#seat 850

[akcanzi]

Let's take a ride in Segovia

Segovia © 2022 Oscar Alcañiz

[vintagevoiture]

Seat 850. source Escuderia

[badiajordi]

Vehicles clàssics a Pujalt

Diumenge vaig assistir a la I Trobada de Vehicles Clàssics de Pujalt. Hi vaig anar a participar amb la Vespa però també per cobrir la notícia per al Regió 7. El divendres hi havia anat a entrevistar l’Albert Esteve que, a més de ser un aficionat a la restauració de vehicles clàssics, també n’és un dels promotors. No havia assistit mai a una trobada de clàssics i en vaig quedar ben fascinat. Un…

[hatsbykat]

Seat 850

[carsthatnevermadeitetc]

SEAT 850 Coupe brochure, 1966. The Spanish version of the Fiat 850 Coupe, designed at Centro Stile Fiat by Felice Mario Boano and Gian Paolo Boano. Though the Fiat version was widely exported SEAT's licensing agreement with the Italians meant that the SEAT coupe could only be sold in Spain.

[techdriveplay]

The New Audi RS 6 Avant GT

The new Audi RS 6 Avant GT is the pinnacle of the model series. The special edition is packed with exclusive details.

The new Audi RS 6 Avant GT is the pinnacle of the model series. The special edition is packed with exclusive details for both the exterior and the interior. An impressive pass-through roof edge spoiler, redefined diffuser, and 22-inch wheels in a distinctive design underscore its top position in the model series. The interior features high-quality bucket seats, a fresh color combination, and…

[zepskies]

Hey could I please request headcanons for how Dean would react to reader texting him "she's busy" as a joke, yk kind of like

Dean: Hey baby

Reader: She's busy

I really hope this makes sense and isn't so confusing 😭😭

Ooh I think I know what you mean. 😏

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F. Reader Word Count: 850

Imagine: Texting Dean when he's on a hunt.

Once again, Dean sighed while he waited on his brother.

They were stopped at a 7-Eleven gas station after a hunt, but Dean had long ago filled up Baby's tank. Sam was inside, grabbing a few snacks for the road tomorrow. Supposedly.

Dean fished out his phone from his pocket and texted him.

Hey, Driving Miss Daisy. You good in there?

A couple of minutes later, Sam responded.

Yeah, just getting a few things.

Dean rolled his eyes. Right.

For half an hour? What, you taking a shit or something?

Sam's response was testy, just as Dean predicted.

Dean, give me a minute. Jesus.

Dean sighed, with a roll of his eyes. He scrolled back into his texts and found your name. He was a couple of states over from Lebanon, but still within the same timezone. You should still be awake back at the bunker.

He decided he wanted to hear your voice, let you know that he and Sam were going to catch one more night of rest here at the motel before they made the long drive back home.

But...you didn't answer when he called.

Weird. You were typically a night owl, either watching something or plugging away at your laptop. He tried texting you instead.

Hey, baby. You up?

He eventually saw the three gray dots pop up. You were typing...

She's busy.

Dean frowned. What the hell?

Had you invited someone over? Like Jody or Donna?

But neither of them would've replied like that...so he texted back.

Stop messing around.

Dean tried calling you again, but it went directly to voicemail this time. In came another text from "you."

She'll call you back, dude.

Dean's jaw ticked with annoyance. And despite himself, unease began to creep in and churn his stomach.

What the fuck is this?

She's in the shower. I'll tell her to call you back, no worries.

All right. WHO is this?

Ooh, are you the boyfriend? Yikes lol.

A deep, slow breath made it through Dean's nose. He closed his eyes, counted to ten, reminded himself that he did, in fact, love you.

Then he responded.

Babe, if you don't call me in the next 30 seconds, there's gonna be hell to pay when I get home.

Dean checked his watch and actually counted. About ten seconds passed before his phone rang with an incoming call...from you. He answered.

"Promise?" came your teasing voice. When it ended on a giggle, Dean rolled his eyes and rested his head back on the seat. He blew out a frustrated breath.

"Oh, trust and believe. You're gonna fuckin' get it this time," he said, though his lips curved on a reluctant smirk. You full on laughed at him then.

"You make it too easy," you replied.

He knew this. It wasn't the first time you'd teased him, and he knew it wouldn't be the last.

Still, he couldn't help being a bit irritated this time.

"You know, how would you like it if I did that to you?" he asked. "Wouldn't be so fucking funny then, would it?"

"...Okay. You're right. I'm sorry, baby," came your more contrite voice. But he could still hear your smile. Could imagine the way you might soothe a hand along his arm, if you were here.

"How about I make it up to you?" you offered.

That worked a slow smirk onto his face. "Yeah? What did you have in mind?"

