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@katzxki

20 she/they
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gintokiarts

BAKUGO HEADERS

— [¥] ; please like or reblog if u save ©®

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the-arisen

MS MARVEL.

  • pls, or reblog if you like or save.
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kwtara

imbalance part 2 and 3 icons

↳  suki ✧
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annicon

↠   katsuki bakugou icons + headers ~♡ like/reblog if you save  © on twitter @mewseok

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Anonymous asked:

u know what else is a good ship?? REALLY CURSED??? LIKE LIFE ENDING????????????????????? nakia and t'challa

we-

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Anonymous asked:

could you do #35 from the cliché prompts with bucky? :)

I most certainly can! <3

“Do you trust me?” w/ Bucky Barnes

(In a world where Tony never died)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ready or not, here I come!” you hear Bucky call from the back porch of Tony’s cabin home.

Pepper had asked you and Bucky to babysit Morgan for the weekend while her and Tony took some time for little getaway. Of course Tony had been apprehensive about Bucky being around his daughter for a weekend, but he was more open to the idea knowing you’d be around.

Which brings you to your current situation. Here you were, perched up in a tree with Morgan, shushing her little laughs whilst trying to stifle your own as Bucky roamed the backyard searching for you both.

He scoured behind shrubs and bushes and even searched under the porch, growing increasingly confused when he came up empty handed. “Okay, literally where are you guys?” he asked to the open air as he walked directly under your branch.

Morgan covered her mouth to hold in her laugh as you picked an acorn directly above your head. “Should I throw it?” you mouthed, pantomiming throwing the acorn at Bucky. Morgan nodded excitedly, pointing to her head. You closed one eye and took aim at the back of Bucky’s head. You gently threw the acorn.

Ponk. Bucky spun wildly, raising a hand to the back of his head. “What in the—“ He stopped midsentence when he saw a tiny red sneaker looming above him. He took several steps back until he saw you and Morgan giggling quietly. “Oh, come on! That’s cheating!” The two of you broke your silence and laughed out loud, Bucky’s smile growing at the jovial moment. After a moment, he held his arms up to the girls. “Alright, alright. Time to get down.”

Your stomach dropped. In the midst of the fun, you’d forgotten that you’re actually afraid of heights. How Morgan had managed to convince you up the tree was beyond anyone’s comprehension, but you surely regretted it.

Morgan, however, showed no apprehension jumping down from branch and into Bucky’s arms. He caught her as if she weighed nothing and set her gently on the ground. “Your turn, (Y/N),” he coaxed, arms ready and open. When you bit your lip and gripped the branch tighter, Bucky tilted his head. “What’s wrong?”

“I, uh...” you started, “I... I-I’m... I’m scared...”

“‘Scared’?” he questioned with a smirk. When you shrugged, Bucky laughed. “Well, why did you go up there then?”

“Don’t logic me!” You threw another acorn at his chest.

Bucky laughed again, still holding his arms up. “Just close your eyes and drop. I promise I’ll catch you.” You groaned anxiously, leaning your body forward to hug the branch.

Bucky softened his eyes and tone. “Hey, do you trust me?” You looked into his icy gaze, feeling ashamed that you actually questioned how much you trusted him. He’d never given you a reason to not trust him. In fact, he’s saved your life more times than you could count, you completely trust him with it. You nodded. “Then just drop down. I got you, doll, I promise.”

You bit your lip. Here goes everything. You squeezed your eyes shut and held your breath, twisting off the branch and sending yourself into a free fall backwards. You let out a small yelp when you made impact with Bucky’s arms and body. When you didn’t hit the ground, you peeled one eye open, then the other. You looked up at Bucky who was smiling smugly at you while he held you bridal style, then over to Morgan who continued to giggle. You furrowed your brows.

“What are you laughing at, tater tot?” you asked her roughly, only earning more giggles from her. You broke your facade and smiled, giggling with her.

“Why don’t we go inside and have some lunch? We can watch your favorite cartoon, kid.” Bucky suggested through giggles of his own.

Morgan jumped for joy and ran inside. Bucky followed suit, still carrying you in his arms. “You can let me down now. I’m not scared of walking.” you commented.

“But the stairs go up pretty high,” he teased. You swatted his chest and he laughed, but he still didn’t let you down.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I had this in my ask box forEVER! I am so sorry for getting this out JUST NOW. I hope you enjoy it!

