with her thick russian accent

Battered and Bruised Ch. 2 (Bucky x reader)

So, here’s chapter two of my latest Bucky imagine. I’m going to work on putting a shortcut to chapter one, but for the meantime just search Battered and Bruised on my profile. I hope you all have a wonderful day and enjoy! :)

Description: Bucky sees all the damage he’s physically done to you because of what H.Y.D.R.A. did to his mind.

Warnings: Angst, violence

shortcut to chapter 1

After the sad confrontation between you and Bucky in the bathroom, you both laid in bed for the rest of the day.

“Baby?” You tilted your head up to look at him as you were laying on his chest. Your legs were tangled, his flesh arm was around your waist while his metal one was gently brushing through your hair.

“Hmm?” He responded softly, his body warm against yours, his heartbeat finally steady after sobbing for so long. He looked down at you, trying to give you a small smile.

“You know I love you, right? We’re going to get past this, it’s going to get better. And hell, I could care less if I get a million more bruises. I don’t care, because as long as I’m with you, I couldn’t be happier. Never forgot that, okay?” You brought a small smile to your lips, kissing his collarbone.

His trying smile faded. “And I love you just the same. All the more reason why it hurts me so much that I did this to you.” Tears began to well up in his eyes again. “I’m dangerous, F/N. If I hurt you again, who knows how much damage I could do.”

“I know it’s the nightmares, and I know how vivid they can be. You know I don’t blame you. It’s going to get better, you and me are going to get through this.” You snuggled up to him as close as possible.

He wanted to believe you, but there was so much fear bottled up inside of him. All he could think about were the worst case scenarios. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he seriously injured you. Bucky didn’t say anything after that, all he wanted to do was hold you as close as possible.

Neither of you got up from that bed for the rest of the day, hunger didn’t seem to reach either of you so you went on comforting Bucky, being the one person he knew would always be there.

You talked about everything. It was mostly about your relationship, how far you’ve come over the last 9 months, and all the great memories you had with him. After the many hours of laying together, talking, laughing, he finally lightened up.

“We haven’t moved from this bed since 10am.. and it’s 11:30pm.” You were giggling into his chest.

He joined in your laughter and rolled over so he was on top of you. He placed sweet kisses all over your exposed skin, earning the sound of you laughing, telling him to get off. He loved your laugh so much, it always made him crack a smile. The way your lips curled up and how your eyes sparkled sent him over the moon with adoration.

When he finally got off of you, you snuggled back into him. His steady heartbeat pulled you to sleep, leaving Bucky awake by himself.

“Goodnight my love.” He whispered into your hair before placing a gentle kiss on it.

He didn’t sleep that night, or the night after, or the night after. He was so afraid of hurting you, so afraid of what he was capable of. All he did was watch you sleep. He thought you looked so peaceful, so beautiful when you slept. He loved the way your eyes fluttered when you dreamed, but just when a smile was about to form on his face; thoughts of him doing you harm flooded his broken mind.

Silent tears would stream down his face as he held your sleeping body close to him. It went on like this for days. Every morning Bucky would wake up with even more tired eyes than the day before. You tried to coax him into getting sleep at night, but his fear was washing over him like a tidal wave.

“Baby, you can sleep. I trust you. I love you. I want you to be at peace.” It was a Saturday morning and Bucky looked exhausted. You were cupping his face in your hands, looking at him with the utmost concern.

“I won’t be at peace till I know I can fall asleep without having to worry about hurting you.” His face was hard, he was serious. You gave him a slight frown and pulled his face to yours, your lips contacting his soft ones. You kissed him sweetly when your phone rang. You annoyingly pulled away, Bucky could tell by your reaction that you didn’t want to stop. He chuckled and cracked a smile.

You grabbed your phone. It was from Steve.

It read: Gear up everyone. We have a mission. Meet in the debriefing room in 30 minutes.

“Come on, babe. Duty calls. We have a mission.” You took his hand and pulled him off the bed to go get dressed. He groaned, but complied.

“Okay, so tonight, our mission is to infiltrate the H.Y.D.R.A. headquarters to extract one of the infinity stones. They somehow found it, but it’s located in the heart of the base. We’re all going to have to work together to get it.” Steve was concerned for everyone’s safety. These evil men didn’t play nicely.

The ride on the quinjet was quiet. Everyone was getting in the zone. Bucky was slightly gripping your hand. You could tell that he was terrified to be going back into a H.Y.D.R.A. base.

“It'a going to be okay.” You whispered into his ear and kissed his temple. He gave you a shy smile, giving you a loving kiss to your lips. When he pulled away, his eyes were filled with so much love. But, as he looked away, his smile faded and fear took him over as the base came into view.

The drop door opened and everyone started to jump out. Bucky gave your hand one last squeeze before he let go and leaped out of the jet. You followed close behind and landed with your feet on the ground.

The mission seemed to be going perfectly, you were paired with Bucky. They made him your partner for every mission so in case anything related to the Winter Soldier happened, you would be there to calm him down and bring him back.

You and Bucky were almost at the middle of the base, you easily took out anyone that was in your way. You made it to the end of the hallway where the infinity stone lied and began to break the lock. You weren’t strong enough, so you switched places with Bucky. He broke the lock while you knocked out anybody that tried to get near him.

“I almost got it.” Bucky grunted out while trying to punch the lock with his metal arm.

You turned to him, “All clea-” you let out a groan as someone punched you in the gut, sending you to ground. Bucky instantly turned around at the sound. There you lay on the ground, with a gun pointed to your head.

“Come with me or I put a bullet through her pretty, little head.” The thick Russian accent of the H.Y.D.R.A. agent hung thick in the air. Bucky looked at you one more time and raised his hands. Another agent came from the side of him and hit him in the head with the butt of the gun, both your visions fading into black.

You woke up with your heading spinning. You were tied to a chair in a corner of the room, and you could feel the pain still bright in your abdomen. The only source of light was in the middle of the room, hanging above a metal table. As you strained your eyes, you saw someone chained to it. Bucky. There was dried blood on the side of his face.

“Bucky? Baby?” You groaned, the pain stretching to your ribs.

Bucky was thrashing around and immediately looked at the sound of your voice. Hope sparkled in his eyes, grateful that you were awake. “F/N, I love you. I love you so much.” It sounded like he was saying goodbye.

“No. Don’t do this. Do not be saying it like it’s goodbye, James Buchanan Barnes.” You were crying, tears streaming down your cheeks. “I love you more than you’ll ever know, but you aren’t going to do this to me. Don’t be acting this way.” He gave you a soft smile.

Then suddenly, a man burst through the door, and both of you snapped your heads up. The man had dark eyes, he was like a dark cloud rolling in. He had a notebook in his hand… with a red star on it. Bucky’s eyes went wild. The man smirked at you. He was going to make you watch, watch him suffer. You screamed, tears streaming down your face. You were yelling at Bucky to not give in, to be strong, but everything around him drowned out. You cried out that if he couldn’t, it was okay. That you loved him, that you wouldn’t blame him.

All Bucky focused on was the man with the notebook. The man in front of him smirked, throwing it down on the table, the sound echoing like a bomb in the room.


@floofypillow @ficarchive007

Whatcha think? Was it good? Let me know! I’ll have the next chapter tomorrow :)

Originally posted by pxggycxrters

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Truth or Dare

Fandom: Marvel
Request: “This is girl talk, so leave.” - Bucky, Sam, and Steve
Word Count: 411

You grabbed yourself a giant handful of popcorn and shoved it in your mouth as you listened to Natasha’s story. You love the sweet butter and salt flavour you could never have enough.

“Hey!” Wanda whined. Natasha sent a glare at her for interrupting her story.

“Well she is eating all the popcorn!” Wanda accused you. I mean you couldn’t deny that fact your love for popcorn. You raised your hands in defeat.

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Seasons of Love Ch.3 (Sashea/Katlaska) - Nymph

a/n i’m enjoying writing this piece of trash way more than i thought i ever would. it’s a lot of fun, and a lot of cute. this chapter is dedicated to marble bc im v proud of her for managing to get her dissertation/essay in on time and i know she likes this fic

in this chapter we see the girls muddle through their first day of work at the coffee shop, but it’s harder than it looks when there’s distractions around

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anonymous asked:

sashea, they keep teasing each other in the werk room

Thank you darling!

