all he wanted to do is prove to his father that he is worthy of his attention

Why We Need to Appreciate Padmé Amidala

In spirit of #SWisagirlthingtoo making its way around Twitter, I thought now would be the perfect time to make a post I’ve been wanting to write for a while. Star Wars up until recently has not given much attention to its heroines, perhaps with the exception of the iconic Princess and General Leia Organa. It is incredibly sad that it has taken this long for the franchise to realise that characters such as Leia, Padmé and Rey (as well as the many animated heroines we have met such as Ahsoka and Hera) have been and will forever continue to be definitive factors in the way many girls have and will grow up.

When it comes to Star Wars, I loved Leia and I love Rey, but they are both not the heroine I connected with. I connected with former Queen and then Senator Padmé Amidala from the highly criticised (although increasingly less so) prequels and then again in the animated series, Star Wars: The Clone Wars. Any Padmé fan knows that loving her as a character most often means you’ll often be told that in the end she did ‘nothing but cry over Anakin’ or is in no way comparable to her daughter, you’ll find it frustrating that no reference is made to her at all following Episode III and you’ll know that she has little to no presence in merchandising even when you are more than willing to throw coins down Disney’s way for her.

But Padmé deserves to overcome all of the above. Padmé constantly has to battle against both what people expected her to be (arguably a Leia clone) and the often restrictive and limiting definitions of what makes a “strong female character”, especially in pop culture. Regardless, here is why Padmé is such an underappreciated and amazing character.

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The Game (Patrick Hockstetter imagine)

► Summary: After the interesting first afternoon the reader has spent with the Bowers gang Patrick has developed a real interest in her and is determined to achieve another afternoon with her but the girl is not exactly what he expected.

(First part here!)

► Pair: Patrick Hockstetter x reader

► Warnings: Bad language, Patrick being… Patrick, 

Author’s notes: So I must tell you guys that I’ve decided to split this story in three parts cause I got so many ideas I wasn’t expecting to have. This is the second part  of “Meeting the gang” in case you haven’t read it first! The third part will be posted next week (At least that’s my plan!)

► Taglist: @makotta @that-one-emo-kid @screechingwanton @sittingwithlucifer @mr-zippy @dannibarnesflair @pennywisetheslut @mrshockstetter @sighlilyc (Patrick Hockstetter imagines taglist is still open! If you want to get tagged on the next ones let me know!)

PART 3

Feel free to contact me HERE or send me a message with anything you need!

Constructive criticism is always welcome.



“So…?” Cathy leaned forward on the table of the cafeteria you both were occupying.

“So what?” you asked taking a sip of your water bottle.

“You know very well what”

Of course you did, how could you not?

Since you spent that afternoon with Cathy and the Bowers gang she had been asking you to repeat it someday. According to her the boys had really enjoyed your company and whenever she said that you would look at her with your left brow raised. Belch and Victor almost didn’t pay attention to you, Henry was more focused on Cathy although he ended up being kinda nice and the one who really got interested in you done it in a way you were not sure of liking.

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Daddy Doesn’t Have to Know - Part 15

Title: Daddy Doesn’t Have to Know - Part 15

Characters: Negan x You/Reader

Synopsis: Your last minute change of decision leaves you in a more complicated situation.

Warnings: NSFW!

Original Idea by: @babyblues915

Note: Too many things going on in this chapter lmfao. I was thinking of splitting it up but whatevah. Hope you guys enjoy!!!

DDHTK Masterlist

“Nervous?”

You turned your attention towards Rosita as she drove and let out a deep sigh, “How can I not be when we’re headed out on an assassination plan? Without my dad even knowing…” you told her before looking out the window once more.

It was noon when Rosita told you that it was going to be the big day. Rick and the rest were out to prepare for the upcoming war with the Saviors, so it was probably the only time that you and Rosita could head out without being questioned.

“We’re not messing up, we can’t.” it was all that Rosita said.

The fact that you were out on a top-secret mission wasn’t the only thing bothering you. It was of course, the entire plan that Rosita came up with. She wanted to kill Negan and you, of all people, agreed to help her out. You chose to side with your family, it was the right thing for you to do but for some reason, it felt so wrong.

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Getting Somewhere

Originally posted by avengers-of-mirkwood

Summary: You and Sigrid have a very in-depth conversation about your past with Thranduil and the King tries to apologize in his own little way.