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katzxki

ahhhh this was so cute!! 🥺

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5 Seconds - chap. 1 | Steve Rogers

TW: Self-harm and suicidal thoughts

It’s weird how the future can change in five seconds. In five seconds a simple action changes the course of the future. In five seconds you could be one step closer to death. In five seconds, you could never meet the one you really loved. 

I was the weird, outcast kid who nobody talked to. I was the person everyone forgot about. I was the ghost at school, nobody looked at me, they just simply acted like I didn’t exist. They just simply walk past me, not giving me a glance. I could be dying and nobody would do anything because why would they talk to the kid who is always alone? 

I’d sit on the toilet seat at lunch, scrolling through my phone, seeing happy people with their friends on a Thursday night partying, having fun. Without me. 

I wish I was them. Happy, not a care in the world. But I wasn’t ‘normal’. A normal person doesn’t get hospitalised for mental breakdowns. A normal person doesn’t have multiple files under their name just because you starve yourself to death. A normal person doesn’t want to die so young when they not even an adult yet. 

Steve was the only friend I had. He didn’t go to the same school as me but he was my childhood friend and without him, I felt like there wasn’t really a reason to live. He was a ray of sunshine in a storm. He was my only piece of hope. 

“You what?” 

“I’m moving. Tomorrow. Dad’s got a new job.” Steve repeats himself to me. “I know this is such a late time to say this, Y/N, but I got a major scholarship as well, I can’t miss this opportunity. I’m sorry…”

N-no. He can’t be. What about the pact we made when were young teenagers? ‘We would be always together, even through the bad times?’

“You deserve to be happy. Don’t be sorry, be proud of yourself, you got a major scholarship.” I force a smile on my face, slowly dying inside, “Remember me when you get famous. I’ll see ya on the other side, Rogers.”

A day after Steve left. 

I can’t eat and I can’t sleep. I try to force myself, but I just can’t. I can’t work as a normal human being anymore. It’s like all the happiness inside me has been sucked out, and has left an empty shell of a person, full of sadness and pain.

Someone please help me walls are caving in, I can’t breathe. No medicine is strong for me, I’m crawling under my skin, someone please help me, the walls are caving in, I can’t breathe. I feel like giving up. 

Someone help me…please…

Laying on my bedroom floor,  feeling overwhelmed, I eyed the razor sitting on the desk next to my bed. I promised myself I wouldn’t cut myself after what happened. But I wanted to. I wanted to grab the razord and slowly cut my cuts open, feeling the sweet relief of blood falling down my arms. Wanting to for once to be in control of my pain and my emotions. Wanting to relieve the emotional numbness inside me. I wanted to feel the pain.

I don’t really have a reason to love anymore. Everyone won’t care that I have  gone anyways, they’ll just spare me a single tear at my funeral, and then forget about me a day later. I won’t be missed dearly. 

Nobody will miss poor me. So might as well take the final jump, just to stop the pain once and for all.

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evavalor
Anonymous asked:

Do you write for Steve x Natasha? If so is there any chance you'd do something where one of them has a nightmare?

“Natasha!”

Her leg comes up - a futile kick at the hand that grabs it. She splutters something in Russian, thrashes under the duvet.

“Open your eyes,Tasha. You’re okay.” Steve takes her face in his hands, frowns when she flinches but strokes his thumbs over her cheeks to calm her.

Her hands are above her head, gripping the headboard, but she’s struggling against her own grip. He realises where she thinks she is.

“Nat, sweetheart,” he coos, “You gotta look at me.”

Her eyes snap open, flick around the room rapidly. She settles on his concerned face above her, gasps because it’s Steve but whimpers, thrashes some more because they’ve handcuffed her to the bed again.

Steve sits back, gives her room so she can move. “Baby, you’re with me.” He watches as she looks up at her hands, realises the position she’s in. “You can move, it’s okay.”

Most nights, Nat wakes up in a panic and lashes out. She’s been trained to wake up instantly, ready to defend herself against lurking threats. Tonight, however, there is nothing but pure fear in her eyes. She doesn’t lash out at Steve; she reaches out for him again, tears overflowing.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he rushes, hauls her into his lap and sighs because his poor girl is in so much pain. “I’ve got you, Nat, you’re safe.”