Send me sentence prompts and drag race pairings and I’ll write you a little drabble!

It started on the very first day in the werk room. They’d been getting out of drag after the Lady Gaga runway and Shea had looked up to she Sasha staring at her across the room. Shea had been wearing nothing but panties and a face of make-up. Shea caught the other queens eye but Sasha didn’t look away. Shea had smirked, turned around and bent over giving Sasha something to really stare at. When she stood back up Sasha was still staring at her. This is going to be fun, Shea thought.

Every time Shea found herself getting out of drag after that she would find Sasha’s eyes on her. If it were anyone else Shea might find it creepy, but she liked Sasha watching her. And she liked to tease in Sasha return. She would make a production of getting changed, taking her time to strip off her clothes and making sure Sasha had a good view of her. She would bend over and shake her ass in Sasha’s direction when the other queens weren’t looking. She knew what she was doing to Sasha and she loved it. But Sasha did things to Shea too.

After the Naughty Nighties runway when they were back in the werk room once again Shea found herself watching Sasha hang her clothes up. She had on a blonde wig and her outfit was so beautifully androgynous, sexy and feminine with just some pasties covering her boy chest. Shea didn’t mean to move closer to Sasha, she certainly didn’t mean to go over to where Sasha was hanging her clothes up but she had. Sasha stopped playing with her clothes and turned to Shea.
‘Hey.’ She smiled that incredibly beautiful smile at Shea and Shea melted at her voice like she normally did.
‘Hey.’ Shea replied. Her eyes didn’t mean to wander Sasha’s body, but they did.
'Can I help you with something?’ Sasha’s voice sounded deeper somehow, dripping with seduction. Shea’s eyes wandered Sasha’s body again before coming to a stop on her eyes that were sparkling.
'Uhm no.’ Shea shrugged dumbly. Sasha’s lip turned up a little at the corner and she took a step closer to Shea.
'Sure about that?’ She whispered, deliberately licking her bottom lip. Shea felt a stirring in her pants, Sasha was definitely doing this on purpose. 'What’s the matter Shea? You can give it but you can’t take it?’ Sasha laughed a little and then she turned away and bent over to pick something up off the floor. Of course Shea’s eyes went straight to her ass, Shea was sure Sasha had planned that. Sasha was getting her own back on Shea for her subtle strip shows across the werk room. She finally stood back up and hung the item up on her rack. Hanging up clothes never looked so good, Shea thought.

This continued throughout the competition. Every time they were in the werk room one of them would tease the other to try and wind them up and then the next day the other would retaliate. If the other queens had noiced no one had said anything. During the pilot challenge, Shea took things to the next level. All this flirting and teasing my have started out as a joke but the more it happened the more Shea wanted Sasha and she decided she wasn’t waiting around anymore.

They were sat at the table throwing around ideas for their pilot. Sasha was talking in a thick Russian accent, practising her character when Shea decided to make her move. While Sasha was talking Shea put her hand on the other queens thigh under the table. Sasha looked at her in confusion and Shea’s hand went higher. She moved her hand up Sasha’s thigh until she reached the other queens crotch. Sasha’s eyes widened and Shea saw her swallow.
'What…uhm what are you doing?’ Sasha dropped the accent and bit her lip.
'Isn’t this what you wanted Sasha?’ Shea came close to her ear and her voice was low and Sasha felt a stirring down below.
'That’s not fair.’ Sasha whispered, hoping the other queens wouldn’t notice what was going on. 'You’re playing dirty.’
Shea smirked and cupped Sasha’s growing election in her trousers.
'Don’t pretend you don’t like it.’ Shea breathed. Sasha was enjoying it, too much. All this teasing between them over the last few weeks had led her to wanting more. Their eyes were locked on each other and Shea kept her hand on Sasha’s crotch. God Sasha wanted more, this was so unfair. Suddenly Shea’s hand disappeared and she turned her attention back to ideas on the table.
'So, what shall we call it?’ Shea spoke as if nothing had happened. Sasha felt dizzy. This was so unfair.

All the way through filming their pilot Sasha kept catching Shea smirking at her with dark eyes and it was throwing her off. Sasha desperately tried to ignore it, they needed to do well in this challenge and Shea was making it hard, pun intended. Sasha decided to get her own back.

They were filming a scene that was going to be set on a beach where they both had their arms around each other and Sasha made her move. She let her hand trail down Shea’s back and then she grabbed the other queens ass. Shea gasped loudly and turned to look at her. Sasha was smirking at her.
'What’s wrong Shea?’ Sasha had danger dancing in her eyes. 'We planned this remember?’ She had to make Shea play along because Ru was watching them. Shea swallowed hard.
'Oh yeah. Must have forgot.’ Her voice was quiet.
'Let’s run that again.’ Ru called over to them. Sasha smirked at Shea again and Shea subtly shook her head at her. They filmed it again, this time Shea grabbed Sasha’s ass too. She squeezed it hard and Sasha tried to ignore that Shea was trying to get her own back and act professional.

'I can’t believe you would do that while we were filming.’ Shea hissed in Sasha’s ear later in the werk room. Trinity, Peppermint and Alexis were filming their pilot and Nina and Valentina were on the other side of the werk room chatting amongst themselves. Sasha took her wig and eye patch off.
'You can play dirty but I can’t?’ She raised a painted on eyebrow at the other queen.
'That was different.’
'Was it?’ Sasha folded her arms. 'Feeling me up under the table where anyone could have seen? That’s different?’
Shea blushed a little and bit her lip. 'I don’t know.’ She shrugged. 'We’re gonna get ourselves in trouble aren’t we?’
Sasha unfolded her arms and a smirk sprang to her face.
'Not if we’re careful.’ There was mischief in her eyes and Shea felt a shiver pass up her spine. Sasha looked over her shoulder to make sure Valentina and Nina or any of the crew weren’t looking their way. Then she stepped closer to Shea and put her hand on the other queens shoulder. 'We’ll just have to be really, really careful.’ She whispered, her whole body pressed up against Shea’s. Shea couldn’t help what she did next, but Sasha’s lips were close to hers and they looked so inviting with her glittery lipstick plastered on them. Shea closed the small space between them and gently pressed her lips against Sasha’s. Sasha hadn’t been expecting that and she gasped a little. Shea took the opportunity to slide her tongue in the older queens mouth. She wrapped her arms around Sasha’s neck and kissed her passionately. When the kiss broke Sasha was wide eyed. She hadn’t ever expected that to happen. She could see her lipstick on Shea’s lips and she figured Shea’s must be on hers. Sasha was staring at her dumbly and Shea smirked, her eyes now mischievous. She let her eyes trail up and down Sasha’s body seductively and then she came close to Sasha’s ear and whispered, 'I win.’ Then she turned on her heels and walked away. Sasha watched her go, in complete shock over what had just happened. Her fingers went to her lips, they felt like they were tingling. How had their teasing game ended like this? Sasha had never expected the teasing to amount to anything real. Sasha exhaled, still lightly stroking her lip. If Shea had won by kissing Sasha then Sasha was more than happy to be the loser.

So I’m going to try some imagines and see how I do.
How would dating hanzo/junkrat/Zarya begin?


- you won’t even know he has affection for you
- except for when he goes out of his way to teach you things in a very grumpy manner.
- being from a very Honorable Japanese family he would ask you the only way he knows how, very formally ask you to court him.

-he would ask in private, very seriously because he not only takes you and your feelings seriously but he wants this relationship with a person special to him to go right.

- it at first feels like he’s a boss hiring you for a job then when he’s about to ask the question he gets nervous maybe even blushes.

- when you say yes he shouts in surprise in Japanese but quickly collects himself.

- he allows himself a moment of affection and holds your hand gently and promises to be the best suitor he can.


- a love at first sight kinda guy.
- Very looney tunes when he thinks your not watching.
- panics to roadhog about what to do.
- calls you a “bonza sheila/mate" at some point - roadhog sick of hearing Junkrat squawk more than usual and physically places Junkrat in front of you - starts “nice day we’re having aye? He he…”
- is nervous
- Roadhog grumbles in annoyance
- Junkrat asks you to this hole in the wall bar that he goes to but quickly corrects himself and names the first ritzy restaurant that comes to his mind.
- says this all as one jumbled up sentence
- when you say yes he does his “Can’t deal” emote
- says he’ll pick you up at 7 tomorrow as he cackles and runs away.