Pairings: Thranduil x Reader

Words: 2,063

Warnings: Mentions of Loss of Family Members; Slight Mentions of Hatred from Parents.

A/N: I’ve been hella tired lately so I haven’t been doing anything. No writing no nothing. I think that’s how the weekend is going to go too. Sorry guys. Also this was hard to write. I wanted like a lot of angst, but I couldn’t find a way to fix it so I kinda f’ed up lol

Master Lists: Drabbles/Imagines, and Completed Series   - Part 1

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All of You - Part 2 (Dad, This is Daryl) | (Part 1) | (Part 3) (Part 4)

Daryl x Reader Smut Warning! 18+ Only! NSFW

Summary: As requested, here is part 2. Post-Negan era smut piece. The reader (Negan’s Daughter) convinces Negan to allow Daryl to be her bodyguard while he is away in Alexandria for a few days. Smut and romance ensue. When Negan returns, he finds out that they are sleeping together and loses his shit.

—–

You awoke the morning after your close encounter with Daryl, you awoke feeling wonderfully satisfied, yet hungry for more of him. You could taste his lips on yours and your hands roamed your body, in bed, wishing they were his. You felt them wander lower and lower down your stomach and grip your hips roughly, moving over to touch yourself, thinking of how fucking good he was to you last night.

There was a sudden pounding on your door and you grunted.

“What?!” You scream out, frustrated.

“Y/N. I gotta talk to you, wake the fuck up and open the door!” Negan yelled from behind the wooden door.

You grumpily threw the blankets off you and walked to the door, unlocking it and opening it harshly.

“What?? Can’t a girl get any fucking sleep around here?” You cried out, disgruntled.

“Shit, Y/N. It the fucking apocalypse, no one gets any fucking sleep.” He said playfully and sauntered into your room, making himself completely at home.

He wandered over to a small two person table you had set up in the big space, next to a big window that overlooked the gates of The Sanctuary, and beyond it sweet heavenly freedom. Your father sat down on one of the chairs and gestured for you to do the same. You plop back down onto your bed and stare at him from across the room, awaiting whatever the hell it was that was so damn important.

“I have to go to Alexandria for a few days…. Don’t know how long I will be gone. You gonna be okay here for a little while without me?” He asked with a hint of both concern and sarcasm.

I scoffed at him and smirked. “Yeah, I’m sure I can handle it, dad.”

“If any of those fuckers give you a hard time….” Negan says with a low voice and reaches for something tucked behind his back.

You see him pull out a small automatic handgun, pointing it sideways at you, nodding, and setting it on the table beside him.

Your father had been a big believer in self-protection for his little girl, even before the world went to shit. He took her to martial arts training as a child, self-defense classes, and eventually the shooting range. There was no doubt that Y/N could handle herself in combat if she had to. But Negan was also aware that here she was highly outnumbered and he wanted her to be safe.

Suddenly, Y/N got an idea, a way to use this concern to her advantage. She changed her demeanor and put a slightly worried look on her voice, nodding solemnly to her father.

“Actually Dad, I know how worried you get, me all alone with all those pigs who could easily overpower me.” You lean forward and put your face in your hands, rubbing the sides of your face.

You look up at him with curiosity, “Do you think, there would be anyway you could get me a bodyguard? Someone to make sure no one bothers me while you are gone? … I know I talk a tough game, but sometimes I do get a little nervous.”

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Zhang Yixing// Sovereign - Part 2

Summary: Two kingdoms are at war with another, and being the illegitimate warrior, wildcard princess, you’re appointed to the war council - along with the youngest prince of your allied country, Prince Yixing. He’s arrogant, believes he knows best no matter what - but you’re exactly the same. (1/ 2/ 3/ 4/ 5/ 6/ 7/ 8)
Scenario: Royalty!AU 
Word Count: 3,825

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Riverdale: my new obsession

On the outside it looks like your average teen drama. But after three episodes we are beginning to see the heart shine through the facade. It is with this latest episode ‘Body Double’ that the show begins to break out of the archaic formula that high school dramas have been created by. Although the show began with some cringe worthy teen drama archetypes at least it is self-aware in its stereotypical depiction.

Cheryl’s comments regarding Kevin Keller being the ‘gay best friend’ and Beronica’s ‘faux lesbian’ kiss prove that the writer’s of Riverdale are aware of the stereotypes they are portraying, they are commenting on them as they are being performed. If this is in fact the case then why are they choosing to include these antiquated archetypes?