Her sobs are loud, tearing through her throat, and she grips Steve’s shirt tightly in an attempt to let the pain out. Her cries go through him. It hurts his heart.

“You’re safe, Tasha, it’s all okay.” He frowns at the little gasps she’s letting out against his neck. “Come on, baby, deep breaths. It’s okay.” She shakes her head, murmuring and whimpering. “Yes, you can,” he assures, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead, “Nice deep breaths for me, Tasha. You can do it.”

She nods against him, listens to his breaths, feels the soft thud of his heart beneath her ear - tells herself it’s okay; she’s okay because it’s Steve.

“That’s my girl,” he smiles, running a hand through her hair, “You’re doing so well, Nat.”

She loosens her grip on his shirt, arms going around his waist instead. Steve strokes her hair gently.

It’s on nights like these that Natasha is reminded of just how in love she is with Steve. She wouldn’t blame him if he up and left: ran a mile in fear of what goes on in her mind. But every time, without fail, he looks after her - holds her so gently and brings her back to him. She thinks he must be absolutely perfect. Steve knows he’s just in love with her.

“Do you need some water?” he whispers.

She shakes her head violently, grips his shirt even tighter. Don’t leave me.

“Okay, okay,”he hushes, stroking her hair once again, “I’ll stay right here, it’s okay.”

Steve knows she could probably do with a shower, a glass of water too. But, for now, he’ll just hold her until she’s ready to move.

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grysbsom

New Beginnings with Broken Endings- Bucky Barnes x OC Prologue

Heh. I did it- personally, I’ve never found Sebastian Stan or Bucky attractive when I first watched The Winter Soldier, then I rewatched it (Disney+ perks y’all. Get it. That’s an order not a request lol.) and I spat out my drink, “daDDY???!” There are 2 Canadian history references because like why the hell not. (The name Viola- comes from Viola Desmond and the fact that she was alive in this time, and she did move to New York after her Halifax trial ended, so it’s literally real life canon. Also the Halifax Explosion- I’m from Nova Scotia lol. Y’all didn’t need to know that, sorry.)

Words: 2.3k

Enjoy!

~

1942

There was always a certain way to how things started.

Squabbles over bright red lipstick, a tube or two always ending up staining the bright orange walls of our quaint little home. I never really regretted moving in with Eleanor- yeah sure, maybe I was constantly third-wheeling her activities and moping over the fact that my application to university had been rejected, while my best friend was one of the most in-demand wedding planners in all of Brooklyn, despite the war. No idea why anyone would want to get married in such a dismal time, but here we were.

“Dria? Where’d you put the- oh, nevermind, found it,” Eleanor muttered, and I resisted a giggle. This particular night, we were going out dancing. For the first time in a while, too: Ellie had been so torn down by her work and I was still trying to keep the damn apartment up from all of these unfair rations when a certain guy, James, had found me outside of the bank. Our conversation had flowed so easily that the double date had simply slid into place, only after a half-hour of him following me to one of the few grocery stores open with my new loan. All was set for tonight after a week of preparation. Ellie was to meet his friend Steve alongside me and James, while I secretly tasked myself to not perish from the anxiety. We had a loan to pay back, we were half-starving from the rotting meat that was our rations, and in my desperation, I had started thinking about enlistment in the army. It was absolutely crazy, and I knew it. Ellie just said that memories of my father had brought this weird urge on, especially at this time. It was a dead end too- I couldn’t seek out anything stronger than aspirin without being a disgrace.

“The powder?” I asked urgently, twirling between the narrow hallways, makeup brush in hand. I came to a stop, peering into our bathroom, which was in disarray with our curling irons and trademark American lipstick (okay, it was a trend and practically an unspoken dress code for women, military or not). Eleanor’s spare fabric covered the dusty window like a tarp and cast a somber light over everything, including herself. It was protocol- if there was an explosion anywhere in New York, our glass was bulletproof and we’d be protected. “Thank you,” I said shortly, noticing the product and wiping my brush against the dinner plate that held the face powder. Makeup was hard to come by these days, but fortunately for us, our “supplier”- an old woman named Viola- was still out on the street in her little booth, rain or shine, war or peace. It didn’t matter if people belittle me for the colour of my skin, she had once said, her makeup was still going to be here.