- You make her laugh. Hard belly laugh.
- she has a special twinkle in her eye when she talks with you - takes every chance to carry you. If she finds out that you don’t like that she sadly stops.
- invites you to go with her every where. Grocery store, Gym, Parties, you name it. Unless it’s official business.
- slyly gives you her number, you know, just in case you want to hangout.
- gets in a fight because of you
- Comes out of the fight, or lack there of unscathed - “How can I let some wimpy peabrain talk to the most beautiful/handsome person I know?” Her Russian accent thick with adoration. With her gentle smile and eyes concentrated on yours.
- when you say that you return her affections she asks to kiss you.
Weapon XX: Part 2

Pairing: Reader x Bucky
Word Count: 1.5K
Warnings: Swearing, killing, mention of sex/sexual acts (not happening to the reader), mentions of torture, 


Feedback is always appreciated. Let me know if you want to be added to the tags list.

Y/L/N: Your Last Name

Part 1

Hydra was the organisation that had bought you from Ajax. They were pleased with what you had shown them after you had mutated, and the fact you were a woman made you more desirable to them. You could easily charm over government officials, and no one would suspect you were deadly.

It had been 6 months of intense training. Learning how to be silent and lethal, and learning how to carry yourself like a lady, so men would take notice. You were learning new thing about your mutation too. You heal quickly, not instantly, but quick enough that you didn’t need to worry about cuts and fractured bones. Hydra had a few ideas of how you could use the green slime that ran inside you too. It acted like an acid, and while it didn’t instantly burn through human skin, if it was ingested, it would kill your victim instantly. They had made you special weapons, knives mostly. But also some handguns with special bullets, that when laced with your acid slime, wouldn’t melt instantly. They were training you to become a deadly assassin. And you’d never felt more wrong.

“Do not touch!” Mrs. Popov swats your hand away. She was the woman that was assigned to you, she was teaching you how to talk, walk and act like a respectable lady. She was also teaching you how to perfect the skills of makeup and hair.

You quickly drop your hand from your neck, where your control collar sat. It often caught your skin and pinched, which was uncomfortable and distracting. The moment that Hydra had purchased you, they fitted you with it. It was thin and dante enough to pass for a thick chocker necklace, but it was much more than for show. It monitored everything. Your vitals, your location, and best yet; it was remotely hooked into your brain. You could receive messages from the organisation, and receive an electro shock, if you disobeyed.

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anonymous asked:

I'm writing a story where the MC is from Russia. I want to write him as having an accent but I'm not sure how. How would I make his dialogue show that he has a Russian accent? How could I make it affect other parts of the story and not be just for him?

Hi, doll! As easy as this sounds, many people (myself included) actually find this difficult to do so I’m thrilled to help!

Firstly, I’d recommend to get on YouTube and try and find some videos on Russian accents and write down what they sound like to you. You can also use the stereotypical things of what people describe Russian people sounding like (angry, annoyed, etc).

Secondly, after your dialogue, you can use some words to describe how he spoke. For example, “Felix stated gruffly, a faint Russian lilt noticeable in his voice.” or “Anastasia argued back, her words thick with venom and a heavy Russian accent accompanied them.” You don’t always have to do this, of course, and it’s best not to become repetitive. Just do this at occasional points in the dialogue or story and some may need it more than others. For example, accents tend to come out more heavily if you’re angry/sad/etc. Make sure to not just use the word accent, though you can use it, all the time either. Look up synonyms! 

Thirdly, depending on the intensity/thickness of the accent, some people may struggle to understand this. You can show this by other characters being confused by what he/she is saying and having to have your MC repeat the question. Keep note that the longer they’ve been away from Russia, their accent will begin to fade eventually (though usually never completely). 

I hope this has helped you and if you need it answered more thoroughly, please feel free to ask again. I’m currently writing a story where my characters come/live in Russia too so it’s not my first rodeo. Good luck and happy writing, angel!

- Mod Lilly

If you need advice on general writing or fanfiction, you should maybe ask us!

Pick-Up Lines 2

Synopsis: Remember how I said in the author’s note of this post  that I had another 3.5k words of Rocket Angel involving corny pick-up lines? Here you go! Rocket Angel AU fluff!

Pairings: Rocket Angel/Pharmercy (Fareeha “Pharah” Amari/Angela “Mercy” Ziegler), WidowTracer (Lena “Tracer” Oxton/Amlie “Widowmaker” Lacroix), Ice Bears/Russian Winter (Aleksandra “Zarya” Zaryanova/Mei-Ling Zhou)

The year is 2012. Lena Oxton is convinced that the world will end tomorrow, so she convinces Angela, with incessant wheedling and a pout she can’t resist, to attend an appropriately-themed party, hosted by the most elite women’s club in the city. The cover is an exorbitant, absolutely absurd thirty dollars, and that’s almost enough to make Angela abandon Lena, her current fuckbuddy/project/flavor-of-the-month Amelié, Genji, and Mei at the door, but the combined wheedling of her three friends and Amelié’s scathing glare make Angela turn over a twenty and ten to the gorilla of a bouncer with a deep sigh.

He adjusts his glasses as he steps aside.

“Have fun, Lena, Genji, ladies.”

“Cheers, Winston, mate!”

The thirty dollar cover seems fairer when they’re greeted in the line to the coat check by an absolutely stunning go-go dancer with flawless skin and brown eyes so light they look gold offering a tray of free ‘Revelation’ shots. Angela’s jaw drops and doesn’t close until Genji jabs an elbow into her side and whispers into her ear.

“Doctor Ziegler, if you keep staring at her ass like that, she might actually slap you.”

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Weapon XX: Part 3

Pairing: Reader x Bucky
Word Count: 2.3K
Warnings: Fighting, physical abuse

A/N: Time jump.

Feedback is always appreciated. Let me know if you want to be added to the tags list.

Part 1, Part 2

370 days. 8,880 hours. 532,800 minutes. 31,968,000 seconds. That’s how long you’d been owned by Hydra. And in that time, you had over 60 confirmed kills to your name. Not that you had been called by your actual name in over a year. You were only known as The Viper now. The Viper was the new Hydra ghost story.

You hated every moment you lived, if you could even be considered to be living. Every day held the same routine until you were given a new mission. You woke up, ate, trained in hand-to-hand combat, ate again, studied languages, trained with your weapons, ate again, studied technology and hacking, then slept. All to be repeated the next day. You were gliding through every moment, dulled to your surroundings.

A knock on your door startles you. You put down your Russian language book and wait for the visitor to enter. The moment Mr. Williams appears in your doorway, you drop your eye sight. It had been over a year, but you still couldn’t look at him, he still sent chills down your spine.

“Ah, Viper, brushing up on your Russian?” he queries,

“да,” Yes you dutifully answer, not daring to look at your superior,

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Yevgeny Milkovich had only been in kindergarten for a few weeks when his parents were both called in to see the principal. Though they had been separated for years, Svetlana and Mickey had established as close to a peace offering as they could, their natural banter was never more evident than when their little boy was causing trouble.

‘What did he do?’ Svetlana charged through the school hallway towards Mickey, sitting outside the principals office with the same smug look he had when he was sent there as a child.

‘Punched some little punk in the face’ Mickey answered, trying not to sound delighted.

‘For fucks sake!’ Svetlana grumbled ‘and you wonder if he your kid?’ her thick Russian accent had barely softened, despite her years in Chicago.

Mickey snickered. While there was no guarantee that the kid was biologically his, the Milkovich had certainly rubbed off on Yevgeny, who looked like Svetlana but had become more like Mickey as he grew older.

‘She’ll see you now!’ the assistant announced, escorting the couple into an office, where 5 year old Yevgeny sat bearing a smirk that could easily have been mistaken for Mickey’s.

‘Mr and Mrs Milkovich?’ the principal asked, ‘take a seat’.

‘As you are probably aware, the school has a strict code of conduct regarding violence and bullying. Unfortunately I’ve had to call you in today regarding Yevgeny’s behaviour in the playground. This is the second incident of bullying since school started three weeks ago, and seeing that this incident included violence against another student, I’ve had no choice but to call you in to discuss the matter.’