For the next few minutes, you purred into his ear about all the things you'd been thinking of while he was gone. Daydreaming about the talents of his hands, lips, and tongue.

In particular, you reminded him about a certain birthday wish that he still hadn't claimed from a couple weeks ago, when he and Sam got wind of this hunt.

Two weeks really was too damn long, in your opinion. (He agreed with you.)

Now with a half-straining bulge in his jeans, Dean licked his lips and tightened his hand on the leather wheel of the car.

"All right. Sounds like a plan to me, sweetheart," he said, deceptively breezy. As if you'd just told him you planned to make tacos for dinner.

"When are you getting home?" you asked.

He heard the tone of your voice, like black silk. It sent a tendril of heat down his spine, raising the hairs on his forearms.

"Tonight," Dean said. Deeper, a note of gravel in his words. "I'll see you tonight."

"Good." Once again, he heard the smile in your voice. "I love you."

He sighed, and raised a hand to card through his hair.

"Love you too...even though you play too fucking much," he muttered the latter bit.

Your laughter once again reached his ears, reluctantly making him smile.

He hung up with you just before Sam finally opened the passenger seat door and climbed in with two hefty grocery bags. Did he do a whole damn shopping spree in there?

...Whatever. Dean shook his head and started the car.

"Change of plan," he said. "We're heading home."

"What? Thought we were gonna catch a few hours of sleep. It's a long drive, Dean," Sam said, earning his brother's gaze.

"Yeah, well, you'll live," Dean snarked. A more devious grin spread across his face. "I've got a date."

And she's about to get punished.

The Impala's tires screeched as Dean pulled out of the parking lot and onto the main road.

AN: Ha! This one was fun. 😘 Thanks for the prompt!

Dean Winchester Imagines

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Dean W. Tag List:

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420

[angelbaby-fics]

Thanksgiving (Pt. 2)

Pairing: Cg!Stucky x Little!Reader

Word Count: 850

(part 1)

A/N: And here's part two!! I tried to pack it full of cozy fluff because thats what I've been needing lately 💕 I hope you guys like this & hopefully I'll have more soon!

“So, what's the verdict?” Bucky whispered to Steve as the two of you emerged from your bedroom. 

“We’re going to say hello,” Steve replies.

“All three of us?”

Steve rolled his eyes.

“Oh, Buck, not you too. It took me long enough to convince this one.” “Kidding!” Bucky laughed, ruffling your hair. “It's gonna be fun, right babydoll?” 

You nodded. Steve carried you to the front door, setting you down on the bench to help you put on your shoes. As he tied them, Bucky secured your hat onto your head, pulling it a little too far over your eyes. You giggled as you waited for him to pull it back up like he always did; when he did, he greeted you with a smile.

“Alright, ready to rock baby?” Bucky asked.

“Mhm!” You nodded, reaching your arms up to him. 

Bucky picked you up and carried you to the car, strapping you into your car seat while Steve started the car and turned the heat on. 

“Do you want me to sit with you, or do you want alone time on the drive?” “Lone time, please,” you answered, and so Bucky planted a kiss on your forehead before getting into the front passenger seat beside Steve. 

The drive was peaceful, your daddies’ quiet voices just audible above the soft jazz drifting from the car stereo. The holiday meant traffic was scarce, so the journey to Tony’s place didn’t take quite as long as it usually did. Still, you used this time just to breathe and think. You fidgeted with the stuffie attached to your car seat, running your fingers over its silken ears to soothe yourself. You knew you weren’t going to be at 100% social battery today and that was okay, you just needed enough energy to get through it without pushing yourself too far. As you pulled into Tony’s driveway, Steve ran through your gameplan. 

“I’ll do most of the socializing, alright? All you two need to do is say hi to your friends and thank Tony and Pepper for inviting us.” Bucky rolled his eyes before Steve added “I saw that!”

Bucky got you out of your car seat and carried you up to the front door, one hand cradling you in his arms and the other holding Steve’s hand. Steve knocked on the door and it quickly opened to warm light, lively chatter, and the smell of home cooked food.

Steve hugged Tony, quick to say hello and explain the situation. You’d all be staying for just a bit, not for dinner, but that you were happy to be there nonetheless. Tony was more than understanding, no stranger to not wanting to be around other people sometimes. When you entered the main party space, Steve broke off from your trio to make his rounds, hugging everyone he recognized and introducing himself to everyone he didn’t. Meanwhile, Bucky carried you over to the food table, grabbing some snacks for the two of you to munch on while you waited to leave. 