Let me propose a theory. The writer’s know exactly what they are doing. Presenting the audience with the stereotypical teen tale. One where the pretty girls only kiss to garner attention, a gay character is only a two dimensional punch line, and the ridiculously good looking football star is fought over by two cheerleaders that put their romantic feelings above any friendship. But with each passing episode Riverdale shows more and more how it will be breaking out of these old fashioned norms and putting them in their place.

Episode three forged B and V, a friendship that is stronger than any crush, ‘they walked through the fire and survived’. They are women who will not be pitted against each other, fighting for the attention of a man. But come together in times of need, as strength and support. This episode is filled with strong, intelligent women who have more depth than how they relate to a man. They are more than just objects. Betty and Veronica fight back against the male objectification that has been forced upon them by Chuck and his football goons. Cheryl repeats the sexist adage ‘boys will be boys’ as a way to explain why these young men feel it is acceptable to assign each girl a numeric value and score themselves on their ‘conquests’. But Veronica puts Cheryl in her place and the women of Riverdale High unite against the demeaning way they are being treated by the male populous. Even Cheryl Blossom joins operation #justiceforethel, which is justice for us all. 

Betty explains so eloquently the struggle women today face, “we’re objects for them to abuse. And when they are done with us they shame us into silence”. But no more will these strong, intelligent, beautiful women stay silent. Betty and Veronica enact vengeance for not only Veronica but for the collection of wronged women in Chuck’s playbook.

Not only does this episode discuss sexism and female objectification but it also talks to the patriarchy and struggle of women of colour. Josie breaks it down for Archie explaining that he can’t “write [her] experience” because he can’t possibly understand the struggles she has to face in life, “we have to claw our way into the same rooms you just waltz into.”

Archie is a privileged white male, with so many doors open to him, which he takes for granted. He strolls in to the Pussycat’s rehearsal assuming he is good enough to write music for them. But what he fails to realize is that Josie and the Pussycats are trying to use their music as a way to fight the patriarchy, to empower women to stand up against the gender roles they are forced into everyday, “I don’t care what you want me to be cuz it ain’t for you and it’s all for me.” Live your lives the way you want to live them ladies. Archie has rarely had to deal with this struggle. The closest he has gotten is his father preferring him to play football then write music. So at least he has a small insight into what Josie is trying to explain to him.

With this wonderfully feminist episode I am optimistic that Riverdale will put all of the other outdated stereotypes in the trash where they belong. Hopefully next we will see Kevin break out of the stereotype of gay best friend and actually show us who he is as a person. 

Homecoming

A/n: [Y/n] is Stark’s kid and an avenger, reader is gender neutral, and there’s a time skip. I think that’s it?

Originally posted by waywarddaughter

“Everyone, relax!”

Your voice carried around the ferry and you pressed a button on the side of your mask, the face of it sliding up. “You’re all alright,” you went on. “My name is-”

“You’re the White Falcon!” a voice exclaimed from somewhere in the crowd.

“Well, yes,” you said, a small smile forming on your lips. “Authorities are on there way. I must ask everyone to form a calm line to the left of the ferry. If you are injured, please stay where you are, I will assist you as soon as possible.”

Your father had been in the car with you during his terse phone call with Peter Parker, the boy you fought alongside with just two months before. He suspected something was wrong and it turns out, he was right. For once.

You both armored up and flew towards Peter’s location, having traced the phone call quickly as possible in the car ride back to the city to finish packing up your old bedroom.

Not a soul is unfamiliar with you. You are the dazzling [Y/n] [M/n] Stark, adopted child of Tony Stark, heir to his Avenger throne and company, and rising Avenger warrior. Teenagers all around have huge crushes on you, and everyone is impressed by you.

Tony Stark created the original blueprints for your suit after the battle with Loki left you stranded and alone in a crashing helicarrier. He decided then and there that he did not want you left unable to take care of yourself and trained you well.

You loved it then and you love it now. Being an Avenger-being a positive icon and a protecting symbole, it would never fail to make you happy.

So your dad decided to let you handle the ferry clean up.

“Firefly, get me police-me protocol,” you say to the A.I in your suit.

Her voice fills your ear pieces and you reposition your mask. Words are on your screen with clear instructions on what to do and what to say.