Mickey remained silent, fighting to maintain a serious face, he let out a sly smile.

‘Mr Milkovich, I’d like to stress that we’re taking this incident very seriously.’

Mickey all of a sudden feeling like the one in trouble.‘Yeah? What about the other boy?’ he snapped.

‘What about him?’

‘I know my kid, lady. He wouldn’t beat on someone without a reason!’

Svetlana scowled in Mickey’s direction.

‘What reason do you have that condones violence, Mr Milkovich?’

‘I’m ain’t condoning nothin’, I just want to know what the little shit said to my kid!’ Mickey growled.

‘Yevgeny?’ the principal turned towards the him ‘you won’t tell me. Would you like to explain it to your mother and father’.

The black haired boy shuffled nervously in his seat, starring sheepishly at the floor.

‘Yevgeny Mikhailo Milkovich, you explain right now!’ Svetlana demanded.

‘Jack said…’ he paused and looked towards his father, who gave him a loving nod. ‘Jack said that my daddy’s a faggot…’.

He couldn’t contain it, the biggest grin swept across Mickey’s face.

‘Told ya, he was provoked!’

The principal sighed. ‘While the school does not tolerate name-calling, the matter of violence…’

‘Oh you don’t tolerate it? Well what’s happening to that little shit then?… that’s what i thought. So this Jack can say whatever he wants and my kid has to sit back and take it? Fuck that, lady!’      

The principal scowled, ‘Perhaps it would be best if we meet again once everyone has calmed down and I have a chance to talk with Jack’s parents?’

‘Well that’s a fuckin’ swell idea!’ Mickey professed, Svetlana swiftly kicking him under the desk.

Mickey, Svetlana and Yevgeny walked silently through the school to the parking lot, the little boy dragging behind, kicking pebbles as he walked.

‘Come on kiddo,’ Mickey smiled, helping his son into the car.

‘You going to reprimand your son?’ Svetlana snapped, putting her arm against the car door to prevent Mickey from opening it.

‘Nope’ he smiled. She muttered a reply in Russian and opened Yevgeny’s door, ‘I see you tomorrow, young man’ she said sternly before kissing him on the cheek and buckling him in. ‘I pick him up from school. You think you can manage to get him here?’ she scowled.                              

'I’m perfect capable of taking care of my kid, thanks!’ he frowned, putting his son’s backpack in the trunk.                                                                      'You mean Ian is’ she muttered as she walked off.

‘You can’t just let him go around beating up other kids, Mick!’ Ian stressed, shoving a tray of chicken nuggets in the oven. Mickey sipped his beer and smiled ‘Yeah, whatever.’

Ian snatched the beer from his hand and looked him dead in the eye,

‘you’re proud of him!’ Ian scoffed ‘he punched a kid in the face and you’re actually proud of him?’ giving a disbelieving smile.

Mickey shrugged and grabbed himself another beer from the fridge.

‘He didn’t let some little shit bully him, ain’t nothing wrong with that!’

Mickey began clearing up the mess in the kitchen, ‘you gonna help or what?’ he asked in an attempt to distract Ian’s judgement.

Ian put his arms around Mickey’s waist, gently nudging his shoulder with his chin, ‘he’s five years old Mick. At this rate, he’s gonna be expelled before he gets to the first grade!’

Mickey shrugged him off and continued cleaning.

‘Seriously Mick, I know you’re seeing the positives here, that he’s not taking shit from anyone. But you need to think about what’s going to happen to him!”

Mickey began washing up rigorously.‘I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing!’

Ian sighed ‘you’re washing dishes!’

‘With Yevgeny, dickhead!’ Mickey sighed. ‘I’m probably fuckin’ him up’

Ian grabbed his boyfriend by the waist, this time turning him around to face him. ‘You’re looking out for him, because you love him!’

Mickey smiled awkwardly, ‘Yeah? I tried so hard not to. When he was a baby, I mean…’

Ian’s embrace tightened, ‘Yeah, you were always that way Mick’ he whispered as he ran all of his fingers through Mickey’s dark hair ‘pushing people away because you’re afraid of how much you actually love them.’

‘You sound like a fag right now’ he mocked, relieving the discomfort of Ian’s truth.

‘Hey, do I need to get your son?’  Ian teased.

‘So what am I supposed to do?’ the desperation was clear in Mickey’s voice. He knew he loved his son, but he had no experience in how to deal with this. Ian was the only person he knew with some comprehension of decent parenting. 

‘Talk to him? Communicate? And if all else fails, think of whatever Terry would have done and do the exact opposite!’

Fire Can Melt Metal || Winter Soldier Short Story || Pt.1?

Originally posted by blackinjustice

“I can kill you.”
“I can incinerate you before you could even think to.”

1960, Hydra Base in New York

My feet smacked against the cold, concrete floors of the dimly lit hallway. Alarms blared through my ears, making them ring. Cold air seeped into my bones but my adrenaline kept me from feeling a damn thing. I ran and ran, fire pulsing through my veins. Literally. 
I had no idea what were in those needles. But I knew that I had no control of what they provided me with. Flames washed over the walls like waves and I feared that I’d kill myself before I even escaped. 
When I felt the cold air and could see the stars, I laughed with relief but kept on running. 


I returned to the city on an empty stomach, my body tarnished with dark bruises and a shadow underneath my eyes. 
It’s been three weeks. 
My fiance and I were celebrating at an engagement party when I was taken. I reached the Upper East Side, my eyes tearing up with the eagerness to see him and be back in our home. Escaping that hell seemed so surreal that I found it difficult to even figure out what to do. 
But I simply opened the door, inhaling the scent of my home and smiling. I turned on the lights. 
“Roger!” I cried. “I’m home! I’m home!” 
I felt the tears wash over my dirty face. It was nearly three in the morning but I ran up the steps anyway, my joints aching. 
“Roger! I’m back! I-I escaped and oh my goodness, I missed you so much!” I said, smiling and laughing as I ran to our bedroom. 
But I skidded to a halt when my fiance opened our bedroom door and gasped, not expecting him to be so alert. 
“Evelyn?” he questioned, his face falling. I couldn’t help it. I threw myself into his arms. “Where were you? My God! It’s been three weeks!” 
I tightly wrapped my arms around him tightly and sobbed into his neck. I thought I was strong. I thought I had help up well in those conditions. But I never thought I would break down like this.
“Oh, it was horrible! I don’t know what they did to me, Roger. It was a terrible, terrible place. I just barely escaped with–” 
I stopped. Not because I wouldn’t mention my new abilities but because we weren’t the only ones on this floor. A woman came into view behind Roger and I stepped back. Was I seeing things? Was hallucinating a side effect to whatever I was injected with?
“Evelyn…” Roger said sympathetically. That’s when my chest caved in and I knew this was real.
“Three weeks…” I gulped. 
“I can ex–”
“We were engaged.” I said, my voice becoming more stern. I could laugh I was so furious. I looked at the innocent blonde behind him and was more mad than upset. 
“Please, just– What the hell?!” 
I watched his eyes widen at an object behind me and I spun around, my own blood running cold at the sight of the Winter Soldier. The metal arm didn’t even have to touch me to send chills running down my spine. But before I could move, the Winter Soldier pushed me aside while simultaneously stepping forward. I heard a loud thud and an ear piercing scream that was cut too short. I went into shock staring at the two limp bodies in my elegant hallway.
Roger and his toy were dead. Well, at least the girl was.
But I stared, wishing I was facing the problem of my cheating fiance rather than the Winter Soldier.
With all of the emotions surging through me and my thoughts running wild, I didn’t move. I knew my life was over and I would go back to those terrible conditions. I was so angry! I failed my fiance and I was helpless. I would no longer have a home, I would no longer have my wedding, I would no longer see my friends. It was all at my own stupidity. 

“I can kill you.” the Winter Soldier warned in Russian. I put it together though after a few weeks of hearing a few words here and there.  
“I can incinerate you before you could even think to.” I replied coldly, my eyes blankly staring at his chest. I looked at the Soldier through his tinted goggles, unable to see the eyes behind them. But I wasn’t backing down. I wouldn’t express any fear of him nor my death (which sounded more appealing at the moment)
But instead of continuing any of this, the Winter Soldier grabbed me and I went out before I even felt the collision. 