It really wasn’t such a bad time. You sat on the couch curled up into Bucky’s side, your head resting on his pecs, his vibranium arm protectively wrapped around you while you enjoyed some of the homemade fudge that Bruce had brought. Bucky chatted with Sam on the couch, occasionally pausing to say hi to an acquaintance as they walked by, citing you on his chest as the reason why he couldn’t get up and mingle like Steve was. You’d wave at them and give a little smile, your greetings getting slightly less enthusiastic as the evening went on. 

You weren’t getting antsy; on the contrary, where you were afraid the party would overload your senses, you found it actually soothed them. Everyone you loved was gathered together yet still giving you space, respectful of your energy. You had delicious snacks in your tummy and the taste still lingered on your tongue. The light in Tony’s home was tinged with soft orange as the sun started to set, and your eyelids started to feel heavier. Bucky’s fingers combed through your hair, his chest rising and falling and soothing you like a rocking chair. Even at a party full of people, surrounded by love, you felt safe enough to sleep. You’d just drifted off by the time Steve came back around, having successfully mingled with everyone there. 

“Ready to head out?” He asked his husband.

“Shh… this party animal’s sleeping,” Bucky replied, putting a finger to his lips. 

He carefully lifted you from the couch, keeping your position mostly the same as he transferred you fully into his arms. The three of you made your way to the front door, your daddies waving at the other party guests who cooed at your precious sleeping self. 

“Same time next year?” Tony joked as he held the front door open for your family.

“Of course! And thanks for having us,” Steve replied, hugging his friend.

Your head perked up from Bucky’s shoulder, bleary eyed as you remembered your very important mission.

“Tank you Uncle Tony!” You said sleepily, waving as you were carried back to the car.

[carl-tabora]

The Necron and the Baby

Original post: https://www.reddit.com/r/ImaginaryWarhammer/comments/1exlig3/commission_babys_first_necron_drawn_by_carl_tabora/

"An-nakhrimun awkwardly stares at the tiny human in her hand, confused and unsure. The human stares back, extending tiny hands towards her while making incoherent noises, clearly unafraid of the soulless Necron.

What is she supposed to do, is she supposed to eat her? She quickly glances up, seeking instruction from the mature human couple, yet to her dismay only receiving their smiles.

Ever since awoke from the Great Sleep and subsequent exile by Illuminor Szeras, she has been drowning in despair and sadness, wallowing at the memory of her failing her entire species and the terrible fate upon herself and her mother. Landing her ship on this nameless planet, she sat upon the top of her ship's exterior and fell into unmoving catatonia, with only the maintenance of her mother, now a mindless warrior, drove her to act slightly.

Not even herself realized how long it had been, but before she realized, an alien race that called themselves “human” appeared. Time has been hard to grasp for An-nakhrimun, as the humans have been in a completely different state each time she paid attention to them. From colonizing the planet, building gleaming cities, fighting among themselves against their robotic servants, collapsing into primitivism, and rebuilding their society with even more inferior technology. She is the only unchanged constant on this planet.

Humans have long used to her presence, sometimes even scaling her ship to try to communicate with her. Now, with her ship buried under dirt, humans have built a park around her seat, these interactions only became more frequent. Sometimes when she pays attention, she could even see humans sketching her figure with primitive pen and papers.

Most of the interaction has been quiet and distanced, but only once, she was forced into physical confrontation.

On a heavy snowy night, two tiny humans, male and female, wearing tattered clothes, stumbled to her seat, cold and shaking. They have no home to return to, and in the winter’s chill, they will not see tomorrow’s sunrise. They embraced the metal alien lady, waiting to die, instead, they found a warm energy dome around her. An-nakhrimun, frozen in confusion and flustered at the tiny humans grabbing onto her, channeled a deflection shield to repel the coldness, in order to try scaring them away.

She sighed a silent relief when they finally left when the sun rise, and didn’t even realize just for that night, she paid so much attention to those two humans, she even forgot to wallow in her own sadness.

Since then, An-nakhrimun sometimes would find small trinkets and items on herself and her mother, scarf, small flower, sachet. She does not understand the purpose, yet keeps them as it might be of some significance she doesn’t get.

Now the two humans have matured, and they came to her with their own offspring, like a female feline eager to show its master what she produced, and asked her to join them on a “family dinner”.

The word sounds so foreign, yet so familiar. Though she lacks the flesh to consume food anymore, she remembers how her mother used to be smiling at the dinner table even with barely any food. She glances at her mindless mother, and allows both of them to be dragged out of the park.

The interaction with humans has distracted her from her own sadness, and she doesn’t hate it.

Yet, such a time would be short lived, as the current Terra time is 850.M30, and the 16th legion of power armoured genetic soldiers, serving the self-proclaimed Emperor of Mankind, will be arriving into the system in less than a year…

Scene art for my tabletop campaign, depicting the pre-campaign story of Lone Cryptek An-Nakhrimun, who sat on a planet being depressed for 10k+ years until Great Crusade came knocking. And the baby that would become the origin of her fake human face."

