nights from couple in love to couple facing a real issue regarding their separate life goals to couple just happy to be together to MARRIED… was so on point. It was everything I could have hoped for. Oliver learned, quite poignantly, that loving Felicity is what has helped make him the honorable, heroic man he is today. 

Felicity, meanwhile, was kicking butt with Iris back at Star Labs. Honestly, I’m so proud of those two. They had to be terrified, but they thought things through and worked together and really saved the day in the end. The scene where Felicity stood in front of the weakened Kara to protect her from “Oliver in the High Castle” (I loved that line btw) was one of my faves of the whole crossover. Anyhow, I loved Felicity and Iris together and would love to see about 500% more of that in the future. 

The wedding was exactly what I was expecting, actually. Westallen’s vows were so sweet. I’m glad Oliver and Felicity didn’t try to top them (and they didn’t need to…they had their own epic vows already in 4x16). And no, I don’t think Barry or Iris minded Felicity and Oliver joining in. There’s a whole laundry list of reasons why it wasn’t a problem but let’s just leave it at there not even BEING an impromptu wedding in the park if Felicity hadn’t suggested Dig. So there’s that. 

MY BABIES ARE MARRIED. I’M SUPER LIT ABOUT IT. I haven’t been able to do anything remotely productive all day because of it. Okay, that’s not the ONLY reason, but man, focusing on the things I need to do has been super problematic. I’m sure I’m not the only one. 

Anyhow, that’s the short of it. There’ll be more posted over on Just About Write here in a day or two (and I’ll post the link when it’s up). In the meantime I gotta go get ready for HVFF SJ this weekend! I have a great idea for a photo op with our newly married couple! 

Roller coaster [BTS Jimin Fic]

COUNT → 3169

GENRE → Fluff

PAIRING → You and Jimin

SUMMARY: You are really excited to finally ride the newest rollercoaster of your favorite theme park, but when your friends refuse to get in you have to join seven stranger guys, and sit next to a pink haired guy who looks extremly scared.

N/A: Basically this is inspired by a real life experience I had this summer, althoug I wish the guy was Jimin. If people like i could make a second part, but it’s a drabble for now. 

The summer was coming to an end and you hated every single second that went by. Just a couple more of weeks and you’ll be back in college, which could’ve been worse, you weren’t in high school anymore and that was a win in your book, but still, knowing that you were going back to classes, and deadlines and your-not-so-friendly classmates was torturing you. You time was getting over but you wanted to say goodbye at summer with one last experience, and what best than spend a whole day in your favorite theme park with your favorite friends?

To be honest, you had spent most of the vacations with your favorite girls, but each one of you went to different colleges and you felt the need to have as many experiences with them before stop seeing them for the next months. You already went to the beach, and skating, you spent a weekend camping and even a whole Friday in a spa, a real spa. Parties weren’t your thing, but you end up going to quite a few of them to join your friends, you hook up with a guy, you got drunk, you danced and overall had fun. Now it was time to a last activity, and you loved themes parks.

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anonymous asked:

What would you say for writers from the western fandom on how to write the matsu's more realistically and accurate?

Honestly, that’s highly dependent on the fic in question and what themes/subjects it deals with. I want to emphasize that this advice is just for those people who do want to push their writing/characterization just that one step further and that I understand not everyone has the time or energy to invest in dense cultural learning just for the sake of some fun fanfiction.

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CLF: A la Folie (F)

A/N: LOOK AT MY PRETTY BIRTHDAY FANART! It’s actually not my birthday for a week, but Lucy (@thecrownedrose) was too excited and couldn’t wait to give it to me. YAY!

Warnings: Sad letter, swearing, SMUT. DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18.



TRACK: Cold by Aqualung. (Especially during the smut)

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anonymous asked:

Hi! For the request thing, can you please write a really angsty hurt comfort sick fic with a happy ending? Maybe friends to lovers. Preferable if Phil is the one going through most of the hurt and being comforted but doesn't necessarily have to focus on one person. Either this or a Hogwarts au with insecure but talented Hufflepuff Phil and very kind and loving Slytherin Dan?

Itching with Jealousy (The Chicken Pox Fic)

Read on Ao3

Summary: Dan and Phil go to LA to spend some time with their good friend Anthony. But what happens when Phil’s bad luck gets him sick and he has to listen to the love of his life fall for another guy?
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Smut
Word Count: 13,840
Reading Time: 00:51:07
Disclaimer: Characters are works of fiction and no copyright infringement is intended. I do not own Dan or Phil and as far as I know, this never happened.

( I’m hoping this is what you wanted, Anonymous! I got a little carried away with the angst and it got a little long. Sorry bout that my fwends. <3 )

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Wouldn’t it be great…

If Frank Ocean did this fandom a favour and tweeted/blogged something along the lines of, “I wish Armie Hammer and Tim Chalamet were a couple in real life. They have such crazy chemistry!” And then Timmy would be like, “Your wish is my command m'lord!”

Originally posted by biscuitsarenice

Behind The Story – Pt. 7

Summary: The reader is Jensen’s girlfriend (fiancé) and also a cast member of the show. What happens after that blackout?

Author: deanwinchester-af

Characters: Jensen, Reader, Jared and Cast Cameos.

Pairings: Single!Jensen x Actress!Reader

Words: 2.2k+

Warnings: Angst & Fluff.


Beta: @lovin-ackles ♥ (y’all have to thank her, she beta so fast and great!)

A/N: No more waiting… Here’s what happened before the reader’s balck out. Hope y’all enjoy!

Let me know what you think?


