Latest Posts by stalecheetoh - Page 6
I don't think we can 'lmao' our way out of this one, girls.
reblog the money gubler for 13 years of good luck and wealth
Clyde, instead of hiding from Bonnie (new kitten), is following her around making sure she stays out of trouble. He’s watching her like he watches our roomba. I’m so confused about this mood change he went from “HISS” to “don’t die”
I feel like he is now thinking “I was not prepared for this responsibility of a kitten please don’t die”
also have a picture of them together
Bruce: What’s wrong?
Y/N: *Takes long drag of cigarette*
Y/N: My sketchers don’t light up anymore.
sam wilson deserves better
He wants to be your Valentine 🖤
Imagine: Bucky wants to be your valentine 💝
Pairing: Bucky x Reader
Written on my phone.
Warnings: Fluff
Bucky met you a few weeks ago at an all night diner, the kind with cheap greasy food prepared by a grizzled chef, who's been around longer than you been alive, putting out meals that tastes better than any so called five star restaurant could ever make.
It had been raining that first night, the pattering on the glass window by your booth was mesmerizing, soothing.
You didn't notice him then but he noticed you.
You were tapping a French fry on your lips, eyes focused on the sheets of raining falling so hard they bounced on the ground.
He noticed your 'not quite a smile'-twist of your lips you gave to the man across from you. How you withdrew your hand when he touched you. He noticed how you slouched in the seat, deflating when he spoke to you. How the life seemed to drain from your eyes when you looked away from the window.
He came back the next night. You were back in the same booth wearing ceil blue scrubs, the man across from you in jeans and a hoodie. Your eyes landed on Bucky, catching him mid stare. Bucky felt embarrassed until you smiled at him. You stared back as if you were trying to place him, unable to break away until jackass across from you snapped his fingers in your face.
He listened to argument that followed, silently agreeing with everything you said. While he hates that you're upset and is more than willing to shove jackass through the window, you're holding your own, snapping off fiery retorts.
He likes that.
He likes you.
Two more nights pass, and he finds himself back at the diner, giving a not so nonchalant shrug when the waitress, Martha, according to her cracked name tag, gives him a knowing look and a " the food ain't that good, son."
He sits one booth closer. You're alone tonight, an open book beside your plate. More fries, more lip tapping. You must be at a good part in your book because you've been biting into that fry for five minutes now.
It's cute. He likes that too.
When Martha sets his food down a little too hard you look up at the clatter. He's staring again, he should work on that. He was the world's best assassin for 70 some years yet he keeps getting caught by you.
He kinda likes that. Cant say why.
The idea of you getting one up on him is intriguing.
You give him a shy smile, ducking your head before he can respond. He turns back to his food. You pick up your book.
Martha groans.
A few weeks pass, you stop by every night, sometimes in scrubs, other times in jeans or legging. He doesn't care. You're pretty in everything.
Every so often, he sits one booth closer. Each time, you look over the top of your book and stare. Waiting for something, the same thing he's waiting for. You both know yet it ends the same each time. He reads the menu for the hundredth time and you find a new fry to tap against your lips.
One night he was approaching the diner, he saw you in your spot with the same worn book in your hand. He didn't notice Martha forcing two truck drivers three times her size out of the booth next to yours.
She grabbed his hand before the door shut closed, the little bell still dinging when she pushed him down on to the smooth leather seats. She shoved herself next to him, grabbing the super soldier by the ear, hissing. "I dont have time for this, you go and talk to her tonight, you understand me son."
She's gone before he can respond. Your abrupt giggle is music to his sore ears-one of them very sore. It was a short and low noise but he heard it. He peers over the booth, chin sliding over cracked vinyl. There you are. Your face buried in the book, your cheeks puffed out as you try not laugh, your shoulders shaking. It's cute.
He really likes that. He wishes he could hear more of your laughter.
But he slumps back down. Ignoring the death glares from Martha. The chef, Frank, throwing up his stained apron before stomping back into the kitchen.
He's almost home when it hits him. Jerkface hasn't been back for a while now. Oh, he likes that. He loves that. Maybe. No. But then again, you might like him. No. Maybe. Things were easier in the 40's.
But they didn't make em like you in the 40's
The next night, the diner is the same except for the large tacky pink heart glued to the front door. Happy Valentines Day scrawled on the front in black sharpie.
Valentines Day.
His heart drops, you wouldn't be here tonight, you probably have a date. He turns to leave, searching his pocket for his keys.
"Oh no, you don't son."
Bucky can punch through a car without a second thought. Kick a man 60 feet in the air but he can't stop a chubby 5'1" old woman with arthritic hands from yanking him inside an even older diner.