I heard the voices of Russian men and a variety of metal tools moving around. There was a metal clamp around several key parts of my body and one was even on my head. But the worst feeling was the sharp, numb pain to my hands that made me shiver. My eyes then flashed open as I inhaled sharply, trying to look around the room. All I could see in front of me though was two buckets of ice and a variety of men. My heart beat frantically and I tried to get out of the grip of this metal machine.

“Wipe her.” said a man with a thick, Russian accent. 

I went still.

“What?!” I cried. My eyes searched the room from what I could see. The fear of no escape was quite bone-chilling. But my eyes fell on a dark figure with brown hair and the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen. He stood with his arms crossed and back against a wall. The metal arm informed me of the man’s identity and somehow, I stared at him and felt so intrigued that I was oblivious to my current situation. 

I was so oblivious that I didn’t even expect the sudden pain that ripped through my skull. My eyes squeezed shut as an unbearable pain consumed me until my own screams became unrecognizable and left my throat on fire. 

Soon enough, I couldn’t feel at all. 


“Should we pair them together?” a man asked Zola who was deep in thought about the newest addition. 
“The Winter Soldier and Pyro?” he responded.
“Yes, sir.” 
Zola hummed, thinking of what that would be like.
“Sometimes, yes.” Zola nodded. “We shall let him train her and with her powers, she might be more useful than him in the future. Why do you ask this?”
“Well, as a psychologist, studies have revealed that two people who benefit each other will often become stronger when working together all while individually enhancing themselves. I ask about their partnership because I want you to consider what they could be capable of.”
“Very well then. Have him train her tomorrow morning. If this is proven right, then they will carry out possibly the biggest mission of the year.” Zola concluded.

Should I continue?

anonymous asked:

all i want is a well written ambreigns high shool au fic with jock roman and comic book nerd dean is that too much to ask for? PLEASE WRITE THIS

okay so like I hate/love this and there’s def gonna be more parts but here you go love

“You’re just like Flash Thompson, and I’m Peter Parker.”

 Roman spun around to face the one who said that. The young Samoan was greeted with a pale face adorned in blood trickling cuts and vibrant blue eyes, one in particular surrounded by a bruising wound. Despite the injuries, a cheeky smile was plastered on the victim’s face, as if he was proud of what he just said.

Minutes ago, Roman walked into the lunchroom with friend Seth Rollins by his side, carrying their trays to sit with the Authority - Pensacola High’s football team. The team along with their cheerleader girlfriends sat comfortably by their table, the boys flinging pieces of fries at each other childishly as their girlfriends chatted on the recent gossip.  The captain of the Authority, Hunter, acknowledged Roman and Seth with a holler, “And here he comes! The one and only, Roman Reigns!” The table erupted into roars of cheers and shouts, all applauding Roman for the Authority’s recent game the previous Saturday where Roman scored the touchdown. Seth joined in the applauding, patting his friend with his free hand as they both sat down. “Oh c’mon guys,” Roman said with a laugh. “Are you guys going to do this every time I enter a room?” The entire team laughed at the quarterback’s comment, although Roman was beginning to find it – along with the entire school body – quite annoying. “But Roman what you did there was unbelievable,” Cody Rhodes was still in complete awe from last Saturday. “You were running as if in the speed of light!” “Only you would know the actual speed of light,” Ted DiBiase Jr. commented as he dogged down his burger. Cody was swift to defend his knowledge. “It’s 299,792,458 meters per second.” “Oh look at Dusty’s boy, he really does hit the books after all!” Ted snapped back with a grin. Cody almost jumped off his seat until Hunter pushed him down.  “Guys, guys, guys!” Hunter shook his head. “This isn’t about who’s smarter than who, it’s about Roman!” “Please,” Roman forced a smile. “That was three days ago guys, shouldn’t we be focusing on our next match?” Again the team broke into roars of laughter, not taking the young quarterback seriously. Stephanie McMahon, Hunter’s beautiful and devoted girlfriend, cut into the laughter. “You earned the team their first win in weeks, almost a month really,” Stephanie said as she sat on Hunter’s lap. “We have every reason to celebrate.” Roman’s brow rose, could Stephanie be saying what he thought she was saying? “That’s why this Saturday,” a smile widened on Stephanie’s lips as she said, “I am going to host a party at my place for the Authority’s big win!” 

“Oh God no.” Roman muttered his breath, his comment drowned in the cheering. “Roman!” Seth whispered excitedly in his friend’s ear. “We’re going to Stephanie McMahon’s house! Do you know who her dad is?” “Vince McMahon.” Roman answered dully. “Yes!” Seth grinned, “aka the richest man alive!”  Roman could all but smile at Seth; he could see his friend was most definitely excited and Roman would hate to see Seth upset if he refused going to the party. Seth wasn’t even part of the football team, frankly he was a nobody who just happened to be in the wrestling team but that was all. But through his friendship with Roman, Seth had gained popularity and recognition.

Roman looked up to see a grinning Stephanie and Hunter, their expression asking so what do you say?  Roman glanced at Seth before he turned to his teammates. “I can’t wait.” Instantly, the entire table broke into chats in what they were going to bring, wear, and do at the party which was still vaguely being planned out. Roman began devouring his burger when he felt a sudden tug on his ponytail. God he hated that.

“What the hell -,” Roman began but silenced himself when he turned his head.


Seth quickly focused his attention to his food. Prior to his sudden popularity, Randy along with his pals Kane and Dave Batista had the habit of rounding up a lone Seth and attempting to beat the life out of him yet Roman would always interfere. Because of that, Roman’s relationship with Randy has been strained.  

Randy’s intense pale blue eyes locked with Roman’s coffee colored ones. The stare was intense as none said a word, but Roman eased down when Randy flashed a small smile. “Congratulations on the touchdown.” “Thank you.” Roman said, turning his back to focus on his meal. Roman wasn’t comfortable with Randy being on the team, but Randy’s father was the star champion in his time so it was Randy’s duty to continue the legacy. Roman just had to deal with it.

Roman sipped on his milk carton, his eyes roaming the lunchroom trying to find something or someone to keep him entertained besides the chattering coming from his table. Nothing caught his interest. Hoping to see if Seth had anything interesting to say Roman turned his head but saw Seth scribbling furiously into his notebook, trying to finish his chemistry homework. Roman was contemplating to go outside until the sound of Randy snickering with his friends caught his interest. He couldn’t quite figure out what they were saying but he followed the direction where Batista’s finger was pointing, his gaze landing on a walking teenager clad in an oversized black hoodie with a tattered, yellowed Batman symbol adorned on it. The teen’s face was hidden but Roman could see scruffy, twisted dirty blonde hair stick out underneath from the hood.

Who was this kid? Roman felt a wave of concern for the teen wash over him when he saw Batista whisper something into Randy’s ear and a wide grin grow on Randy’s face. And what are they going to do to him?

Roman didn’t have any time react; before he knew it the teen suddenly collapsed and smacked the pavement face first. The teen’s tray was squashed underneath him, ruining his hoodie with the stains of tomato sauce and milk. Randy threw his head back, his mouth captivated with laughter. Hunter snorted as Stephanie snickered with her girlfriends. The entire table with the exception of Roman and Seth were in fits of cackling. “Holy shit is he okay?” Seth whispered to Roman. Before Roman could speak, it seemed the teen already answered Seth’s question as it got up on its legs. With the hood pulled back, Roman was able to see the teen’s vibrant, wild blue eyes, scruffy brown-golden hair equipped with growing stubble, and bleeding nose. The teen glanced at Roman for a mere second until it turned its attention to Randy - by smacking the back of his head.

Everyone’s laughter halted. Randy’s icy blue eyes widened for a second after the impact, his head turning slowly to face the bleeding teenager. “Did you fucking hit me?”

Roman could feel Seth clutch his wrist, a notion that should leave before all hell breaks loose. But Roman shook his hand free.

“Is my nose bleeding?” The teenager answered just seconds before Kane and Batista jumped off their seats, pinning the struggling and kicking teen against the wall with his arms. Randy immediately jumped into action, pounding his fists into the teenager’s face and stomach furiously. Hunter looked ready to join in but Stephanie placed her hand on his, a signal for not right now.