This is one of your first solo outings and you’re eager to prove yourself worthy.

“[Y/n]!”

You turn at the mention of your name and see Peter-or rather Spider-Man-rushing to your side. He’s breathing heavy and you could swear that his hands are shaking. “Do you need any help?”

You hesitate. Your father is pissed at Peter. You’re not really sure if you should let him help, but looking around at the civilians, crying and shaking and holding one another, you realize he should do something. “Gather the injured. Get them to one side of the boat. They’re going to need to get to a hospital asap. Firefly, get injury protocol to…the Spider-Man suit.”

“Karen. Her name is Karen,” Peter informed you.

Your white armor snaps tightly shut. You hold out a hand and Peter takes it, looking at you with a curiosity titled head.

Your A.I. took transfer data between suits, linking them together for easy contact.

“Get going. Hurry.”


That moment on the ferry had been the last you’d seen of Peter for a while. Anytime you asked your dad about him he got impatiently upset; not necessarily angry, though.

When you finally had enough of waiting around for answers, you went out in search of Peter.

Finding him had been easy enough seeing as he sticks to his area.

You knocked at his apartment one afternoon and his aunt opened the door. Her hair was longer than last time you spoke with her.

She greeted you with shock and was a very courteous host. “Peter’s in his room,” she told you.

Awkwardly shuffling to his door while avoiding May’s attempts to make you feel at home was like a mission itself. But it felt completed when Peter opened the door. He looked really surprised at first and allowed you in.

“Why, uh, why are you here? Not to be rude or anything.”

You stood in the middle of his room, looking really out of place. “I wanted to talk to you. Without my dad being my filter.”

Peter’s face fell at that. “So Mr. Stark didn’t send you.”

You shook your head apologetically. “No…he didn’t. I’m sorry.”

He leaned against his door, resting his head there too.

“Don’t be. It’s my fault anyways.”

“It’s not a matter of fault,” you assured him. “It’s just…” Just what?

Those unspoken words were being screamed by Peter’s sad face.

“We only spent the night together for three days or so,” you say slow. “You didn’t really get to know me all that well what with the fighting and the traveling and the…well, everything about that trip.”

Peter softly laughs, tugging at the hem of his sleeve. “Here, sit down,” he gently touched your shoulder and led you towards his bed. You two sat beside one another, shoulders touching.

“Tell me about yourself, then,” he said at once.

You chewed on your bottom lip for a few seconds, gazing nowhere in particular. “Peter, my worst memory is with that team. I was eleven at the time. My dad told me we were going on a trip and we drove all the out to get on this big helicarrier. I loved it. I met agents of S.H.I.E.L.D, played computer games, met badass people. It was by far the best. One day my dad and the badass people told me they were fighting a bad guy. A terrible guy. I paid not much attention to this. I was a stupid, naïve child. That ‘terrible guy’ grabbed me, used me to bait dad.”

You finally look at Peter whose pretty dark eyes are wide with terror. “Loki kidnapped you?”

“You’re fast. I never said who it was,” you tease, knocking your knee on his. “But yeah. He snatched me out of bed and tied me up on this roof. Dad saved me of course. Beat the shit out of Loki first. And he held me close and told me that I wouldn’t ever be in danger again. He designed a suit for me, then. And of course built it a couple years later. But that fear…that terrifying feeling of wondering whether you’ll live or die-it’s life changing. Once you feel it, you won’t forget it.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Peter asked in a quiet voice. 

You look at him intently and say, “Because I want you to understand that maybe it’s not so bad steering clear of the Avengers.”

Peter looked absolutely shocked. “Do you wish you had?” He sounded worried.

“Are you scared for me?” you tease again. He blushes and looks away. 

“No,” you answer his question. “No, I-They’re all I have. That team is my life. Literally. I have sculpted my life’s plan around them and at such a young age, too. But you have so much. Your aunt. Real friends, a real school. My only friends are a Russian spy and a 100 year old American flag. I’m homeschooled. And yes, I love it, but you might not. Peter. You have so much. You have-”

“Homecoming,” he blurts out.

“I-huh?”

“I have Homecoming. Next week. Do you want to go with, uhm…with me?”

You stare at him as you think. “What’s a ‘'homecoming,’” you ask blankly. He laughs nervously. “It’s a school dance.”

“Oh. Oh. I’ve seen movies so I am familiar with those.”