She shoves him into your booth, startling both of you. Slapping her wrinkled hands on the table, pointing at him. "You talk to her today gahdamn it and that asshole she was dating made her cry." She leans her small chubby face into his, more threatening than anyone he's fought before. "You make her cry, ill kill you". She could, she really could.
Martha points that finger at you and you nearly flinch. "And you, get over that asshole, you were too good for him, good riddance, stop hiding behind this book, you and I both know you're not reading it and talk to him." She ends her rant with another slap on the table, taking your book from your hands.
With matching wide eyes, you both stare as she walks away, shouting, "and don't bother me, I'm not bringing you food until I feel like it."
Bucky turns back to you with a shaky breathy. He's rehearsed meeting you many times in his head, even planning it with Sam. This was not in any of his scenarios. He's trying not to panic. This is scarier than any battle. He drums his fingers on the table. You tap your toes on the edge on the booth, shaking your leg.
"Hey."
"Hey."
He thinks about what old him would say to you. Then again old him is gone and new him, well, he wants you to like new him.
"I'm James but friends call me Bucky"
You smile, a burst of literal sunshine, he can feel his face warming from it or it could be his nerves easing a bit, he really can't tell. Maybe a little of both when you say, "Hi Bucky."
He likes that. His name on your tongue.
He talks and listens, you do the same. A slow hesitant dance, both stumbling and stepping on each other until a rhythm clicks in place. Then you really talk, a conversation building, time nonexistent, secrets spill and he learns more about you than he imagined he would.
Then you laugh, he’s not sure how he did it but damn it he wants try again and see if works.
It does.
He makes you laugh again. And then again. Over a plate burgers that an ecstatic, kinda smug Martha slide in between you two during a debate over why he should upgrade his phone. A flip phone is not new tech, Bucky. What do you mean you only need to call people, that's not what phones are for anymore.
Then the topic winds around to jerkface and you sigh. A watery forlorn shimmer in your eyes, for a second he wonders if you miss him. Then you explain what he did to you with your best friend.
Bucky moves around to your side, putting his arm around you. You lay your head on his shoulder, whispering "some mess I am huh?"
He kissed the top of your head, "nah I think you're fantastic, doll." The endearment slipping out.
You like it.
"You don't know me," you protest as if you're not pushing your face closer to take a deeper whiff of his cologne.
"Then tell me about you," he retorts, "because I already like you,"
By the time, Martha deems you worthy of deserts, a piece of cake and slice of pie, one milkshake with two straws and a rather vulgar wink, you know him and he knows you.
"Happy Valentine's Day." He smiles with a smudge of whip cream across his kissable lips.
He promises to call you tomorrow and before you get home, your phone buzzes. "Good night, doll"
Another buzz by the time you get in bed. "You're right about the phone it took me 20 minutes to send you that text message."
The second date was spent an Apple store. The third at the movies, the forth was a walk in the park, an actual walk in the park-he's bit old-fashioned after all, the fifth was ambushed by his friends much to his indignation and your delight. By the sixth date, you were head over heels for him.
Martha and Frank invited themselves to your wedding before you had the chance to ask them. Actually before he even proposed they planned out the entire thing on an old menu and some napkins.
Each year you spend Valentines Day in your booth. With him. Over a plate of greasy fries and laughter.
𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 𝐂𝐎𝐃𝐄
written by kageyuji
⦿⦿⦿
𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 — Akaashi has had a crush on you from the moment he met you; the most he ever acted on those feelings was when he became your best friend. Bokuto didn’t think it would have caused so much trouble to introduce you to Kuroo.
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Kuroo x Reader x Akaashi
𝐓𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞: Friends to lovers, angst
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: jealousy, hints at underage drinking, sexual jokes/innuendos, swearing
𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐬: they/them
𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬: finished
⦿⦿⦿
𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐬 \|/ 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐩
chapter 1 ‣ the past
chapter 2 ‣ empathy is wisdom
chapter 3 ‣ timezones
chapter 4 ‣ akaashi’s foot kink
chapter 5 ‣ y/n is bread
chapter 6 ‣ ground rules
chapter 7 ‣ promise
chapter 8 ‣ not a drill
chapter 9 ‣ one of you
chapter 10 ‣ a chance
chapter 11 ‣ bzzzzz
chapter 12 ‣ breaking point
chapter 13 ‣ annie wahyze
[AKAASHI] [KUROO]
chapter 14 ‣ goodbye chapter 14 ‣ i shan’t
chapter 15 ‣ did i ask? chapter 15 ‣ arson
chapter 16 ‣ visible anxiety chapter 16 ‣ ty
chapter 17 ‣ telling him chapter 17 ‣ ice cream
chapter 18 ‣ wrong picture chapter 18 ‣ whore
chapter 19 ‣ found it chapter 19 ‣ leg surgery
chapter 20 ‣ better chapter 20 ‣ promise (pt 2)
a collection of a fifty+ part storyline aiming to give Loki the happy ending that he deserved.