[corrodedcoffins-blog]

'It Couple'

masterlist

note: my first andrew ask!!!

warnings: none!

word count: 850~

♡ summary: Where Andrew and Y/n are the 'it couple' of Hollywood

♡ Andrew Garfield x actress/director!reader

request ✓

The loud clicks as well as the bright flashes only got louder and brighter after Andrew and Y/n stepped out of their car, heading into the venue. It was understandable, both were up for very prestigious awards tonight, Andrew for best actor and Y/n for directing as well as writing. But of course paparazzi didn’t care about that, they wanted what sold, and pictures of the couple sold.

The couple was also making their first appearance since their ten year anniversary, they had co-starred in Spider-man together. They were twenty-eight then and both in that place in life to settle down with someone, while still putting their best foot forward for their careers. They fit together like pieces of a puzzle, like she was the espresso and he was the milk to a cappuccino.

It took them a while to get married, only being three years of marriage in a ten year relationship, many people at the time pushed for them to take that step. But they knew what was right for them, and they both grew tired of saying ‘boyfriend’ and ‘girlfriend’ when they could be saying ‘husband’ and ‘wife’.

It took them a while to get married, only being three years of marriage in a ten year relationship, many people at the time pushed for them to take that step. But they knew what was right for them, and they both grew tired of saying ‘boyfriend’ and ‘girlfriend’ when they could be saying ‘husband’ and ‘wife’.

Throughout the carpet they whispered sweet nothings and little jokes only they would understand. It was something the internet loved, how, unlike some celebrity couples, you could see the love in their eyes. After ten years it has never left, forever stuck in the honeymoon phase while knowing each other like the back of their hand.

After what felt like an hour, they finally made their way into the venue, venturing out of their seats to mingle, but mostly enjoying the night out together in peace. Not trying to think about the awards they were nominated for.

-

It was now the end of the night, both a little tipsy, Y/n already won for best original screenplay. But now was for the big awards, two of which the couple were nominated for, only making it all the more nerve racking.

“And best directing goes to…” The booming voice on stage spoke, of course stalling as they always did for dramatic affect. It was as if a Y/n was no longer there, like she was merely watching at home on a screen, dreaming she was the director to win.

The only indication it had been announced, is the warm and firm hug Andrew brought her into. Leaving a kiss on her forehead in congratulation, but also of pride. His wife won best director.

“Love, I am so proud of you. You deserve this.”

His words brought her back to life, as they always did, looking up at him she left a kiss on his lips, herself and him whispering ‘I love you’s against each other's soft lips. They didn’t care that they were on live TV, they were celebrating. After quickly getting hugs from the cast and crew that were there, Y/n made her way up the stage, accepting the award.

“I truly just had an out of body experience. This has been a dream since I was- god like thirteen, when I took my first film class. Mrs. Goldstone, thank you for fighting for that class to be given at my school. If it wasn’t I wouldn't be here. And to my husband, Andrew, I wouldn’t be here if you didn’t push me to pursue directing six years ago. I love you.”

After thanking the cast and crew, as well as the academy, Y/n made her way off the stage. Only to run backstage to her seat, not wanting to miss the best actor award.Coming back to her seat she was huffing and puffing from all the running, “What? Did you run here?” “Yes, actually.”

Turning his head, left another string of kisses from the woman’s forehead to her check, “I’m so proud of you.”

“And the nominees for best actor!” The camera panned to the respective actors as the man on stage read off the names, “And the award for best actor goes to… Andrew Garfield! Tick, Tick… Boom!”

Both rose from their chairs, smiling widely, and bringing each other into a tight hug, “My turn to be proud. You deserve this, I love you.” “I love you.”

Andrew made his way to the stage this time, accepting the award, shaking the hands out everyone on stage before he made his way to the microphone, “I just can only say thank you. I know everyone says it, but I did not see this coming. I want to thank every member of the cast as well as the crew, you made this movie possible. And Lin, thank you, I love working with you. And my wife, who lied to Lin when he asked her if I could sing. Without you immediately lying for me, this wouldn’t be possible. I love you.”

[seventeenreasonswhy]

bf s.coups reacts to your scars ❤️‍🩹

CW: self harm (pls take care 🫶), angst / fluff, seungcheol is the sweetest

~850 words

AN: This just came to me for some reason. I feel like S.Coups would be so kind in this scenario. He's always reminding CARATs of how precious and worthy of love we are, and he's right! ❤️❤️❤️

Seungcheol had been noticing that you wore long sleeves a lot. When you’d first started dating, it didn’t even occur to him since it was winter. But as it got warmer outside, he wondered. “I run cold,” you would smile, shrugging it off if he tried to broach the subject.