“So, ah, do you want to go? With me?”

You realize exactly what he’s asking you. Your heart beats a bit faster and you say ‘Oh’ a few more times. “Peter, I…I don’t think that’s a good idea,”  you finally muster out.

He nods, ruffling the back of his curly hair. “No, yeah, yeah, of course.”

“I do like you,” you quickly say, touching his shoulder. “It’s just-there’s moving day and my dad wouldn’t want me to-”

“To get my hopes up.”

You could nearly taste the bitterness in his words. Peter’s eyes softened out like thawing ice and he looked away from you. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have even said anything,” he mumbles.

“I’m really flattered. And if it helps, I think you’re pretty cute,” you say with a twitching smile.

Peter laughs, red blooming on the tops of his cheekbones. “I think you’re pretty cute, too.”


Moving day came in the blink of an eye. You thought over and over about Peter and his invitation to homecoming. Maybe you should have accepted it.

The dark debate left you torn and you decided to just let the situation alone. After all, you have other things to worry about.

As you taped boxes shut you daydreamed about what a real school dance would be like. People your age, swaying back and forth in the blinking lights to the beat of the music. The thought made you smile. You picture yourself in a pretty outfit and Peter wearing a matching tie, arms linked together.

But of course that image quickly disintergrates.

It’s a life that you can’t have-a life you shouldn’t have.

You’re an Avenger.

A warrior, a fighter.

You’re happy with that.

“Done with these boxes?” someone asks you. 

You stretch your arms up over your head. “Yes, Happy, I am.”

Happy checked something off on his clipboard. “Come on, I’ll send someone up to get your boxes. You gotta help me carry some other stuff onto the jet.”

You smirk while you follow him out of your old bedroom, a witty remark about him being an old man slipping from the corners of your mouth.

“Hold that thought,” Happy said, raising a finger. You frown at your comment going unnoticed while he answers a call he’s receiving through his tablet.

“You gotta be shittin’ me,” he said a moment later, ending the call and putting his tablet away.

“Who was that?” you ask, trying to peer over his shoulder into the device. “No one important,” he batted you away. “Let’s wrap this up!”

After moving some heavy equipment into the jet, you and Happy wave the jet away. “I still think you should call them back and let me be the pilot!” you say over the rushing wind.

“Not a chance, kid, not a chance.”

You pout at him, smoothing your hair back down. “Fine, fine, fine.”

“Your dad wanted me to give you these,” Happy followed up, digging into his pockets and tossing you a clinking set of keys. You cup them in your hands. “He’s given you permission to drive up to the base.”

Your wide eyes glitter. “Seriously?! Like, by myself and shit?!”

Happy eyes you, silently chastising your choice of words, but says, “Yes. Don’t crash, it’ll be my head he has.”

“Thank you so much!” you exclaim, throwing your arms around your uncle (for all intents and purposes).

The car is sleek and silver and programmed with Firefly.

“Hello, [Y/n],” she greets as you start the engine. “Your tank is filled and your suit is packed in the trunk. Where are we going tonight?”

“Home,” you reply in a pleased voice. “Let’s hit up a Sonic first, I’m in the mood for an ice cream.”

The speakers pound your favorite songs, the beat vibrating all throughout your bones. The thought ‘This is way better than a homecoming’ crosses your mind as the road widens to a highway.

Your song is cut of midverse with a phone call. You roll your eyes.

“Incoming call from your dad, [Y/n],” Firefly tells you.

“I guess we gotta talk to him,” you sigh, pouting that your singing skills were rudely cut short. “What’s up, dad?”

“[Y/n]! [Y/n], where are you?” He sounds worried-the hairs on the back of your neck stand straight. “Dad what’s wrong? I’m on the highway, driving to the base. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Thank God, she’s okay.” You assume he’s with Happy and your mom, assuring them that you’re safe. “The jet was hijacked.”

“What?! Where?!” you exclaim, your hands tightening on the steering wheel. “Keep driving to the base, stay with Vision. I’ll call you in an hour. Be safe!”

“Dad! Dad, don’t just hang up, tell me what’s going o-”

“He’s disconnected,” Firefly apologetically informs you. “I’ll search databases for more information,” she adds in a hurry. “You know me well,” you sigh, urging yourself to relax the tense muscles.

The rest of the car ride was spent taking phone calls from your parents, from Clint-who had heard about the fiasco on the news-, and gathering up information with Firefly.