— PAIRING: Loki x fem!reader
— WARNINGS: drabbles have their various warnings. everything from suggestive quips to heart wrenching angst, with a majority of ridiculously fluffy goodness.
— NOTES: i write everything out of order! what started as drabbles started connecting and became this. i do not own any rights to Loki or the MCU, nor receive any profit from these works. this is just writing for my own educational, nonprofit purposes!
this story is incomplete. i have a million drafts and requests in the works that will be filling in many of the gaps in this storyline as well as continuing it. thank you so very much for your support, comments and feedback truly, truly keep me going! happy reading!
it’s complicated
~~ shawarma
~~ nipnops
~~ is that—is that stubble??
~~ enemies to fake lovers
~~ don’t you dare
~~ coworkers
~~ loki just wants his snickers
~~ put on a smile, pork chop
~~ there was only one chair
~~ spilt coffee
~~ lunch break
~~ don’t touch me
~~ mind games
~~ softer sides
~~ people like you?
~~ that’s my boyfriend
~~ …progress?
~~ let me bleed
~~ haircuts and interrogations
** more coming soon between these**
~~ what is this?
~~ a drunken confession (possible placeholder)
** more coming soon between these**
~~ i want you (au)
in a relationship
~~ first-ish date
~~ favourite hoodie
~~ celebrity crush
~~ loki’s library
~~ thor.
~~ sunflowers
~~ loki’s sense of humor
~~ thankful for you
~~ november first
~~ attempt number one
~~ evil nose
~~ i’m going to marry you
~~ the proposal—wait no, jk
~~ dance lessons
~~ ormstunga
~~ a proposal
married
~~ not-so-royal wedding
~~ the morning after
~~ i licked it, so it’s mine
~~ second time’s the charm
~~ true form
~~ nicknames and braids
~~ quarantine
~~ definition of perfection
~~ getting ready
~~ valentine’s day
~~ an office visit
~~ disgusting domesticity
~~ love is pain (au)
~~ nipples.
~~ home late
~~ gingerbread messes
~~ i miss you, you know.
~~ easy like a sunday morning
~~ jealous kisses
~~ i’m in pain. period.
~~ safety dance
~~ do you want to have a baby?
we’re expecting
~~ i’m pregnant…
~~ appreciation
~~ you’re not driving.
~~ elliot?
~~ loki’s sleepy :’)
~~ nursery painting, ‘nuff said
proud father of a dumbass kid
~~ unexpected
~~ elliot.
~~ dusted (au)
~~ baby fever
~~ first time in asgard
~~ baby’s first christmas
~~ ah-loo!
~~ kings don’t change diapers
~~ dentist trip
~~ tessi the tesseract
~~ syrupy slip-up
~~ foot massage
~~ true loves kiss…blegh.
~~ hide n seek
~~ the mini-asgardians
~~ you’re not dying.
~~ you lost your kid?
~~ i saw mommy kissing santa claus
~~ tired + horny parents
~~ disneyland
~~ little monster
~~ lonely
we’re expecting more
~~ don’t tell dad.
~~ the Question
~~ like real people do
~~ microwave baby
~~ simple-thee pains
~~ peppermint and tears
proud father of two dumbass kids
~~ frigg.
~~ mortality
~~ frigg’s favourite
~~ bappy hirthday, momma
~~ frigg made me do it
~~ bad timing
~~ pantless prince
~~ blue
~~ a good friend
~~ morgan potts-stark
~~ so there’s this girl.
~~ a study in hands
~~ frostbite prevention
greater expectations
~~ ew, Elliot, that’s gross
~~ ew, Elliot, that’s still gross
~~ the twins!! (au)
* * * * * * *
fuel the writer? :’)
you’re all incredible and every ounce of support you give is just more fuel to this writing fire, which means more content for you!!
Captain Human Eater
Peter: Mr Stark, what's a humanitarian?
Tony: *Completely stoned* It's like a vegetarian but they eat humans.