Behind The Story Masterlist

The atmosphere was turned into slow motion as Jensen watched you drop to the floor. Jensen’s arms reached out for you, intending to hold your body from the fall but gravity wasn’t his best ally. Jensen dropped to his knees next to you, calling your name several times hoping for any sign of consciousness, and his heart rate increased with every second that passed without having a response from you.

“Somebody call 911!” Jensen begged for some help.

Jensen’s eyes lurked around to see if someone was doing something, then he glanced at Jared who was worried and already calling for some help. Jensen looked down at you, keeping your body close to his, finding it difficult to control his shaking hands.

“She’s pregnant!” Jared yelled.

Jensen looked up to see more people talking but he couldn’t hear a word, his complete focus was on Jared’s conversation.

Jared sighed deeply running a hand through his hair, “What’s the nearest hospital?” he nodded, “Got it.” With that he hung up and dialed up another number.

“What’s taking so long?!” Jensen yelled.

“Nobody is answering!” Jared stressed.

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In the absence of you.


Iris stared down at the offensive mark on the stick and felt frustration and anger well up in her instead of the usual familiar overwhelming despair.

She was pushing her luck, and she knew it. Well over a month had passed since she and Barry had last had sex. His absence in her life left her aching with no apparent relief in sight. Holding onto memories, reminding herself she should be grateful for the time they did have together, and plunging ahead with her job and assisting her brother as the new Flash of the city didn’t fill the hole she felt growing deeper inside her. She knew it would never.

She needed Barry. She missed him desperately. His arms around her, his kiss on her lips, his body wrapped around her while they lay quietly sleeping in bed, his whispers of I love you’s murmured her ear, the tickle of his breath on her neck. She missed all of it. She wore his shirt to bed every night. She never washed it. She knew she’d have to eventually. It hardly smelled of him anymore. Just her and the cold sweats she woke up with when the nightmares became too real, the memory of that night.

Her last hope was the possibility of their child growing inside her. Because then at least she’d have a piece of him. A piece of her Barry to carry with her all the days of the rest of her life.

She’d tested herself every day for the last couple weeks and come up negative every time. The cramps she’d woken up with that morning made her hopelessly wish they were a sign of vomiting to come, but deep down she knew better.

She was late. She wasn’t pregnant. In a few days or maybe even later today, there would be proof of that.

She clenched her fist, dropped the stick into the trash, and not for the first time cursed her every reminder to Barry that despite being on birth control, they should use condoms too. Just to be safe.

Just to be safe, she mocked her past self scathingly.

They were always so desperate for each other, but they never were unsafe. Except that once. But that was months ago. And quite obviously, she hadn’t been pregnant.

Her anger dissolved as the tears ran down her cheeks and she rubbed her hand over her flat belly.

“I just want a little piece of you, Bear.”

She went and sat on the closed toilet, ran a hand through her hair and propped her elbow on the counter.

“Just one little piece of you to get me through the rest of my life.”

Secret Santa Gift Fic III

This is @thevanishedillusion‘s secret santa gift. You gave a very detailed prompt and I’m afraid this isn’t exactly what you asked for. Once I started, the character developed on its own. But I still tried to stay close to the initial premise and I hope you’ll like it anyways! Have fun and merry Christmas! :)

Fair warning: this is only the second time in my entire life that I write in second person. I did my best but it’s still a perspective I’m unfamiliar with. Also this fic contains references to character death, mental health issues, trauma and PTSD (all in references to events happening in Iron Man 1). The prompt is at the end of the fic. 

“I love you. Isn’t that just the saddest thing?” 
–Quote from Elementary, S03E12

Unrequited love sucks. It sounds like a no-brainer. Something so obvious it should slap you in the face the first time it comes up in casual conversation—but it doesn’t. And sure, on an intellectual level, you’ve always known it. You’ve understood that the ‘unrequited’ is just a shorter way to say ‘no happy ending available’. You’re aware it means someone doesn’t get what they so desperately want, whom they so desperately want. But that doesn’t mean you’ve been prepared for the reality of it.

The truth is, it doesn’t just suck. It’s a bit like a sucker punch every time you see them smile—even, especially, when that smile is for someone other than you. It’s like slapping yourself over the back of the head over and over again, yet still misspelling that one word when the time for the spelling bee comes. In your case, that word was ‘misanthrope’. You always forgot the ‘h’, no matter how often your mom reminded you. No matter how often your best friend helped you practice, despite how much he hated sitting still and waiting for you to remember all the letters.

You still got it wrong when it mattered. You still didn’t duck fast enough to avoid that damn bullet that got you discharged from the closest thing you had to a home for good. And you still didn’t get the guy at the end of the story.

It sounds like the start of a Bridget Jones movie—or at least you hope so, because if your prince charming isn’t waiting right around the corner, your memoirs will make for one heck of a depressing story.

And, wow, talk about throwing yourself a pity party.

[continues under the cut]

Another truth—one you don’t care to acknowledge too often lately—is that life isn’t as bad as you make it out to be. Sure, you almost died in a bloody—in every sense of the word—terrorist attack a couple of months ago. And yeah, the first months after said attack made you wish you hadn’t made it.

But you’ve gotten past that now. For the most part. You’ve built yourself a new life, a civilian life—and who’d have thought you were capable of adjusting to it so fast, certainly not you—and it’s not what you’re accustomed to, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing.

You’ve got a real home now. A small flat, three rooms only, which drives your best friend up the wall every time he visits, but it’s all the space you need. Tony, of course, isn’t too happy with that explanation. He’s still pushing you, as much as he dares to anyways, to move into his tower—but so far you’ve held your own. Decades of prolonged exposure are probably the only reason you’ve managed to accomplish that particular feat. That and the trauma that you’re half-ashamed to admit you’ve used as an excuse more than once.

