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Summary: Miles Morales is ten years old when his sister Billie is born, and he thinks it’s the best day of his life. He’s a big brother now, and it’s his job to protect her…


So, this happened… I was trying to write the next chapter of HMHH and my mom was watching an old Mexican movie. This sprang up from that movie. It’s not an exact replica of the movie, but I take some inspiration from it. I hope this doesn’t turn into a monster, but I ain’t holding my breath. I’m gonna say a tentative 12 chapters… I hope? 😖

I will add tags as the story progresses, so as not to give too much away.

Read it on AO3.

White Roses For My Sister
Chapter One:
Her Name Is Billie
- - - -
“Settle down, it’ll all be clear
Don’t pay no mind to the demons
They fill you with fear
The trouble it might drag you down
If you get lost, you can always be found

 Just know you’re not alone
‘Cause I’m going to make this place your home…”

~Home - Phillip Phillps
- - - -

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Word Count: 2.1k

Ship: Bucky Barnes x Y/N (platonic to romantic)

Description: You introduce Bucky to Animal Crossing!

Warnings: swearing, fluff :)

A/N: hi sorry ive been dead, enjoy


Originally posted by sleepy-barnes

“Buckyyyyyy!” You groaning, shaking the sleeping beefy figure. You’d been doing this for ten minutes. Every thirty seconds, you’d give him a shove to wake him up. However….he wouldn’t seem to budge. Deciding to wait a few more seconds, you gave him a final shove.


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Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe

Characters: Loki, Reader

Genre: Angst. Enemies to Lovers…sort of. 

AN: Decided to take this trope out for a spin….it was a bit of a ride writing it. Hope you all enjoy!


Originally posted by lokitty-blog1

“Who did this to you?”

Five words you never expected to hear escape from his lips. Him of all people, the one who whenever the two of you would meet on the field of battle would turn and run without a word at the sight of you. The one who would happily take on anyone of your team in a fight and leave them a wreck, the one who seemed to be unnerved by the sight of you.

Not many could claim that a so-called god was afraid of them. But somehow, some way, he seemed to be.

How or why he was you couldn’t say. After all, you were just an ordinary human. Just another member of S.H.I.E.L.D as far as you knew. What was it about you that made an Asgardian who had faced things that no human could imagine stop in his tracks?

Who did this to you?”

The tone in which he asked it was frightening. Though seemingly calm, almost polite, there was such an undercurrent of demonic rage just barely being contained under the surface that words escaped you. This man, this God was supposed to be your adversary. This God had made so many humans tremble in fear, had made it clear years before that he considered the humans on Midgard beneath him. Why did he care that one human was hurt?

Who did this to you?”

What this was, was torment. Having taken an energy blast straight to the chest from an unknown adversary, the blast had sent you through a wall. Not only that, it had left you pinned under so much rubble, you could hardly breath, let alone push it off. You couldn’t even activate your emergency alarm on your side. You were slowly dying with no way to let the others know. The best you could hope for was that it would be over quick.

An unknown amount of time had passed before you heard footsteps. Heavy ones at that. You tried with all your might to scream, to make enough movement that the person, whomever it was might hear you. But it seemed hopeless.

Tears streamed down your face, out of pain, out of frustration. It was the only thing you had the strength to do and even then you hated yourself for it. Not only for feeling weak but for the fact that the others would see it when and if they managed to find your remains.

You were so lost in your own thoughts, thoughts that you were certain would be your last when suddenly, the crushing weight of the debris was lifted off you. You gasped deeply, repeatedly, trying to catch your breath.

But even with the debris gone, the pain remained. You could sense that you had multiple broken bones throughout your body and that would probably be the lightest damage you had suffered. Every movement was agony, at a level you could never imagine, and you shut your eyes in pain and tried not to scream.

Who did this to you?”

The words came, from a voice that was smooth and deep. A voice that sounded almost silky. Silver tongued. A voice that from briefings and from experience you knew only belonged to one person.

Slowly opening your eyes, your heart filled with horror at the sight of the person kneeling beside you. Dressed in his resplendent green, black and gold garments was none other than Loki of Asgard.

You expected him to be smiling. You expected him to gloat at finally having taken you down on the field of battle. You thought to tell him to be quick about it, but the words wouldn’t come forth.

But there was no smile. There was no gloating. There was to your shock the look of someone who’s expression could only be described as tranquil fury.

You didn’t know what to say. You didn’t know the name of the being that had shot you. All you could think of where the last words you heard before

“He said not to harm you. But he isn’t here now.”

As if he heard your thoughts, his face took on a look of resolve. You could sense that he had knew who you were thinking of and he already knew what he planned to do to that person.