The first official weekend of summer arrived, and he took you on a date to a tennis match. You looked so cute in your summery, sporty tennis skirt. The pattern on the skirt matched the bright berry color of your... long-sleeved top.

“Y/N,” Seungcheol smiled at you when you got out of your car, but quickly frowned at what you were wearing.

“It’s going to be like 100 degrees,” he said when you reached him.

“You don’t feel chilly?” You said, nonchalant. Seungcheol squinted at you. The sun was beating down so hard, anyone would be sweating. He’d worn over 50 SPF sunscreen and a baseball hat that day, it was supposed to be so brutal.

“Y/N,” Seungcheol’s tone shifted, and you felt a slight catch in your chest. He’d stopped walking toward the tennis court bleachers, and you turned to look back at him.

His face was darkened, and you felt like something was off...

“What?” You said, trying to maintain some composure, despite his shift in mood making you uneasy.

“C’mere,” he said, softer than you were expecting. Your face crinkled in confusion, but you made your way toward him. When you got close enough, he softly took you by your forearms.

You nearly jumped out of your skin—you had a feeling he might be wondering about this. It was something that came up in all of your relationships eventually. Your scars. You did your best to cover them up, not exactly because you were ashamed (although, you were admittedly working on that with your therapist), but mostly because you didn’t want to explain. You’d seen too many people, well-intentioned as they might be, get uncomfortable or not know what to say or how to act around you. You felt like it stuck a sign on you that might as well say “damaged goods, do not touch.”

Seungcheol’s gentle grip squeezed you ever so slightly.

“Here, let’s go sit in the car,” he said—you hadn’t realized he was standing so close to you. The grip on your arms wasn’t harsh... but he didn’t handle you overly-delicately either. But still, you couldn’t help but feel panicked. What if he didn’t... get it? What if it turned him off...

“I’m sorry—” you breathed out. Seungcheol stepped back a bit, his grip now supporting your weight. He had a feeling that the reason you wore long sleeves all the time was because of something painful, but he hadn’t anticipated you looking so shaken up.

“Don’t worry,” he said, as reassuringly as he could. “I’m not trying to put you on the spot.” He breathed the words so softly, only you could hear him. You looked at him, still feeling slightly nervous, but something in his eyes made you relax a little. He didn’t seem angry, or eager, or like he was pitying you. The warmth in his eyes was simply... there. Like he was saying, Don’t worry.

Once you were both seated in the car, away from any passersby in the parking lot, you decided it would be best to just rip the band aid off. You pushed the sleeves of your athletic top up, showing the faded but persistent scars along your forearms that you had managed to hide from almost everyone for a long time. He looked at them for a moment, his face remaining placid, only slightly tinged with concern. You start babbling, trying to explain that they were from a long time ago, when you were younger and more lost than you are now... but after a moment, you felt his fingers wrapping around your forearms again as he traced some of the scars with his thumb.

“Thank you for sharing this with me,” he said in a quiet voice, a small, grateful smile on his face that shot straight into your heart. you didn’t know what to say, and were mortified to feel a lump in your throat inching its way up. no one had ever thanked you for this information.

“it’s nothing,” you said, your voice shaking slightly.

“it’s not nothing,” he said simply, as he brushed a hand through your hair, noticing that you were on the verge of tears. “you went through something very difficult, and handled it the best way you knew how at the time. I think it’s really admirable that you’ve come this far, and it means a lot that you shared this part of you with me.”

His kind words had a genuineness to them that sent you over the edge. You didn’t know what to say, and Seungcheol didn’t mind. He brushed a tear away from your cheek with his thumb.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said, lacing his fingers in yours.

[vintagevoiture]

Seat 850 Sport en circuit en Catalogne. Source Escuderia.com

[delicatebarness]

cry baby | chapter fourteen

Summary: “Do we know this person?”

Warning: Not a Cry Baby episode. Mentions of John Walker.

Word Count: 850

Spotify Playlist | Tips

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

A/N: Cry Baby is taking the day off, have Bucky. Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as it is mine. - B

Tags: @buckys0whore | @thezombieprostitute | @lanabuckybarnes | @mishkatelwarriorgoddess | @softieekayy | @noonespecial90 | @hello-therree | @randomawesomeperson102 | @whoreforbarnes | @thejutvtsupport | @somnorvos | @cjand10 | @plasticbottleholder

It had been days since the awkward encounter at his apartment, it deepened the strain between yourself and Bucky. He knew avoiding you wouldn’t work, but he couldn’t help it. Last night’s incident hadn’t helped, he couldn’t shake the image of you and Thor laughing together out of his head. Even though Thor was a great friend to both you and him, he hated the way seeing you together made him feel. 