It’s what you need though. Your own space, away from Tony Stark and his larger than life personality, away from the papers and reporters, away from JARVIS’ all-seeing eyes, away from his beautiful assistant slash girlfriend.

Jesus, you’re starting to sound like a scorned ex again, you realise, and force yourself to push those bitter thoughts away. It’s not fair to Pepper Potts, the woman who’s managed to capture Tony’s heart after all these years. Nor is it fair to Tony himself, for that matter.

It’s not like you’ve ever had any sort of claim on him. And Tony never promised you anything, never tried to initiate something that went beyond the friendship you’ve both worked so hard to hold on to. In some ways, that actually makes it worse. Because you have no right to feel like you’ve been cast away—not when Tony keeps inviting you over for dinner like clock-work every week, not when Pepper always greets you with an honest smile, not when there’s been a floor with your name on it in Tony’s tower since long before he’s started to build it—you know that.

Tony hasn’t abandoned you. He hasn’t thrown nearly three decades of friendship away because of a woman, even one as brilliant as Pepper. That’s not the kind of man he is.

Unfortunately, none of those nice, rational facts change how you feel.

And that’s not even starting on the stomach-clenching sensation you feel every time you watch those small, but oh-so-telling affectionate gestures between them. The ones that tell you more than words ever could that Tony and Pepper aren’t eccentric boss and exasperated assistant any longer. They’re a real life, official couple.

As his best friend, you should be happy for Tony. For the happiness in his eyes, the way they glimmer when he looks at her. The fact that you can’t manage more than a tense, half-hearted smile makes you feel like the lowest scum on earth, which is why you spend a lot of time decidedly not thinking about it at all.

Sadly, avoidance only gets you so far in life. And when someone like Tony Stark is involved, that ‘so far’ isn’t very far at all. You love that dork to death, but if there is one thing Tony can’t do, it’s to let things go. He always has to pick and pick at them, until you get annoyed and lash out. Something that’s been happening more and more often lately.

It would be wrong to say that your friendship with Tony has started to fall apart ever since he confessed to being in love with Pepper. You like to think you’re not that petty, though as things currently stand you’ll never know.

Right now it’s not Pepper, who’s standing between you and Tony—or at least she isn’t the only one. There’s a whole immeasurably huge black hole titled ‘Afghanistan’ as well. And unlike Pepper, it’s not something you can throw a quick smile and apologetic last-minute cancellation at.

Afghanistan compiles all of your worst nightmares, your greatest terrors, your most horrible memories into one single word. As though anything human languages have created could adequately express what happened. What you lost. What you survived.

You’ve never talked about it, never even acknowledged it. There hasn’t been any time. Ever since Tony blew up the terrorists that held him hostage—and it should make you proud, relieved at the very least, that your civilian friend with no training managed such a feat, but all it really does is remind you that all the trained soldiers, that you, didn’t—life has been a whirlwind that shows no signs of slowing down.

But for you the world stopped turning four months ago. You lost your entire unit four months ago. You went to sleep every night with your best friend’s screams ringing in your ears for months every night since.

Of course the second Tony set foot on American soil again, he did what he’s always done: he evolved. He’s turned his company around, he’s asked Pepper out, he’s turned himself into a freaking superhero. He fought for his life on the rooftops of New York while you were trying to make it through a night without waking up shaking and screaming.

Somehow Tony has taken the trauma of those three months and compressed them into something that drives him forward—and you hate him for it, just a little, as much as you’re trying not to, because all you seem to be able to do is slow down.

Tony tries to help you, it’s not like he’s blind to your issues. Not like you could keep it from him either. But this—in this he can’t help you. You can’t let him. It’s ironic in a way: Tony is the only other survivor, the only one who was there when your world blew up around you. He was there, he’s the one best equipped to understand what you’re going through. And instead of helping you, instead of making things easier, it makes everything so much worse.

It’s why you’re here now. Standing in front of a bright building, just twenty minutes away from your home, unable to bring yourself to enter, yet unable to walk away.

Well, technically it’s Pepper’s fault—another thing you try very hard not to be bitter about. Because Pepper is smart, yes, but she’s also attentive in a way Tony has never had the patience to be, and it scares you sometimes. The way she looks at you, like she understands. Like she knows.

You met her for coffee three days ago, after months of avoiding her. Her words, pointed but gentle, like the warmth in her eyes could soothe the sting, have been haunting you ever since.

Tony is your friend, nothing will ever change that. But he can’t be your therapist. He can’t heal you, much as it pains him, and it’s not fair of you to expect him to.

You’d snapped at her, affronted, embarrassed or maybe just plain furious, and Pepper had apologised—I’m sorry, it wasn’t my place—but she never took those words back. You don’t think she could have, even if she wanted to.

The worst part, that’s about the only thing you’re currently sure of, is that she might just be right. Pepper has an annoying habit of doing that. Of getting under your skin, cutting straight through your bullshit to the heart of the matter. It’s moments like these when you realise what Tony sees in her.

And it’s because of that nagging fear, that worry Pepper has awoken in you, that you’re here now, trying to work up the courage to enter the ordinary, unthreatening looking office building. Half the time you’re convinced that this is a stupid, pointless endeavour, but even if a session with one of New York’s leading trauma therapists isn’t going to change your world—an outside view might help you get some perspective on the mess your life has turned into. Might help you sleep through the night without second-guessing your entire relationship with Tony, at least.

It still takes you another week to work up the courage and actually schedule an appointment.


The first time you met Tony, you were six and he was seven and the two of you were at a charity gala of some sort, bored out of your minds. You got into an argument that devolved into a hair-pulling fight, because you were taller than him and therefore insisted on calling him a baby. After your parents separated you—and you got a scolding that made you cry, you still remember that one—Tony defended you and you’d been inseparable ever since.