Peter: *Slowly turning to Steve* You make me sick.
just in time : s.r
returning the stones isn’t steve’s only mission whilst he’s gone; he has one final mission of his own - to find his long lost lover, you, before it’s too late (2.5k)
(anything in bold/italics are flashbacks/memories!)
masterlist / permanent taglist
(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website without being credited, it has not been approved to be shared by me. all rights reserved.)
Panting heavily, you bend down, resting your hands on your thighs as you feel a burn course through them whilst Bucky laughs at you.
“Did you seriously run here?” Bucky asks, Steve now facing you too, surprised to see you.
Holding a finger up, you take one final deep breath before composing yourself. “Of course,” You breathe out. “I didn’t wanna miss the start of it, had to get here on time.” You smile, practically beam to Steve who shyly smiles back.
“I mean you’re fifteen minutes late, doll.” Bucky comments, ignoring Steve’s weak punch to his arm. “Sorry.”
“You haven’t missed a thing, Y/n.” Steve assures you as he steps forward, holding his arm out as his jacket swarms his upper body.
Despite the mud coating the hem of your skirt that hides various bruises and a sheen of sweat lining your forehead, Steve still adores you completely, no matter how often you’re late for things.
“I’d be honoured.” You giggle, looping your arm with Steve’s as the three of you make your way into the dance hall.
Standing on the podium, Steve can feel his grip tightening on the case as Bruce, Sam and Bucky watch him closely.
“Ready Cap?” Bruce calls out as Steve’s suit changes to white and red, contrasting the previous dark tones. “Alright, we’ll meet you back here.” He adds, and Steve nods.
It’s the moment he’s anticipated for too long, ever since he woke up from the ice.
Keep reading
GUYS MY MOM SAID IF I GET 40, 000 NOTES SHE'LL GET ME SWORD
PLEASE
This is the Baby Money Yoda, reblog in the next 60 seconds of seeing this to receive a blessing from our green bean prince.
Reblog or your mom will die in 928 seconds.
I love my mom.
I am risking nothing
I AM SORRY FOLLOWERS, I LOVE MY MOMMY
Will not risk.
sorry followers :(
reader insert fic i’d be reading: my pale skin flushed pink at his stare
my tan, brown, latina self:
the user base of tumblr is a specific demographic of people who were ‘the smart kid’ growing up but didn’t do as well academically as they got older due to mental health struggles, were probably bullied in school and were quite lonely & introverted so they took solace in reading but now rarely pick up a book, grew up on tumblr but continued using it into adulthood unlike most of their peers who stopped using it after it lost popularity
I cannot express to you how heartbroken and absolutely livid I am. The fact that there are literal tears in his eyes, and you can see how broken and hurt he is by all of these shitty, ugly people spreading shitty, ugly late, is completely unacceptable. For him and for anyone even remotely close to going through the struggle of your own body fighting against you.
Acne is uncontrollable. It hurts. It’s annoying. The desperation that it can bring to just get rid of you can ruin your fucking day, week, or month if you let it. But it’s also: NORMAL. Everyone and their MOM gets acne, or has had some sort of breakout. It’s a part of life. It doesn’t matter how old or young, rich or poor, dirty or clean you are, it: happens. It’s a normal bodily function. The pores build up and betray us and there’s nothing we can do but treat it and give it it’s due time.
The works is light years beyond what it was before, but it’s still so shitty and so much more extensive now. To search your own name on Twitter and see those auto filled results has to be gut wrenching, and we know how strong Ethan is but I know he’s putting on a brave face for all of us becuase he wants to make a better impact with it. Even then, he’s worried about the people he cares about, the people he can help, before himself. He’s better than me. He’s too nice for blurring out that person’s name. Too respectful. That just proves the kind of man he is.
But the glossiness of those hazel eyes I’ll never forget and I’ll never forgive. If you’ve ever put someone down for their complexion, you’re the scum of the earth and you’re the ugliest of us all. Yes there’s bumps on his face but he’s still the most beautiful person I’ve ever laid eyes on, and the most beautiful soul I’ve ever encountered. He makes this world a better place, and he gives me hope for those kids that are younger and that are going through this and that are malleable and can understand that it’s okay to embrace our imperfections and that beauty isn’t skin deep after all.
Ethan, you’re gorgeous. You’re strong. You’re amazing. You’re a hero. I keep saying that. Keep that heart of a lion roaring inside you. The world needs it.
To the best of us. Cheers. #EthanDolanIsBeautiful
And In this corner coming in at 200 lbs Grayson Morherfucking Dolan has entered the chat to shut this shit down
“young adult dystopian novels are so unrealistic lmao like they always have some random teenage girl rising up to inspire the world to make change.”
a hero emerges
anyone else fucking LOVE BEING IN BED???