With every punch Randy delivered, the teen would sputter a laugh. “Is that all you got?”

Randy snapped. With his elbow, Randy jabbed it directly in the teen’s eye. The teen hollered in pain, his body writhing helpless under Kane’s and Dave’s grasp. Roman couldn’t handle it anymore, anymore punches and Randy was going to kill this kid. Roman avoided Seth’s grasp to hold him back as he ran after Randy, pulling him backwards roughly by the shoulders. “Randy, stop!” The instant Randy turn around, the teen kicked his leg up and smacked Randy directly in the back with his boot. Randy spun around and reared back, ready to deliver a punch right in the other eye until Roman grasped it. The teen was a bleeding, gasping mess as Roman saw him.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Randy attempted to rip his hand free but Roman’s grasp was tight. “Let go of me, Roman!” When Roman didn’t move, Randy slammed his fist into Roman’s cheek.

That was the final straw for Seth as he lunged forward from his seat and slammed onto Randy.

“Fight! Fight! Fight!” echoed in the lunchroom by everyone. Roman pulled off a raging and kicking Seth off a homicidal Randy, only to be speared by Batista. Cody decided to punch Ted on his remark earlier. And together, Kane and Randy were beating the living daylights out of the teenager. Someone would of have gotten killed if it wasn’t for Principal Lana to enter the scene, her thick Russian accent voice screeching “Stop!”  

Roman saw Dustin, Cody’s older brother, hauled his brother over his shoulder as students Kofi and Daniel were picking the beaten students who were dragged into the brawl. For the teen, he tried to escape the scene until Principal Lana pointed him out. “Someone take him to the nurse, now.”  No student moved, their fear of Randy Orton, amplifying their decision to leave the kid alone. When no one stirred, Principal Lana grunted in frustration. She spun around observing the students, trying to pick the less bloody when her eyes fell on Roman. “Roman, accompany Dean Ambrose to the nurse this instant!”

Dean’s blue eyes glanced at Roman’s; Dean was currently occupied with stuffing a napkin up his noise.

Not wanting to get into any more trouble – Roman already knew he was signed up for suspension – he quickly made his way towards the exit, titling his head as signal for Dean to follow. Dean obeyed.

The nurse ordered Dean to hold his head back to stop the blood flow as she examined Roman’s cheek and ribs. A big, black bruise tainted Roman’s abdomen and he was ordered to lie down. The nurse had 10 + students to check up on as well, but she was aware of the heated friction. “Roman and Dean, Room 101 is unoccupied. There is a bench there for you Roman to lie down on, and Dean you can seat wherever you want, just keep your head back.” The nurse opened the door for the two young men to leave. “And please, don’t kill each other.”

Room 101 was one flight upstairs. Roman avoided Dean’s gaze as they silently made their way upstairs and into the unlocked room. It wasn’t until Roman closed the door when Dean finally spoke.

“You’re just like Flash Thompson, and I’m Peter Parker.”

Roman was expecting a “Thank you” or a “Why did you help me?” Something amongst those lines but not that.

“Who?” Roman perked an eyebrow. 

“Flash Thompson.” Dean answered in a matter of fact way as if Roman should’ve known who he was talking about.

Roman clutched his aching abdomen as he walked to the bench. “I don’t know who you’re talking about, Dean.” 

“Flash Thompson from Spider-Man,” Dean sat on the edge of the teacher’s desk, crumbling the bloody napkin since the bleeding has stopped. “He was a jock, y’know like those assholes who fucked me up today, so I’m like Peter Parker, right?” Dean didn’t wait for Roman to say anything, he continued anyway. “But the thing is Flash Thompson, actually helped Peter out; sure he’d beat him up once in a while but in the end, he stood up for the guy. Even in when he lost his legs, but it’s all good because he bonded with the Venom symbiote so now he’s a good guy.”  

Roman was speechless. What the hell is this kid talking about?

“Um cool.” That was all that Roman managed to say.

But Dean wasn’t finished. “But now that I think about it, you’re not really Flash Thompson. You’re more of a Bruce Banner type of guy.”

Now that was a name Roman has heard before, “The Hulk, right?”

Dean nodded his head, “Yeah, yeah him!”

“So am I a big angry green monster?” Roman chuckled.

Roman immediately regretted his question because Dean went into a 10 minute explanation and philosophy course of how Roman’s quietness was parallel to the humble, meek Banner but on the field where Roman went – quote: “a titanic mass of  god given power”  - and how it was similar to the Hulk.

Roman could see Dean was getting a kick out of showing off his comic book knowledge; he couldn’t believe this kid was for real.

“So which storyline do you follow for the Hulk?” Dean asked suddenly.

Roman laughed too quickly. “Nah, I don’t read Marvel comics but as a kid, I’d watch Lou Ferrigno as the Hulk on TV.”

“What about Lynda Carter’s Wonder Woman?” Dean asked with a wink.

Roman smiled, “I was and is still in love with her.”

The two students – who have never interacted ever before – both laughed. It was in the conversation that the two students had forgotten their wounds.

“So what DC comics do you read?” Dean crossed his arms.  “You said you don’t read Marvel comics.”

“Well I,” Roman was looking for the right words. “I haven’t read a comic book in ages, but when I used to, it was always Superman.”

“Superman?” Dean said with a clear hint of disgust “Oh god, why Superman?”

Roman was taken back. “I’m assuming I have a Superman hater.”

Dean pulled his spoiled Batman sweatshirt. “Um hello, Batman kicks ass.”

“Batman doesn’t even have superpowers!” Roman argued.

“That’s what makes him so much interesting,” Dean was full on defending his hero. “Superman is so boring, he always gets the girl, has all the perfect superpowers, and you’re going to tell me that no one knows his secret identity when all he wears are glasses and slicks his hair to the left!”

“Okay the third point I agree on.” Roman confessed. “But if you were to put those two together who would win?”

“Batman won against Superman!”


Dean didn’t even pause; in perfect harmony he described Dark Knight Returns without skipping a beat.

After a moment of silence, Roman spoke up.

“I’ll be damned.”

Dean grinned to himself, his smile reading I just educated you in a cocky way.

“I guess you win, Dean.” Roman gave up. “Congratulations.”

Dean smiled but winced in pain, “Shit, everything hurts.”

“Welcome to the club.” Roman his mouth to ask Dean how he knew all this knowledge, he was impressed nevertheless, when suddenly.

Where the fuck is Dean Ambrose?”

Randy Orton’s voice echoed the empty hallways.

Dean sighed.

“Not this shit again.”

anonymous asked:

Writing prompt! Ayn rand is somehow alive and feels the need to complain about social justice

This is the best fucking prompt I’ve ever seen I had to write way more than just a few sentences. Thank you so much, Anon.

I smoothed my hair, hands shaking a bit with nervousness, and checked my teeth in the reflection off my phone. You can do this, I thought to myself. You’re just going to interview one of the most prominent writers of the 20th century. No big deal, right? 

I couldn’t say I agreed with her politics, but who cares! I would be the first person to interview Ayn Rand in over 30 years, after it was revealed she had faked her death in 1982 and moved to a tiny town in the Balkans. 

Recorder was on the patio table, next to the water glass. Notebook was in front of me - a fresh new reporter’s notebook, no way in hell was I going to show up with my usual coffee-stained, wrinkled mess of a notebook. Pen was in my hand. I had this.

When Ms. Rand herself showed up - dressed in a heavy coat, despite the balmy weather, her face hidden in a pair of large sunglasses - my heart skipped a beat. I turned to my photographer and flashed a nervous grin. He gave ma thumbs up and mouthed, “You got this!”

“Ms. Rand,” I said by way of introduction, as I stood up, hand out. “It’s such an honor, I’m so happy that you agreed to sit down with me–”

She ignored me completely, and sat down with a slight, irritable huff. The photographer was already snapping like mad. Ayn Rand took off her sunglasses and snapped, Russian accent still thick after all these years, “Must you do that during a meal? Did your mother teach you any manners?”

Under the sunglasses, she looked spry for a 110 year old. The photographer was opening and closing his mouth, at loss for words. He looked like he had just been caught stealing by his mother.