Sure, eventually you were forced apart by the realities of the different lives you lived. Tony joined SI straight out of college, as was expected, and he loved it like you knew he would. You, on the other hand, went against expectations and joined the military. But even though you spent less time together, the two of you remained close friends.

Looking back you can’t even tell when exactly your feelings for Tony changed. It wasn’t love at first sight or any of those other ridiculously romantic notions though, that’s for sure. You don’t think there is a precise moment where it happened either. More of a gradual process maybe. Tony has been your closest confidant for so many years that you haven’t been able to imagine a life without him in a long time—yet, thanks in no small parts to your career choice, a serious relationship has never been an option you’ve considered.

You’re honest enough with yourself to acknowledge that you only admitted to yourself how you truly feel after Tony became unavailable. Maybe you’re just that much of a selfish bitch—or maybe it was yet another attempt to sabotage the most meaningful relationship you have left.

That’s one of the questions that pains you the most. And it’s also one Meredith—your counsellor—has been unable to answer for you. You can almost hear her amused laugh at that thought. ‘I can’t give you any answers. The best I can do is help you discover them for yourself,’ is what she would probably say if she could hear you right now—and you don’t know whether it’s a good thing or not that you know that.

You don’t know a lot of things, these days.


The sessions help. It doesn’t feel that way at first—still doesn’t, on your off-days. In the beginning, you barely had anything to say to Meredith. Everything just seemed—too much, too big to be put into words. But it’s getting easier—not easy, mind you, you doubt it ever will be—to talk now. Even though you sometimes describe the same event four times. It gets easier to find the words, to put them to use. To work through what happened and how you feel about it.

It’s not always a flattering realisation, and certainly there are thoughts that have never made it past your lips, have never left the privacy of your own mind. But there are things you can share, and those lose some of their weight over time. A progress so slow you don’t notice it until three months have passed and the dinner invitation Tony sends you no longer invokes that crushing sense of despair-disgust-hate-want-confusion-fear it used to.

You still decline but you’re working on not hating yourself for it. ‘Your recovery comes first,’ you repeat to yourself, words Meredith uses all the time. ‘Take whatever measures you need to feel safe and comfortable.’ They used to be nothing but a string of meaningless words, but lately you’ve found yourself clinging to them, seeking comfort in them.

Lately you’ve forced yourself to admit that for all that you love Tony, for all that he means the world to you—whenever you look at him, gun fire is tearing your eardrums apart, and whenever he smiles, you feel that terrible mixture of resentment-self-disgust-affection cracking you open from the inside out.

You love Tony. Maybe you always have. But right now, you need him out of your life. Right now, all he does—if unknowingly and unintentionally—is pull you down, down, down, chains you to the worst days of your entire life. And there are still doubts creeping up on you sometimes, but you’re starting to realise that that’s okay.

You’re starting to realise that when Meredith says you’ve come a long way, she means it.


The first time Meredith suggests going to a group meeting, you almost walk straight out of her office again. ‘There are groups specifically for veterans suffering from PTSD,’ Meredith’s calm voice says over the roar in your ears. ‘People with similar experiences. People you might connect to and from who’s own experiences and support you might benefit.

You’re aware that what Meredith is really trying to say is, you are not alone. And you hate that you’re so freaking self-centred still, but in that moment those words don’t bring you the comfort they are supposed to. Instead all you hear is ‘you are not that special’ and despite knowing better, despite everything, it hurts.

That night, Tony calls you for the first time in over two weeks. That night, you take a deep breath that does nothing to lessen the tight feeling in your chest, and press Ignore.

You read about a fight at Tony’s birthday party in the newspapers the next day, and are too ashamed to call him back. Ashamed because you didn’t answer your cell. Ashamed because you forgot about his birthday entirely.


At first, the group meetings are torture. You don’t even know why you attend your first one. Meredith brings them up on occasion, but she never outright tells you to go—“You’re a grown woman, you can make your own decisions.”—and yet there you are.

You don’t say a word that first time, barely manage to look anyone in the eyes. You feel uncomfortable, out of place, put on a spot even though nobody is approaching you either. No surprise, given the very clear leave-me-alone vibes you’re sending out.

You come back the following week though, and the week after that, even though you’re not quite sure why. You start to recognise the faces, start to remember the names they give. Start to feel like a part of the crowd. When you speak up for the first time, it feels like a huge step that has your heart racing and nervous sweat running down your back. When you speak up for the second time, it’s a giant fuck-you to your own, scary-cat self.

After that, you do it more often. You share more. You stay behind after the meetings end a couple of times, exchange short conversations with other attendees. You get to know the regulars, start recognising first timers like you used to be.

You don’t think these meetings are supposed to help when you don’t even believe in them, but somehow it sneaks up on you. The dawning realisation that nobody went exactly through what you suffered, but there are many people out there who went through something similar, many people who might not know but can still understand.

Not being special doesn’t sound as bad as it used to.


You don’t find out how close you’ve come to losing Tony forever until long after the drama has died down. Pepper mentions it in passing one day, during your bi-monthly lunches together that you’ve started picking up again recently. You’re still working up the courage to face Tony again, when she drops a comment about the poison and his almost-death.

That night you wake up screaming for the first time in twenty-two days. The worst part is that even now you know you’ve made the right choice when you cut him out of your life.


It’s Tony who calls you, just like it’s always been Tony reaching out and you blocking him off since Afghanistan. That word has started to lose some of that shadow it used to cast over you, gets easier to think these days.

That’s one of the many, many reasons why you answer when he calls you this time.

“Are you watching TV?” is the first thing your best friend asks you, and it’s simultaneously the most inane and most Tony thing he could have said.