“What time did Barnes ask us to meet him and the friend?” Ellie said to me, sparing a glance at my face. Eleanor could naturally do things effortlessly: she had that innocent look with her ghostly pale skin and blonde hair, the colour of the good coffee cream we used to get at the grocery store back in the ‘20s when everything was practically perfect. That hair was currently pinned off of her face in a constellation of bobby pins, and her thin lips were sagged into a pout directed at me, coloured a bright and rebellious red. I gave her the same look. “Dunno, around six o’clock?” This time my face split into a smile as I pushed past her, looking in our cracked mirror as she began to adjust my dress yet again. “You do realize that this is probably going to be a, ‘get in there, get out’ thing, right?” She asked me as she managed to squeeze the folds of skin protecting my spine even closer together, her hands a blur.

It was, really, a beautiful dress: Ellie had dragged an unused wedding gown back here on what must’ve been the rainiest day in Brooklyn, and she managed to change it into something playful and twirly rather than stiff and formal. With one snip here and there and the traumatizing execution of one of my grandmother’s silk scarves, we had an in-style and arguably sensible dress just in time, showing off my legs, which were far from dreamy, and arms, which made me feel like a ghost, presuming that Ellie wouldn’t pull up the back so tight that the fabric would wrinkle and my spine would break, literally killing me. Going to the hospital these days was never fun, no one was admitted.

“Get in and out of what? And you tell me to not act like a harlot,” I laughed, twisting my fingers together. With one of her safe smiles like she’s about to mention my father again, she exited gracefully, leaving me alone to notice everything. The whole bathroom reeked of nail polish and DIY bleach, minus the explosion of makeup products. The person appraising herself in the mirror in the middle of it all looked like an alien, but at least she was a tall and pretty thing: the thick brown hair that was a nightmare to everyone at the barber’s was straightened to damaging point, but you could never tell because of Ellie’s magic with a modern version of braids. I looked like a royal or maybe a movie star, especially when the dress paid off in the end.

“Alexandria! We’re late!”

I paused, trying to fiddle with another bobby pin as quickly as I could, one foot wedged between the door and its frame. “Alexandria!” Ellie repeated herself after a second, “Unless you want a part two of the Halifax Explosion, you better come quick!” Her voice was harsh. Ever since the second World War started, she was making more and more references to her heritage with each year, even if she was only a baby during that particular event. She would probably be arrested if she spoke this way in public, which is the whole reason for the “innocent” image, but not when she was with me. As long as we don’t talk about her Canadian citizenship, we don’t talk about my failures. Only the present and the future. It’s a safe part of our friendship- she was scary now though.

“Coming, coming!” I called back, blowing a kiss at the mirror before kicking the door open fiercely. Women’s rights, after all, Ellie was always quick to say, even if we’re still restricted. “If it’s at the time you say,” Eleanor says breathlessly, “You’re one hundred percent gonna owe me a sandwich after this.” There it was again, the same patronizing tone that she used when I blurted out that I wanted to join the army. She looked down at me as I grabbed my heels. “You’re taking care of the second date,” I managed to say suggestively, the confidence fizzling briefly before dying completely. I stomped my feet into the footwear, disturbing a small pile of dust. I started to pull on my coat too, the shoulderpads already bulky and uncomfortable against my own shoulders. I never really got over the fact that they were uneven.

“I mean, have you seen the man? He’s gorgeous, isn’t he?” I started to ramble as we left the apartment, descending down the stairs. Ellie took the time to disturb and then fix her hat, over and over, again and again, choosing not to answer my question except for a small smile. I tried not to stare at her, even though we were the exact same height. It was hard not to- which almost immediately meant that I was confident. I couldn’t remember feeling this way, really and truly, for a long time. The war snuffed everything out. That way, if I was feeling the way I thought I was feeling, it wouldn’t last for long.

“Dria,” Ellie began as we started walking down the street, our eyes glued to the road in search of a taxi, “What do you think Steve looks like?” she asked me seriously as we managed to flag one down. The place we were going was just off of Broadway, not the shady part though, James had been quick to clarify. I never knew there was a shady part of Broadway. When Ellie had first came here in second grade, all she talked about was theatre, drama, and the shows.