I sat back down, clearing my throat a little. Her dark eyes snapped to me. “The waiter should be coming soon with breadsticks. I took the liberty of ordering tea for you, is that alright?”

“Yes, yes, fine,” she said, waving a hand at me as if to wave me away. “I trust this should not take too long.”

Right. Reporter mode time. I snapped on my recorder. “Well, the people do have a lot of questions. For you to just appear again, after 30 years…”

“I do not want to talk about that,” Rand snapped. 

I blinked. “Oh. OK. Umm, then what do…”

The waiter came, with breadsticks. He placed them down, and asked for our orders. I asked if he could give us a few more minutes, and he bounced away. Rand had already taken a breadstick and was pulling it in half.

“You go on the internet much, I take it,” Rand said.

“Of course,” I said, with a small laugh.

“There is a neighbor boy, in the house I have been living in - very nice boy, very helpful - he taught me how to use the computer.” Rand shook out some olive oil onto a small plate, and dipped the bread in it. “I have been reading much on the internet.”

“OK,” I said, having no idea where this was going.

“I have been reading very many blogs. Many so-called academics and professors and children.” She put the bread down and leaned in, thin hands clinging to the wrought metal table. “I have been reading much about this so-called social justice.”

With great difficulty, I resisted spitting out a mouthful of water. My gaze flicked to the recorder to make sure it was still running. 

Rand was still going. “Many people…it is ridiculous. For so many that say they have read my work - there are classes about ‘The Fountainhead’ and ‘Atlas Shrugged’, you know, in the same universities where this nonsense is being tolerated - so many seem to have ignored it completely. These izbalovannyye deti, so many of them, they insist the world reflect their viewpoints rather than the other way around. It is ridiculous. It is - I wonder often, very often, how these individuals would have fared if they grew up as I did. They would not be talking about ‘trigger warnings’ then, I assure you.”

“Well, the concept of a trigger warning isn’t new.” I needed to turn this conversation back to my article. “I was wondering why you decided to fake your death, exactly, were there external pressures, or –”

“There are some, on this internet, they want everything for themselves. They scratch at those who have worked for their livelihoods like mice, biting and clawing get what they do not deserve.” Rand slammed her water on the table, and my photographer and I both jumped. “They invent new genders! Have you heard of ‘bigender?’ This was not a thing in Russia. This was not a thing anywhere. I do not understand any of it.”

“Ms. Rand,” I said, a little exasperated. “Did you agree to this interview just so you could talk about why you hated social justice?”

Ayn Rand’s gaze, as she looked me straight in the eyes, was like not quite like anything I had ever seen before. It was like the cold industrial metal in her novels, harsh and unforgiving. I was realizing this interview was not going to go where I wanted.

“Let me ask you, child. Have you ever heard of a furry?”

Vibranium StevexReader

Originally posted by themarvelnerd


Request (Anon): I know you probably have a bunch of requests, but I wanted to send this in before I forget. Can you do a StevexReader where they are in a battle and Steve throws his shield at the bad guy, but they deflect it and the shield hits the reader? It knocks her into a building and seriously hurts her, making Steve freak, cause he hurt the person he secretly loves? You’re writing is amazing! 😍

A/N: You have no idea how sorry I am that this has taken so long. I love you, thank you for the request! 

Words: 1949

Warnings: Blood, swearing bc it me?

The sound of gunfire was so overwhelming that it was difficult for you to hear the com radio that was in your ear. Smoke clouded the streets, sending your feet stumbling over the broken asphalt as you climbed over debris. You were focused on trying to avoid the lightning bolts that were attacking the ground all around you as you ran, hoping that the electric idiot wouldn’t be the reason you died today.

A man (or your dumbfuck of a brother) - who went under the alias Electrode - was running loose around Manhattan Island trying to destroy the city in a haze of fierce electricity. And he was doing it all because he was rejected from the Avengers Project after a thoroughly failed psych exam.

Clearly he was mentally unstable.

If Ultron hadn’t been a big enough pain in the ass, your brother and his ability to manipulate electricity was really pissing you off. Thor was doing at good job at diverting the lightning strikes, but Electrode was starting to use the city’s electricity against the team by bringing inanimate objects to life with his power. Your breath was starting to come in sharp gasps as you tore through the streets of New York, your body feeling the impact of your constant sprinting towards the city’s threat.

A streak of blue caught your eye and you grinned, knowing that Pietro was around somewhere and that he had your back. You kept running towards the centre of the electric storm, your fingers tingling with frost.

“Y/N, have you found him yet?”

You nearly fell on your face with the sound of Steve’s voice on your radio. You couldn’t help the breathless smile on your lips. Pietro appeared by your side in a matter of seconds, looking down at your short figure with a natural smirk gracing his lips. You nodded at him with a smile, placing your finger against your radio. “Yeah, I think Pietro and I have him! Corner of 46th and 7th.” 

There was a second of stunned silence from the entire team before Steve spoke again, “He’s in Times Square?”

You nodded grimly, even though they couldn’t see you Pietro still could. “Yup, will all of Central Manhattan’s electricity at his disposal.”

“Sounds like fun,” Pietro grinned, “We’re going in Cap.”

“Don’t you dare Maximoff.” Natasha threatened harshly. “Wait for back up.”

You and Pietro exchanged mischievous smiles and you tapped your radio, “Sorry Romanoff - can’t hear you - think - cut - ok - ge - electric - no - “ You pulled the radio from your ear and switched it off, Pietro doing the same while looking down at you.

“You’re evil.” Pietro smiled, “I like it.”

You shrugged, “Whatever. I’m here to get the job done and that’s what we’re going to do. I want my brother back.”

Pietro nodded, stepping forward and swinging you into his arms, running through the streets towards Times Square. The feeling of your hair whipping against your face made your cheeks sting but you ignored it for the few seconds it took for Pietro to arrive. He put you down and you looked around in wonder.

The screens that normally filled the square were all dark, the lack of lights cast ugly shadows from the very dim street lights. You could tell that Electrode was here simply because your arm hair was sanding up straight - the feeling of electricity in the air was unavoidable. You nervously looked up at Pietro and you could tell by his face that the static in the air was making him uncomfortable too.

You took a few steps forwards and were suddenly thrown back by a blast a lightning. Your head fell back against the ground and you groaned in pain, “Ow! Fuck that hurt.”

Pietro, who normally would have been by your side to make sure you were ok, was also blown backwards. But the Sokovian boy wasn’t as lucky as you had been. Pietro was blasted into a glass windowed building and you watched as the glass shattered around him almost 10 stories up.

Now this was personal, your brother hurt your best friend.

You stood up quickly, eyeing the shadowy figure in the black hood that was standing in front of the jumbotron. “We need to talk George.”

The man practically hissed at you, “It’s E-LECT-RODE you pathetic little icicle!”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes, figuring it wouldn’t help the situation. You flexed your fingers with a small smile, ready to send spirals of ice in his direction at any moment. “Listen Pikachu, I don’t like what you’re doing to my city. Not to mention you just threw my best friend into a building - Do you know how rude that is?”

“I’m sorry sister,” Electrode stepped forwards, raising his hands mechanically, like he was summoning his power with a sick smile on his cracked lips. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

His stance sent you into defensive mode, swirls of snow and ice started circling you in a protective orb. Ice wouldn’t be much a fight against his electrical current manipulation - in fact, it would just melt - but you had to give it your all no matter what.

“Stand down and no one has to get hurt.” You told him seriously. “Come on George, just stop this craziness and we can help you.”

His head flew back in laughter and his cackles sent shivers down your spine. You eery felt something behind you and your head snapped around to see Pietro standing there with Steve beside him. 

“Nice of you boys to show up.” You joked half-heartedly, taking in Pietro’s shaken appearance and Steve’s bloody lip before turning back to the man that was threatening the city. “It’s not easy talking down the crazies all by my lonesome.” 

Steve stepped forward and glared at you profusely, he was obviously mad at you for ditching backup and your radio. “Y/N, what the hell were you thinking?”


“Preferably yes.”

You couldn’t meet his eyes, “I didn’t want anyone to get hurt. George isn’t emotionally stable and bringing him to the Avengers was a mistake. This is my fault and I’m not going to be the one to get you killed.”

Steve eyes widened and right as he opened his mouth to say something, he pulled you behind him protectively and shielded you from a giant electric bolt. 