There’s an almost laugh forcing its way out of your throat, and in that moment it’s like you’ve never been apart. Like Afghanistan never happened, like you’re still twenty-two and giggling on your smelly couch in your crappy college room. “No,” you reply and hope he can hear the I’m so sorry you’re not quite ready to voice yet.

“Good.” Tony’s voice is rough, and because you’ve known him all your life, you don’t have to ask whether something is wrong. You already know.

“What’s going on?” you ask, but he interrupts you before you’ve even finished the question.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and those are the last words you’ve expected to hear, “I’m so, so sorry I couldn’t protect you. I’m—this is—listen, just, things got a little out of hand and I’m kind of on a timer, just—damn, I wish I’d called you sooner.” Tony laughs and it’s not a happy sound.

There’s an urgency in his voice you’ve heard only once before and it punches the air out of your lungs like you’ve taken a hit to the stomach. “I never blamed you,” you say, don’t even know where the words are coming from—except, that’s not quite true, is it? You’ve been thinking them since you first woke up in that hospital to the shuttered look in Tony’s eyes, have swallowed them down ever since. Because back then it wasn’t true and Tony would have known. You don’t know when you started to believe them, but now you do, and you want, need him to know that. “For anything. It wasn’t your fault, Tony. You had no control over what happened. And saving me was never your responsibility.”

Tony makes a strange sound then, an almost pained keen you don’t know how to interpret, and when he speaks again he sounds like he’s in a hurry. “Watch your back, baby,” he breathes, the childhood nickname back from your first meeting falling as easily from his lips as it always did, “you’ve always done the best job at that, never needed anyone’s help with it. Just—do one thing for me, alright? Don’t turn on the TV.”

The line goes dead before you can get another word out.

You call Tony back immediately, but it goes straight to voicemail. Call him again as you cross your kitchen and walk into the living room. Again as you switch on the TV. And again. And again.

“I’m sorry, Tony.” Your voice is shaking and you think you’re crying, but you can’t take your eyes off the screen long enough to check. “I’m so, so sorry. I couldn’t handle it, any of it. Afghanistan broke me—I let it break me, and I know you tried to help, that’s what you always do, but I couldn’t let you. Be-Because you made it out. Seeing you, all it ever did was remind me that you did what I couldn’t, that you were stronger than I was, that you were handling things better than I was, and it hurt. It hurt so much and I felt so useless. And-and after everything that happened in that c-cave, all that time I was completely useless, and when I finally got out I still was! I couldn’t take that—I—“

Your voice breaks, maybe you’re sobbing or maybe you’ve run out of air, but you can’t stop now. Just like you couldn’t stop acknowledging that you love Tony the moment you couldn’t have him, because that’s just your thing, isn’t it?

“I’m working on it. I’m getting better and I’m sorry for locking you out, I’m sorry for pushing you away without an explanation because you deserved one. I’m sorry for expecting you to put all the work into our friendship, expecting you to reach out and support me and hold me up. I should have thought about how difficult things were for you as well, but I just couldn’t focus on anything but me—and I can’t undo that now, but I wish I had at least told you.

“You know what the worst part is?” you ask hoarsely as you watch Tony—Iron Man—your whole world—fall out of the sky in slow-motion, “I love you. Isn’t that just the saddest thing?”


It takes you three weeks to get up the courage to drive to the Stark Tower. When you step out of the elevator, Tony is there, dressed in an old MIT sweatshirt and loose pants, and you pull him into a hug before you can stop yourself. You don’t want to stop yourself.

And you don’t have everything figured out yet—you aren’t twenty-two any more and you threw that smelly couch out a long time ago, you still wake up screaming every so often, you still go to meetings, and you still see Meredith, and Tony and Pepper are in some sort of limbo you haven’t dared to ask about—but Tony hugs you back without hesitation.

You’re best friends, first and foremost, and for the first time in a long while you believe that that means something. You believe that it means everything. You believe that the two of you will figure it out in your own time.

@thevanishedillusion asked for a Fem!ReaderxTony Stark story set in Iron Man 1, who’s been best friends since their early childhood and who was with him in Afghanistan. Also unrequited love on her part. Not to say that it’ll stay unrequited, Tony definitely loves her, but I didn’t want to make the jump from Pepper to her too quick–it would have only made his feelings seem less genuine. Again, I took lots of liberties with your prompt but I still hope you enjoyed my take on your concept :)

One last time, merry Christmas to everyone who celebrates it and a happy Sunday to everyone who doesn’t!

I had a dream last night that Mattel rebooted Life in the Dreamhouse and the core characters now also included Allan and Blaine (as a couple), Derek (who was man bun Ken), Steven and Kira.

Allan and Midge were siblings. Allan and Ken were still bffs. The backgrounders were random Barbie dolls from the past. I kinda wished it were real…

The Consequences of Making Choices (Part 1?)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader, Avengers x Reader, Tony x Niece!/Nephew!Reader, 

Word Count: 2580

Summary: You are marching into the Civil War as Tony’s proud niece/nephew, ready to put an end to the conflict that is breaking apart your only real family. But as the battle begins to unfold, you begin to question whose side you’re really on.

You had always wanted your super suit, and thankfully it seemed like that birthday present came early. Your life had always been sheltered, had always been well tended too. That’s how it was being a multi millionaire, with no real say in what you were allowed to say or do. This was it. This was your shot. As the nephew/niece of Tony Stark, you had dreamed that one day you’d be able to fight alongside your uncle. It looked like today that wish was coming true.