He found himself back at the bar that next morning. Only a few of the regulars were around there, nursing their morning coffee. He was lost in his thoughts as he sipped his own. 

The door swung open, and Natasha walked in. Her eyes immediately narrowed on him while he sat at the bar. She strode over, her demeanor indicating that she wasn’t in the best of moods. 

“Bucky,” she called sharply, taking a seat next to him at the bar, without waiting for an invitation. 

“Nat,” he mumbled, already sensing where this conversation was headed.

“We need to talk about last night,” she said, her tone icy as she leaned closer to him. Her eyes were hard as they bore into the side of his head. He refused to look at her. 

He sighed, setting his mug down on the bar. “What about it?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Barnes,” Natasha snapped. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. You let Leah sit in her seat.” 

“It wasn’t a big deal, Romanoff,” he muttered, still avoiding her gaze. “She can sit wherever she wants.” 

Her eyes flashed with anger. “It’s not about the seat, dipshit. It’s about what it represents. She felt replaced, sidelined.” 

“That’s her problem, not mine,” he retorted, his tone dismissive. “It doesn’t matter where anyone sits.” 

Natasha leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “This isn’t something you’re going to brush off, Bucky. And, if I ever see someone else sitting in her seat again, you’ll regret it. Understood?” 

For the first time that morning, Bucky looked at her, her eyes were serious. She didn’t make idle threats, and he knew it. “Whatever,” he said curtly, taking another sip of his coffee. 

She stood abruptly. Without a word, she reached out and delivered a harsh slap to the back of Bucky’s head, causing him to choke slightly on his coffee.

Bucky recoiled slightly, surprised by her action. He watched as she turned on her heel and walked out. His hand instinctively rose to rub the spot where she had slapped. He knew she was right, but he wasn’t ready to admit it. 

He pushed away his coffee mug, leaning against the bar, running a hand over his face. The bar owner, who had been observing the exchange approached Bucky. “Everything alright, Barnes?” he asked, genuine concern evident in his voice.

Bucky nodded, offering a tight-lipped smile. “Yeah, just another day in paradise with the family,” he replied sarcastically. “You know how we are, Howlett.” The bar owner gave him a sympathetic nod before returning to his duties. 

Taking a deep breath, Bucky glance over to your regular booth, his gaze landing on the empty seat where you sat. 

~

Later that day Natasha and Wanda’s apartment became lively: they were joined by the boys– Steve, Sam, and Thor. Hanging out, sharing stories, and overall catching up with Thor. They sat around the living room, beers in hand with the conversation stayed light. 

Thor regaled them with tales of his latest adventure. Steve and Sam listened intently, occasionally throwing in questions or comments. 

Suddenly, Natasha and Wanda’s phone simultaneously buzzed with a notification. They glanced down to see a message in their group chat with you, their curiosity piqued. Natasha reached for her phone to open it first, reading it out to Wanda.

“Do we know this person?” she read, then turned the screen to show Wanda the name attached in a second message. “She said, she met him a few hours ago and wants to make sure he’s not another Walker.” 

Wanda furrowed her brows, taking a moment to think, repeating the name. “I don’t think I’ve heard that name before,” she replied, picking her phone up to reread. 

Natasha nodded in agreement, she also hadn’t heard the name. Her fingers flew over the screen as she reassured you. “We haven’t heard of him before, do you want us to ask the guys?” 

Cry Baby: NO

Wanda nodded at your quick response, “Find out more about him, and we’ll help you figure it out.” she replied. 

As they waited for your response, the atmosphere in the apartment grew quiet. Steve, Sam, and Thor exchanged puzzled glances. Natasha and Wanda gave each other knowing looks as they grew more anxious, Natasah’s leg beginning to bounce in anticipation. 

Their phones buzzed, and finally, a reply from you. They eagerly opened the message, their eyes scanning the screens. 

Cry Baby: He said he works at the newspaper, and he seems nice.

With another shared glance, your friends nodded in silent agreement. After the Walker incident, they were grateful for your trust in them to help.

---

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[guiltyasdave]

dancing phantoms on the terrace

pairing: Oberyn Martell x f!reader

word count: 850

tags/warnings: (somewhat) modern!Oberyn, able bodied reader, reader has hair that wind is "whipping through", no use of y/n, alcohol consumption, once again it's all aboard the angst train i'm sorry babes

a/n: written for @studioghibelli's writing challenge, thank you for this gorgeous moodboard! <3 shoutout to @sizzlingcloudmentality for letting me ramble about this <3

follow @guiltyasdavenotifs for fic updates and find my full masterlist here!

dividers by @saradika-graphics <3

Everything is sparkling. Lights twinkling from the ceiling, reflecting in the glittery material of your dress as it’s swishing around you. In the golden liquid’s tiny bubbles in the high stemmed glass in your hand. On your eyelids and cheekbones, small particles that make your skin glow and shimmer as you dance. 