You expected him to walk away. Walk away and leave you for the others to find. After all, you were human. You were beneath him, a creature to be ruled by others. Gods didn’t sully themselves with the likes of you.

But this one did.

Wordlessly he reached over and with surprising gentleness, slipped his arms under you and picked you up with a level of strength and easy you never thought possible. Getting to his feet, he held you close as he carried you away from the wreckage.

You didn’t know where he was taking you. You didn’t know why he was doing this. There were so many things you didn’t know, things you could only guess at through the waves of pain that still went through you.

Loki never looked down at you as he carried you, carried you like you were something fragile, something that might crack and fall to pieces at any moment. It would have been apt for you felt as if you might fall apart.

Exhausted from the pain, both mental and physical, you closed your eyes and willed yourself to try and block it all out, but you couldn’t block it. The day was too much, and it wasn’t over yet. Glancing back up at Loki, he kept his eyes forward, his jaw clenched so tightly, you wondered if it might break.

He said nothing to you as he hurried along. Nothing about where he was going or what he was feeling. Through the pain you tried to read his thoughts, tried to pick up any hints from his body language, but nothing was coming together.  

Loki didn’t speak. He didn’t trust himself to speak as he carried you back towards his ship, where he knew he could take you away and have you quickly healed. No words, in any language could describe the fury he felt at that moment, nor could they describe what he had planned for the one who had inflicted all this on you. Only one thing was certain in his mind.

“Someone dies for this.”

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Originally posted by sunoficarus

Summary: Bedtime with Bucky was always the best part of your day, and when he sings those sweet lullabies, you can’t help but fall a little more in love with him. And luck for you, he loves you back with his entire heart.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 656

A/N: This is tiny. Absolutely itty bitty and packed full of tooth rotting fluff to make up for my Steve angst earlier. Please let me know what you think cuz I am so happy with this little piece.

Nights with Bucky were always so heavenly. The perfect end to even the worst of days. The moment you two were alone, you’d fall into your finely tuned routine, moving together in perfect harmony. You practically danced around one another, sweet kisses pressed to cheeks or foreheads, noses or shoulders whenever you were pulled into one another’s gravity. You would both change, taking your time in replacing articles of clothing with others, trading gentle touches for sweet nothings, for sweet everythings, murmured against soft lips. You both took every opportunity to remind each other that you were there, that you weren’t going away.

Once you had changed and washed away the weight of the day, once lights had been turned off and all stress had given way to the comfort of being together, you and Bucky finally settled under the covers. He pulled you closer to him, the slightest whir of his metal arm wrapping around your waist swirled with the warmth of his bare chest pressed strong and sure against your back. He was your constant, your safe haven when the world threatened to tear you apart piece by fragile piece. You knew that Bucky would always be in your bed at the end of every day to piece you back together with all of his sunshine smiles and honey sweet kisses. The softest brush of fingers through your hair and a long kiss at your temple brought you back from your affectionate daze.

“I lost you for a second there.” Bucky mused, nuzzling against you like the puppy he always turned into around you. You smiled a bit as his beard prickled against your cheekbone and his subtle scent wrapped around you like a blanket the closer you snuggled into him. You hummed in reply. “What’s on your mind?”

His voice was soft in a way it never was with anyone else. No longer soft because he was afraid to be full-force Bucky with you, but soft because when he was alone with you he was full-force James Buchanan Barnes, the most gentle man you could’ve been blessed with.

“Just thinking about how lucky I am to have you.” You confessed, turning your head to look at him. It was easy to let your eyes adjust to the dark of the room. And there it was, that sunshine smile that he saved just for you.

“I think you’ve got it all wrong, darling.” He tugged you impossibly closer, fingers dancing through your hair and dragging you closer to sleep with every careful, adoring stroke. “I don’t deserve you. I’m so damn happy I’ve got you.”

You closed your eyes, letting your fingers trail across the planes of his chest, mapping out his scars like constellations strewn across the most beautiful of skies; stories of your love’s survival painted just for your eyes.

“Buck?” You blinked up at him sleepily. His hum was less a sound, and more a soft rumble under your fingertips. “Sing for me? Please?”

“Again?” He teased just as he did every night. You nodded against him and he gave in without a complaint. So many nights came to an end this way. With him singing to you until your breathing slowed and your butterfly touches stilled.

His voice was quiet and low, not perfect by any technical standards, but flawless by all of yours, and that was the only thing he ever gave a damn about. He was singing your favorite, a lilting melody that his mother used to sing for him and his siblings when they’d have nightmares. You let yourself melt in his voice like cotton candy in the rain, and mumbled the softest ‘I love you’. He didn’t cease his cotton candy lullaby, but the gentle squeeze of your hip told you that he had heard you, and the way that he never complained about singing you to sleep told you that Bucky Barnes loved you too.

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