“You’ll of course need to go through a couple training lessons, before you fight,” you remember your uncle’s voice as he unveiled the suit. “Rhodes can take of that—”

You don’t remember the rest of his speech. It was all erased by the joyous thought that you were finally allowed to make a difference. From the moment you laid your eyes upon the glistening suit, you knew your life was about to change. Everything about it was magnificent, everything from the complex mechanics that allowed for your sightline to double all the way down to the fact that it was your favorite color. Tony was going to have to get his ears checked after all of your squealing.

Now, you were here. Flying alongside your friends, a few of which you considered family, ready to serve your own justice. If only those whom you had to fight, hadn’t also been your family as well. Your hard E/C eyes drifted over your old friends, and for a brief moment, you felt as if your heart would shatter. All though you didn’t recognize one of them, the rest of team Captain America you knew well. Sam had cheered you up whenever your days became rainy. Hawkeye was almost as much of an uncle to you as Stark had been, if not maybe even more. Wanda was your sister; there was no doubt she still is. Steve had filled the empty older brother figure that was left behind by a burning car. It was soul crushing to see them, your family, all lined up for some man who you’d been told was a murderer. A monster.

You sighed as you watched them pick up pace, jogging ahead in hopes of reaching the jet. You couldn’t lose to focus. Not now. This was your shot at a life outside of sheltered protection, you weren’t going to throw that away. Whether they were family or not.

“They’re not stopping,” it was the boy, Spiderman, who said it. Yes, the battalion of your enemies was not slowing down. You looked to your uncle, but he had already flown far past you.

“Neither are we.”

Slowly your team picked up pace, breaking into a mad sprint to greet the enemy. So this was it, you mused to yourself, trying to spot someone to fight. Very well, let it be.

You swerved to the right as one of Clint’s arrows zipped past you, sailing directly towards Vision. The android conjured his own shield, taking Hawkeye’s shot straight on. Below, you gasped as you watched Wanda send the young spider boy flying, knocked out from a blast of energy. Quickly you dived down, zipping past the action to help the young kid up. “Thanks,” he softly muttered, as he sailed down towards the cars Wanda had begun to throw.

Your goal was simple; you were to help anyone who needed help, and at all costs prevent Captain America and Bucky from escaping.

Another arrow whizzed past your ear, and you sprung into action. “Neutralize,” you commanded, outstretching your hand as a bolt of energy went flying. With a swift swipe your blast disintegrated the arrow, stopping inches away from a brawling Tony and Steve. For a brief second, you swore you saw your uncle smile, that was before Steve socked him in the face.

Again without a partner to spar with, you looked down to see if Hawkeye had somehow been able to lose Vision. He had, but was now involved in a match with Natasha. “We’re still friends right?” you heard Nat banter, and you couldn’t stop a slight grin from inching across your face.

Hawkeye also let a smile slip, “Depends on how hard you hit me.”

You flew away from their little brawl, sure that Natasha would be able to easily handle Clint. If anything, you thought, you should probably be helping that new kid, or even see if you could help Rhodes out fly Sam. You surveyed the field quickly, trying to figure out where you could be most useful. Before you could blast off, however, you were stopped by the sound of grunts below you.

“I didn’t kill your father!” you quickly recognized this man as Bucky. This was the crack that had shattered your only family, had torn them apart. The murderer. The monster. Surveying the field one more time, you decided against your better judgement. You didn’t care that T’challa had called dibs, you wanted a punch in yourself.

“Activate stealth mode,” you commanded softly, and your suit did just that. With now silent jets it was easy to hover down closer, getting a better look at the fight.

T’challa spat at the man, easily overpowering his arm, “Then why did you run?”

You watched as Bucky went for a punch, stopped quickly by Black Panther’s grip. The two fell into a roll, fighting tooth and nail to get the upper hand. Before you could prevent any real chaos, Wanda seemed to beat you to it. She flew T’challa back, slamming him into a jetway. You quickly reactivated your thrusters, an annoyed rumble jumping into your throat.

You awaited for Wanda to turn her back, patiently waiting for the Winter Soldier to stand. And when he did, you made your move. Metal on metal screeched as you torpedoed into his chest, using your new strength to hold back his metal arm. The man let out a grunt as he fell back into the concrete, tumbling to the ground. A fire roared in your chest, your eyes sharpened into daggers.

As he went to stand up, you aimed again, this time making sure not to pull your punch. He was ready though, catching your metal fist as if it was simply a baseball. He glared at you sharply, wrenching your arm around as you smacked into the ground. Despite the hard hit your face took, you lept back up with little time to spare. This was your chance, you weren’t going to waste it.

“Why are you making this so difficult?” you snarled at him, rolling your shoulders forward, “You know what you’ve done.”

Bucky barred his teeth, taking a step forward, “And I have to live with that every day. I know everything I did. But that’s in the past. I don’t even remember that part of me. It’s dead.” With a grunt he wound up his fist, springing forward. You easily dodged the shot, grabbing hold of his free arm.

With a flip you rolled the man to the ground, gritting your teeth, “The past is never dead. It’s not even past.”

Jolting up, Bucky leapt forward, his fist connecting harshly with your jaw. You stumbled back, your head reeling with agony. “William Faulkner,” Bucky spat at you, shaking off his fist, “He was one of the few authors I was able to stand as a kid. How fitting.”

You let out a shriek of sorts, ducking under his next blow, “You are the reason my family is being torn apart!” Before Bucky could even blink, you shot up from your crouch, jamming your head hard into his throat. Taking no chances, you quickly swept your legs under his feet, allowing for him to stammer back. “In my eyes, you are really the only one at fault here.”

“What kind of story is Tony selling you, doll?” Bucky snapped back, his eyes quickly darkening, “I didn’t do anything!”