And in his eyes, as they follow your every move. Mesmerized, just like he always is. Filled with regret, just like he always is. Afraid that it’s gonna be the last time he sees you. Just like he fucking always is. 

Knowing better than to tell you, knowing better than to elicit that sad smile of yours, to hear the soft, apologetic We can’t, Oberyn one more time. 

He sees you in his car, next to him in the passenger seat. The windows down, wind whipping through your hair, sunshine spilling in and illuminating you. Your laughter ringing out around him, the smile growing on his face while you took his hand and kissed each fingertip.

He sees you walking next to him, his arm around you and giggles on your lips, both of you stumbling back to his place after meeting friends at the bar. Dancing around in the dark apartment without music playing, just the both of you, wrapped up in each other, so close and yet never close enough.

He sees you next to him in bed, your cheek resting on his chest, the soft sounds of your breathing, your warmth against his body. Pressing a kiss to your forehead before drifting off to sleep. 

The bliss of being this close to you, to be allowed to touch you like this. Before he became this shell of a human, consumed by building his legacy, by the need to get justice for his family and their sacrifices. When he thought that if he worked hard enough, he could quell the sadness and anger that had been festering inside of him. Before he felt you drifting away, before he was too busy to answer your phone calls, before you slammed your door in his face and shut him out. 

He still sees you. Watches you, from afar. Watched you getting on with your life, watched you avoiding him when your shared social circle kept you showing up at the same places, watched you laughing with other people, never with him. Watched you get married, with a sting in his chest and a forced smile on his face. It might have been wishful thinking, but he could swear that your smile was forced, too.

He’s watching now, with you so close and yet painfully far away from him, dancing by yourself. Making it so easy to imagine himself right there with you, the way it used to be. 

You’re gliding off the dancefloor and towards the huge glass door leading to the balcony, your eyes locking with his just before you slide outside into the night, out of view. Of course you knew he was watching. He’s always watching. You always know. 

You don’t turn around when he approaches, looking out over the gardens that are plunged into darkness where the light spilling out of the high windows can’t reach. The music is muffled out here, like he’s stepped into a different reality, where it’s just the both of you. It has always been this way with you. 

Goosebumps are rising on the bare skin of your shoulders. He still remembers how you feel. How smooth your skin is, how soft under his touch. How he could never keep his hands off of you when you were still his. 

His fingers ghost against yours, skin on skin, until they intertwine almost on their own accord. Your breath hitches. 

“It’s a nice party.”

If he tries, he can imagine that everything’s the way it was. That you’re hosting this party together, the happy couple that just needed fresh air for a moment. That it’s not just him, inviting too many people he doesn’t like into his house every weekend. Always in the blind hope that you’ll show up. 

“It is,” he agrees. You turn to look at him. His heart aches. 

You inhale deeply, squaring your shoulders. He remembers your mannerisms so well. Already knows that you have something to say, something he won’t like. 

“I can’t come here any more. It’s not— it hurts too much. I know it hurts you, too.” 

He swallows, hard. Tightens his grip on your hand. It hurts to see you, yes, but it would hurt more not to. 

“Princess—” 

Pain flickers in your eyes at the old pet name. 

You lean in closer, your lips meeting his cheek one last time. Just as soft as he remembers. A single tear drips down your face when you let go. 

“Goodbye, Oberyn. It’s been very rare to have known you,” you whisper. 

Your fingers let go of his. He watches as you step back into the twinkling lights, watches you disappear into the crowd. The loss of his life. You don’t hear his reply, but he knows that you know.

“Very strange and wonderful.” 

...hi :) i once again apologize for my actions, i hurt my own feelings with this one ngl. if you want to leave a comment or a reblog, i'd love you forever <3

[carsthatnevermadeitetc]

Fiat 850, 1964. Designed by Dante Giacosa (Fiat's lead engineer from 1946 to 1970) the 850 replaced the 600 (they sold alongside each other for a time). There were multiple variants of the 850, made by Fiat and numerous Italian coachbuilders, in addition to tuned versions made by Abarth. The 850 was also made in Spain by Seat, in Germany by Neckar and in Bulgaria by Pirin-Fiat. It remained in production in Italy until 1973 where it was replaced by the 127

[obessedwithfictionalmen]

Stop trying to feel everything

John Egan X Lieutenant Colonel!Reader

Summary: When a woman comes on the base, ranked higher than anyone. Bucky wants a date with her!