“Hopefully sensible,” I sighed as the driver began to navigate our way through Brooklyn. “It’d be nice if he was James’ height, like…” I trailed off, wary of the driver, and reach for her hand instead to make up for the lost word, us. It was fluid- I gave her a reassuring pump and released it. One time someone on the street had called us lesbians- it had shocked me so much that I didn’t have anything to say. It was one of the only times Ellie had came out of the innocent image too, considering she held all of the authority because we had been standing outside of her office. We’ll present ourselves however way we please, she had said smartly, and promptly dragged me away.

“Thank you so much,” Ellie said kindly, fishing a couple of dollars out of her purse and handing them to the driver, who just grunted gruffly. My dress twirled from above my knees under my coat as we walked, practically skipping. We’ll be waiting by the entrance, James had said with a smile. “He said that Steve was nervous,” I warned her, a fact I had just remembered. I had to do a little bit of convincing, but he’s a good guy, James’ voice sounded in my head. Fortunately, Ellie’s face slipped into a dazed smile, “Great. As long as he has face,’ She murmured, biting her lip. “Where are they?”

“Alexandria?”

My name sounded different on his lips, I immediately noticed.

“James Barnes?” I asked, immediately wanting to drown in my coat as I looked at his face.

It was him, alright, nearly wedged into an alley, way too relaxed as his eyes surveyed the street for us like a floodlight. He was that type of Romeo and Juliet gorgeous that make you want to bet your own life that you’ll do anything for him, die for him, forever and always. He just charmed people like that, I would soon learn, and like my own forever and always, I didn’t want to think of the before. It was inevitable, this wasn’t his first girl, but I just wanted to enjoy that night at the first chance before my time was up. Of course I’d seen him around- everyone saw him, and you’d never catch him. It just never hit me at the time. Stupid anxiety, I cursed myself.

He smiled, and I was positive I heard the ground tremble from underneath my feet. “Do you go by Alex?” He inquired, shoving his hands into his pockets as he noticed me. He was wearing formal pants. Thank God I wasn’t the only one who overstepped- though his friend was nowhere to be seen. My own name was indeed a mouthful- Alexandria Margaret Ann Jerold- so I just went with it. “Dria,” I corrected, trying to smile and finding, with a little horror, that my mouth had gone slack, freezing in its current shape, a blood red line. I wasn’t sure if I could open it without barfing out of anxiety on his freshly-shined shoes.

“Great,” He said, steamrollering on as I tried to hurriedly relearn how to breathe, swallow and produce saliva all at the same time in about three seconds. “You must be Eleanor, right?” He directed at Ellie, who nodded. Her eyes had gone wide, and I knew within a glance that she immediately agreed with me on this man’s physical status. “You can call me Bucky. This is Steve,” James said, doing the introductions and waving a little man forward, and for a second my heart stopped. I forgot how to gain poise.

Steve was definitely not holding himself at the same glamour that “Bucky” did, considering he was stretched thin even under the multiple coats making him look like a marshmallow. He was a few inches shorter than us, an impressive feat considering we were pretty average for women at five foot five. “Hi,” He greeted drily, staring at the ground. “Buck blackmailed me to come,” He added glumly, and for Eleanor’s sake, I tried to evaluate his face. I bounced back and drew myself up to my full height, “Wonderful,” I said while my brain was in turmoil, every word that I knew from the English language evaporating ever-so-suddenly. I knew I sounded stupid, and I looked like I just saw a zombie from the way I was staring: Steve could’ve been attractive if his face wasn’t so squashed and sickly- not to mention being a great deal taller in both directions so his head could fit his face. It wasn’t my place to discriminate against short guys though, so I didn’t say anything.

“Hey,” Eleanor said coolly, possibly let down but she didn’t show it. Her bubbliness was back in an instant.

“Shall we?” Bucky asked me, pivoting on his foot, and for the first time that I remembered, I felt brave. “Of course,” I said in what I hoped was a flirtatious and hard-to-get manner. I turned away while Eleanor made conversation with Steve. Even though I barely knew him, I still felt undoubtedly safe. I’m sure his life had changed in September 1939, too, anyway. Everyone’s did, but I couldn’t shake the fact that I sincerely trusted him. I hadn’t even considered the fact I didn’t know how to dance yet. The fact that Eleanor had shot down my idea of joining the army faded away when we started walking, so close that his knuckles brushed mine constantly. My confidence never evaporated.

We were walking into a new world.

There was always a certain way to how things started, after all.

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