“Really? Then why are you fighting!” you hissed at him, bringing your leg back for a sharp kick to the nose. Bucky, however, anticipated this, and instead caught your foot mid air. With a flick he easily slammed you down into the ground.

“Don’t you get it?” he growled at you as you tried to stand back up, ignoring your groans, “We’re trying to do the right the thing here! Do you even know what you’re fighting for?”

“I— I know you’re wrong!” all though not your best comeback, it was all that you really had. Furiously you locked gazes with the man, your jaw clenching. His opaque green eyes flashed for a moment, connecting the dots quite simply.

“You don’t know what you’re fighting for,” he had you trapped, “Do you?”

You gritted your teeth, breaking into the most deadly scowl. Here you were, locked in battle, neither of you needing to lay another hand on the other. Despite the roaring from the war next to you, it had seemed as the world had gotten awfully quiet. Silent. Deadly silent.

“No,” you snarled out, a little bit louder then you wished you had, “All I know is we’re the good guys, and you are the bad guys.”

“I hate to break it to you, doll,” Bucky cocked his head towards the battle, an almost growl in his throat, “But that’s not how it is this time.”

A lump began to form in your throat, as you tried to search for the right words to say. Anything really, but no matter how hard you tried nothing seem to come to mind. Why were you fighting your uncle’s fights if you didn’t even know the reason? Were these just more commands you were blindly going to follow? More rules that your uncle had set out for you?

Unbeknownst to you, a slight smirk had slithered across Bucky’s face as he watched you search for an answer. When your eyes did catch note of this, you let out a deep growl. Quickly you smacked that grin off of him, easily socking him in the jaw. He stumbled back, realizing exactly where he was again. With clenched fists he looked to you, ready to engage in another attack.

He didn’t get a chance.

With only a gut instinct to guide you, you tried not to think too hard about the crazy move you were about to commit. Bucky watched as the mask surrounding your face went off, surprised to be met with two, innocent E/C eyes. “Why are you fighting,” you said the words very slowly, scanning over him in case of attack.

Bucky coughed, a bit taken back by the sudden trust you were bestowing to him. He looked up and down your face, trying to sense some sort of trickery that you had to be using. Some sort of trap. As he stared, however, he found none. “There are other soldiers, like me,” he couldn’t believe he was actually talking to you in the middle of a fight, “If…. If Zemo gets to Siberia before us, he will have one of Hydra’s most dangerous weapons in his hands. That’s why we’re fighting. We need to get to them before he does.”

“And we’re stopping you,” you flicked your gaze at him, “Because….?”

Bucky simply scoffed, his own eyes looking over your shoulder, “The government wants my arrest, and the others signed a deal with the government. They do what they tell them to. Didn’t Tony explain any of this to you, doll?”

You decided it was best not to answer his question. In truth, it made perfect sense. Just another set of rules you’d now have to obey. Even as a superhero, life had it’s limits.

But that didn’t mean you had to follow them.

You followed Bucky’s gaze over your shoulder, turning to see a reluctant Steve. You had no clue how long Captain America had been there, you didn’t really want to know. He stood a few feet back, hidden behind the jet way that was shielding you from the rest of the battle. As you took a step forward, you noticed his jaw was clenched. He didn’t want to fight you, but you very well knew he would. That was the one thing you always admired about your almost-older-brother, his determination. Solemnly, you muted your speaker.

“Go on,” you reluctantly mused, reactivating your turbo jets to fly out of the way,“I won’t stop you.” The Winter Soldier’s eyes sharpened at this, carefully examining the situation. You met his glare with what little reassurance you could give him, again taking another step back. “I’ve spent my whole life following rules,” you softly mused, a dark grin creeping across your face, “When I finally thought I got my own choice, it turns out it was just another scheme to somehow use me as a pawn. But unlike my uncle, my pride’s not worth it. Now go.”

You weren’t exactly sure what emotion seemed to flash across Bucky’s eyes. In fact, the more you stared into them, the less you found you really knew. Your gaze danced over to Steve, Bucky let out a bemused sigh. “Thanks,” it almost sounded like a laugh, as if you two weren’t in the middle of a raging civil war, “Nice to know someone believes me.”

You watched as he sprinted over to Steve, taking shelter behind the jet way. With a somber smile, you looked over the raging battle, the tingling excitement nowhere to be found. “We gotta go,” you distantly heard Bucky say, “That guy’s probably in Siberia by now.”

“We gotta draw out the flyers,” you heard Steve chide back. The rest you tuned out as you clenched your eyes together. Nothing but the sound of your own heaving made it past your ears, as your now cold heart concocted a plan. Ever since you had been a child, this had been your life. You were a pawn, worthless in your own home. Even after your parents had died, the endless stream of webs never ceased. Tony Stark adopts orphaned niece/nephew. What a man in the eyes of the press. Well, this was the last time you’d be manipulated by someone you loved. The. Last. Time.

“Let me help,” your interjection seemingly came out of nowhere. With a swift yield you zoomed forward towards the two, trying not to draw attention to the hiding place. “Let me help.”

“I can’t do that, Y/N,” Steve lowered his shield as you flew over, but made sure to stay a bit on guard, “I’m sure you don’t even know what’s going on here.”

“I do now!” you stubbornly pleaded, “And I know I’m on the wrong side. This was just another trick, another public statement I’m being used for. Please, Steve. Let me help.”

You tried to pay little attention to Bucky as he narrowed his eyes, trying to piece together what aim you were playing. As his gaze perused over you, he couldn’t stop a tiny grin from crawling onto his face. In fact, you’d admit it was rather distracting, but you tried to shake the butterflies off as you awaited Steve’s answer. The man was caged in, unwilling to bring you into more drama but also needing the assistance. After giving a large sigh, he glanced once more over his shoulder before turning to you. “All right fine. You can come with us,” Steve reluctantly gave in, clenching his hand around his shield, “Let’s go.”