The battle had begun.

Your brother was firing bolts of electricity everywhere, trying to knock the three of you down. Thank gosh Pietro was far too fast to get hit so he just sped past Electrode over and over, trying to knock him over. 

You and Steve split up quickly as to not draw even more attention to yourselves. You managed to freeze a fire hydrant until it burst, sending water all over the streets for your disposal. You turned the water near your brothers feet to ice, trying to keep him in the same spot so that he couldn’t move. Steve’s approach was much more direct - he strode over to the hooded man and started punching him in the face repeatedly.

When a bolt sent Rogers flying back, you ran to his side. “Steve!” You cried and you ran towards him.

Apparently Steve couldn’t see you running to him because when he stood up he threw his shield directly at you - sending you flying into the brick walls of the Renaissance Hotel. Your head snapped back against concrete for the second time today and there was a moment of intense pain before you completely succumbed to the darkness.


“Y/N?” A voice called - sounding like an Angel from Heaven and you were quite sure you were dead. “Can you hear me? Pietro I think I killed her!”

“Captain,” A thick Russian accent sighed from above you. “Her fingers just twitched and she is breathing fine. You probably just knocked her out.”

“I’m such an idiot…”

You managed to open your eyes, the pain behind your skull was overwhelmingly difficult to manage and it was making your vision double and triple around you. You looked up to see Steve kneeling beside you and Pietro standing above you with a small smile. 

“You are kind of are an idiot.” You mumbled, sitting up and rubbing at your eyes. Steve started rambling that you needed to lay back down and that he was sorry that he hit you.

“I’m going to flag down Wanda.” Pietro smirked before disappearing into the crumbled streets of New York.

Even with your head in so much pain, you knew that he was trying to be your wing-man and the thought made you smile. In fact, you started giggling and Steve looked shocked.

“Um,” Steve mused, looking slightly scared, “Y/N, are you ok?”

You giggled stupidly, not sure why you couldn’t stop laughing. The inability to stop laughing was slightly terrifying and you looked up to Steve. “I - Can’t stop!”

You could tell that Steve was trying to bite his lip to keep himself from laughing when you snorted but you turned to him in fear, giggles still rolling off your lips. When you finally stopped laughing, there was a moment of silence.

“I can’t believe I hit you, I’m really sorry.” Steve told you, grabbing one of your hands and telling you over and over just how sorry he was for knocking you into a building.

His apologies were getting tired, so you grabbed his face with both hands and looked deep into his eyes. “Steve, shut up. It’s fine, it was an accident.”

He searched your eyes for any sign of doubt or hatred towards him, but clearly finding nothing. “You’re sure?”

You nodded with a small smile. “Let’s get out of here?”

Steve helped you up, but the second you put pressure on your ankle, you nearly collapsed back to the floor - saved by Steve’s arms. 

“Well,” You mumbled, looking down at your black and blue foot. “I think I broke my ankle…”

Steve groaned, “No I broke your ankle…”

He scooped you up into his arms before you could protest, starting to walk back to Stark Tower with you in his arms. 

You poked him in the cheek, “It’s not your fault Steve, don’t feel so bad. It’s just an ankle…”

He looked down at you, “But I didn’t want to ever hurt you like that and I just did. I couldn’t protect you from myself and I hate myself for it.”

You heart started beating faster and you couldn’t stop your hand from reaching out and cupping his cheek. “I don’t hate you.” You whispered, pulling his face down, you met his lips halfway - finally getting the kiss you always wanted from the man of your dreams. When you pulled away, you placed your forehead against his, “In fact, I kinda really like you.”

He smiled, “Good because I’m so deeply in love with you, that I don’t know what to do with myself.”

Today I painted the entire basement in my house for my parents (they had me paint it HULK GREEN…??). Then they dragged me to a packed restaurant where I had so many panic attacks I think I nearly died. I clearly have people issues.

Enjoy this fic and keep an eye out for that CIVIL WAR TRAILER TODAY :)

Imagine you are a new member of the avengers and Pietro takes you captive

“You coming newbie?” Natasha’s voice broke my train of thoughts from looking out the black jets window as the clouds faded. Giving her a nod to assure her I heard her question, I went back to looking out the window.

I was the new recruit for the Avengers, sadly the youngest also, everyone else was in their mid thirties, except for the Captain, obviously, but hey, who knew an old man could look so sexy after seventy two years?

Obviously not happy with my simple head nod, Natasha walked over leaving Bruce at the pilot’s seat. “Hey, everything okay?” She asked in a low voice sitting in the empty seat beside me.


“Oh c’mon, I work for S.H.I.E.L.D for years and lying was my number one job.”

Natasha was right, I sucked at lying, one of my many failures since I joined the team.

“I just don’t think me coming on this mission was a good idea.” I admitted hanging my head low.

“Hey don’t worry,” Steve began as he put the shield on his arm, “You’ll be with Natasha and you’ll be fine. And besides, learning on the job is probably the best way for you to see how everything is done.”

Steve was right, I was better with hands on kinda job, but still the thought about screwing up the mission with my presence still stabbed and poked at my heart like a piece of dead meat.

Once the jet landed Steve put his helmet on and strapped it into place, Natasha put her new gloves on and gave Bruce a kiss on the cheek along with a soft smile. Glancing over my shoulder, Clint tucked the small picture of his kids and soon to be non-pregnant wife.

“Alright Avengers, let’s get to work, Thor and Tony are already taking down the protective shield. The task is simple, get in, get Loki’s spear, and get out. Clint, you’re with me, Natasha, you got the newbie.”

I groaned and stood up in my tight black body suit that clung to my figure a little too well, “I have a name you know.”

Steve gave me a playful smirk and nudge my shoulder making my frown fade into a smile.

“Alright kids, enough flirting I’m getting airsick from it.” Tony dramatically gagged into our earpieces make Steve and I turn a bright shade of pink.

Outside the building everything was too quiet, slowly walking behind Natasha a sudden pain shot my left thigh, “Shit!” I curse as a spot of blood began growing bigger, “Natasha go!” I yelled as soldiers of Striker ran down the hillside shooting at us.

“Capt! We’re getting shot up out here! Tell me Tony has the damn shield down!” I ask in a panicked voice as Natasha pushed me behind a bolder. Quickly observing my leg she sighed, “Newbies been shot.”

I roll my eyes as Steve came on, “Natasha take the left side of the hill out… Newbie?”

I could almost hear the playful smile in his voice, “Old man?”

“You go inside the building once Stark takes the shield down.”

“On it old man.” I said and got up as Natasha nodded for me to go.

Pumping my arms and legs as fast as a wounded one could go I ran and cursed under my breath seeing the shield was still up, “TONY!”

“Working on it Newbie.” He said as he zoomed over head making me look up.

“You better hurry before I come up there and kick your-”

Before I could finish the shield went down as I saw Tony descend into the top of the building where the spear was. Running inside I stopped as the huge metal door slammed shut behind me, and in front of me was a girl.

Tilting my head to get a better look at her in the dark, her long brunette hair waved over her shoulders like a blanket, but that wasn’t what struck me, her eyes… They were red.

“What do you think?” She asked as if she knew what I was thinking, her voice had a thick Russian accent as her fist began radiating a red glow making em step back.

“Oh? You weren’t trained for this were you?” She asked in a playful curious tone, although she knew.

Reaching up to warn the team with my earpiece it wasn’t there, had it fallen out while I was running? I shivered as cold air blew against my neck but I ignored it. “So you are Striker’s little experiment huh?” I ask in a cocky voice.

Without warning my head began throbbing, it felt like a bat was smashing against my head repeatedly with no mercy. I could make out a screeching sound, but I soon realized it was coming from me. I was  screaming in pain as loud as my voice would allow me.

My legs began shaking as warm drips of blood began dripping from my nose until I couldn’t take it any longer. My body sank down to the floor but it never hit.

The dark haired girl stared at her brother who caught the enemy who fainted, his crystal blue eyes staring her down as he lifted her up into his arms as if she weighed nothing. “Wanda…” He began with the same tick accent that would melt away anyone's heart, the brunette but she shook her head, “Pietro she is the enemy!”

He sighed but nodded glancing back at the unconscious girl in his arms. “Ultron will be waiting. Go.”