Warning: Historical inaccuracies/ sexism/ alcohol use/ mention of death/ use of Y/n/

Word count: 850

She made her way into the debrief room, she felt the men staring at her, she heard whispers. ‘’Gentleman, this is Lieutenant Colonel Rogers, she will be working with the AWPD (Air War Plan Division), I want you all on your best behaviour, she’s ranked higher than most of you here’’ Colonel Harding ordered. The men went silent as they heard her rank. Bucky looked at the woman, she was intimidating, her body language was telling that she was confident and didn’t took any of the men’s bullshit. ‘’Thank you, Colonel. Now boys, your next target is – ‘’ she was cut off by one of the men. ‘’Come on, doll, lose the uniform!’’ he yelled. She stooped what she was doing and looked at the men. She looked at him from up and down and looked at him in the eyes. Her gaze was intimidating. ‘’Misogyny, how refreshing, what’s next? Stay in the kitchen, you drive like a woman? Listen to me very carefully, I’m the one that helps deciding where you’re going to fly next, which bomb you’re going to drop and everything that you were trained to do. So go ahead, make another joke and I’ll have you arrest for assault by the M. P’s. Understood?’’ she didn’t break eye contact with the men, who quickly sat down with his head down. ‘’Can I continue?’’ she looked at the men in the room.

She quickly made a reputation for herself. She was strong and was fierce, many tried to get with her, all of them failed to do so. John Egan made it his personal objective to get a date with the Lieutenant Colonel Rogers. But as the number of missions grew, he slowly started to lose his mind, Bucky came back from a mission with a lot of casualties, he went to see one of the men injured in the hospital. Y/n was already there. ‘’I’ll let you rest, Bubbles, take care of yourself’’ she said, holding his hands. ‘’Thank you, Miss Rogers,’’ he said, smiling. She walked to the door, but when she walked past Major, she slowed down. ‘’Hello, Major, your friend, Curt, told me to say that he and other guys were going to go drink. He invited you.’’ She said as she walked out the room. Her perfume filled his nose, she smelled really good. ‘’Uh, thank you’’ he stuttered.

He was on the wing of his plane, drinking directly from the bottle. ‘’Curt, can you do me a favor?’’ He asked his friend. He nodded. ‘’Come here’’ he said, moving his fingers in a ‘Come here’ motion. ‘’I want you to hit me’’ he said. Y/n was driving her Jeep around the base. She heard someone yelling, so she drove where the noise came from. She saw Major Egan on the wing of the plane. She stopped the vehicle and got out. ‘’What’s wrong with you, Major?’’ she asked the brunette. ‘’Nothing, Miss.’’ He said, holding his nose. ‘’He just asked me to punch him!’’ Curt exclaimed. Y/n had to hold her laugh as she smiled in disbelief. ‘’Major Egan, come back down, right now’’ she ordered. He did as she asked and climbed down the plane. ‘’What’s going on with you?’’ she asked. ‘’I just want to feel something’’ he blurted out. Y/n felt bad for him. ‘’Hop in, Major’’ she tapped the seat next to her. He sat next to her; she hands him a tissue for his nose. ‘’You know you can do something else than getting punched’’ she said. ‘’I just don’t know what’’ he mumbled. ‘’Stop trying to feel everything, Major, the emotions you’re feeling are valid’’ she says to him. He looked at her, she didn’t know what to say, but he had a lump in his throat. ‘’Why are you shutting off to us, Lieutenant?’’ he asked her. She thought about an answer, but he was right. ‘’Because I can’t take dead pilots, again. I want to be strong; I can’t see my friends being dead, not again’’ she said. She’d been transferred from another base; she lost her old best friend and went a little crazy. Bucky looked at her, she had both hands on the steering wheel, but if one of them was free, he would take her hand. ‘’Yeah, I heard the rumors’’ he softly says. ‘’The one that say that I’m crazy?’’ she asks. ‘’Yeah, but I didn’t believe them’’ Y/n smiles. She stops the car near a tree. ‘’Listen, Major, normally, I’m supposed to get you in trouble for the hole ‘punch me’ situation. I take my job very seriously, and if they learn that I went soft on you, my reputation is ruined. So don’t do it again, or the M. Ps are going to get involved, got it?’’ she tired to sound intimidating. Bucky softly smiled. ‘’You can’t buy my silence that easily, Lieutenant’’ he teased. ‘’Alright, what do you want?’’ she laughed. ‘’A date?’’ his voice was full of hope. Y/n rolled her eyes and looked at the men. She found him attractive, and he was the only one that was persistent enough to try to have a date with her. ‘’Okay, I’ll go on a date with you, Major’’