Love Written In Ink

Love Written In Ink: Picking up the Pieces (Chapter 1)

Link to Series

Summary: After breaking up with your boyfriend, you find yourself struggling to move on. But how can you, when both your lives are so intertwined? When a new captivating man enters your life, are the changes ahead for the better or worse?

Word Count: 4k+  

Rating: M (Smut)

A heavy sigh escaped your lips as you made your way up to the attic. The past couple of days had been so chaotic. It almost didn’t feel real, no matter how hard you tried to wrap your head around every overwhelming thing that happened. You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at your own misfortune. You even wished you could go back to the days where you were blissfully ignorant about your boyfriend’s infidelity.

As you reached the top of the unsteady stairs, you lightly kicked the already broken and flimsy door open.

“Hey, careful! What if it breaks?” A low voice scolded you from behind.

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anonymous asked:

S3 premieres in 🇩🇪 right now & before it "Prominent" (15min celebrity news show) shared some OL things at the end & guess what it was about. That the fans wish that S&C were a couple in real life, but that Sam made his relationship with MM official and that since then, poor MM is getting a lot of hate that even Sam had so say sth on SM, and with Cait they said that she is rather quite about her private life but is actually dating Tony (Brian?) since 2 years. I just had to laugh...😂

Oh my god 😂🙄🙄🙄🙄

hero, prologue.

Originally posted by mintsugakookies

summary: a problematic football player happens to be a little boy’s role model and main reason to not give up the fight for his own life - but he never intended to be a hero nor he’d act like one.
pairing: jimin x reader
word count: 589
content: football player!jimin.

⤿ prologue, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.

Y/N hated meetings. Always had, always will.

To share the same room with the most boring men you could ever know was the worst thing someone could ask her to do. What she hated of most was the fact that the only thing that kept her alive, her passion, her mission was just another business to them. But she knew that great part of keep on doing what she loves - writing - depended on those meetings and that’s why she still made some effort and swallowed the urge of running away from those suited men she hated so much.

After pressing the button that would take her to her real life nightmare, Y/N leaned against the wooden walls of the elevator. Her eyes closed while she imagined the safety of her room, writing stories she wished to see in real life. She could even feel the warm sensation of the peculiar winter her hometown had. And the birds that used to sing not too far from her window could also be heard. Even the yelling coming from some angry neighbours she had, mixed with the laughter of some teenagers that were just having fun around there.

Then his smile came to her mind. That, for sure, made Y/N feel at peace and home again.

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Whispers from the closet

Yesterday I asked you readers if you were closeted with your J2 beliefs and five people contacted me with their thoughts. Thank you all for indulging my curiosity! 

I’m really sorry to hear you lack like-minded friends! I suppose we’re quite a suspicious lot and a little hard to get to know. If you should want that to change, I’d recommend getting on twitter and boldly engaging our kind there. Some of us are very welcoming to new people while others take longer to warm up. I completely understand your concern with voicing your thoughts and disrespecting them in the process, but I think there is always a way to say what you want in a gentle manner. I wish you luck in your side blog adventure!

Heh, I’m not wearing a tinfoil hat in real life either. I’ve mentioned the thing to a couple of my friends, but there’s no real fun in discussing J2 with people who don’t even know who they are. One of my friends is a happy exception, though. She always wants the news when we meet and asks to see gifs I’ve made recently. Maybe you should bring all the evidence on the table and argue with your friend? I know I wouldn’t be convinced if I was told that person 1 and 2 were in a secret relationship if I couldn’t view the evidence myself.

I have to admit I have no idea what goes on in other fandoms. I’ve heard that tinhatting is something that’s popular in most fandoms, but that’s the extent of my knowledge. My apologies! This is the only pair that I believe in - I haven’t looked into any others.

I’m sorry to hear you’ve gotten lousy treatment from some of us. This fandom is gravely divided and I can understand why the two factions are cautious of each other. I wish it wasn’t that way, but the insults fly from both sides. Personally I don’t care what people ship as long as my tolerance is afforded back at me. As for the outing thing, nobody I’ve ever talked to has expressed the desire to out the J’s. We don’t possess that kind of power, either. You would be surprised if you knew how fiercely protective we are of them! :) 

I understand your concerns, anon, but there are so many ways you can express a thought. If you believe J2 are a couple, you don’t need to trash their beards in order to prove a point or to “fit in” with the rest of us. I’m not the most wife-friendly of all bloggers, but I believe in being reasonable in my critique. Most of my like-minded friends are the same - we don’t go on rants over the pettiest of reasons, but only say something when a legitimate concern is elicited. Criticizing the children (!?!?) is something completely out of the question for most of us. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that..? Anyway, it’s probably for the best if you never bring up your questions to J2 themselves. It’d be terrible behaviour to put them on their guard like that. 

What seems to be a common factor here is not wanting to be thought of as crazy. I’m not surprised, but I have to say that nobody has ever called me that during this year I’ve been blogging about them. It’s quite a surprise to me as well, come to think of it. I hope none of you lovely anons allow other people to measure your value for you. There is always someone out there that doesn’t appreciate what you’re doing, no matter what it is that you choose to do. Don’t let their criticism bring you down, but be yourself. 

That said, I understand your reasons and hope you realize that I’m not urging you to break out of your closets. Should you decide to do that one day, I’ll applaud you and welcome all your reasonable voices among our choir. However, reality doesn’t depend on our numbers, so you shouldn’t feel guilty of your closeted situations either. Thanks again for giving me something to think about and I hope you all have a very lovely weekend ahead of you!