Apparently some nut case called Adrian Toomes decided it’d be a good idea to try and steal the armors and weapons which your dad was having transported. But Spider-Man stopped him.

You tried to call Peter over and over but it went directly to voicemail each time. This worried you.

When you arrived at the base, you ran in to find Vision. “Has my dad called yet?”

“No, [Y/n],” he replied apologetically. “But I ordered you a ‘pizza.’ You prefer the Hawaiian, yes?”

“Yes,” you answered without really paying his question any mind. “Thanks. I’m going to call my dad. I’ll be in the kitchen in a bit.”

Your dad declined your call and responded instead with a text:

Tin-Dad-Pete is OK (10:23 pm)

Tin-Dad-Banged up a bit, but OK (10:24 pm)

Tin-Dad-Stay with Vis, your mom will be down thr in an hr (10:24 pm)

Tin-Dad-Im glad your safe (10:24 pm)

Me-I’m glad you’re safe too, dad (sent 10:25 pm)

Me-Love you (sent 10:25 pm)

Me-Vis and I are eating a pizza. CALL ME IN THE MORNING (sent 10:25 pm)

Me-AND IF YOU SEE PETER, TELL HIM TO CALL ME TOO (sent 10:25 pm)

Tin-Dad-🤗🤗 (10:26 pm)

Me-Is that a yes? (sent 10:26 pm)

Tin-Dad-💯💯 (10:26 pm)

Me-I don’t think you know how to use emojis (sent 10: 27 pm)

Tin-Dad✔Read at 10:27 pm (10:27 pm)

Me-I don’t need this slander (sent 10:28 pm)

Me-Goodnight father. (sent 10:28 pm)


A few days later

The camera shuttering and flashes fazed you a tad. 

“Miss Stark, is there anything you can tell as about the Winter Solider?” a reporter calls from the thick crowd. You don’t see him in the congregation and everything falls silent, even the cameras, as your answer is awaited. 

“James Barnes is not a threat,” you reply calmly. You hope your nervousness isn’t relayed. “Are there any questions about today’s conference?” 

The noise rises back up. Flashes and shutters; scribbling on notepads, questions being shouted out at random. 

Your mom, Pepper, walks up towards the podium and whispers into your ear, “Your dad wants you. He’s just outside, I’ll take care of this.”

You nod and wave a hand out to the reporters. Your mom takes the stand as you walk yourself out, reminding yourself not to look out to the crowd out of fear of blacking out. 

You take a deep breath when you exit the conference room. You’ve done press conferences and interviews before, even of higher caliber, but always at the side of someone like Natasha or your dad. 

You’d been given the reins for today, however, since it’s the announcement of Spider-Man arriving to the Avengers and becoming your official right hand man. The past few days were spent practicing like crazy for any questions that may arise, and when you weren’t practicing that, you were texting Peter and talking about the hijacking on the jet. 

He really saved your ass with that one. And your dad’s ass. And everyone else’s. 

“There’s the second star of the day,” your dad dramatically says once he sees you. You push the door shut and roll your eyes. “Hi, Peter,” you wave. He is beaming, looking about as excited as a little boy on Christmas morning, and waves back. 

You engulf him in a tight hug. “I’m so glad you’re alright.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he chuckles. 

“You’re kidding, right? That shit you pulled was fucking insa-”

“Ah, language,” Happy interjects from the nearby corner. 

“Er, flippin insane! You-You saved so many lives! And you saved our armor, and who knows what would have happened if that Toomes dude had gotten his hands on any weapons there and-”

Your dad claps his hands to interrupt. “That’s enough flirting for now. Why don’t we let Peter try on the suit, huh?”

“The suit?” you and Peter ask at once. 

Tony clicks some buttons and the wall that is usually used for trophies or awards slides open. 

“Oh!” you exclaim happily. “That suit.”

“Well duh, this suit,” Tony says with a goofy smile. “So let’s get it on, eh?” he says to Peter, adjusting his blazer and glasses. “There’s some reporters back there, real ones, not bloggers,” he adds, a thumb gesturing towards the conference room. “When you’re all set we’ll get White Falcon in there and she can introduce the world to her new partner-in-crime-fighting-slash-Avenger, the Spider-Man.”

Peter is smiling, but it’s a smile of disbelief, as though he can’t even process what he’s seeing. “This is…wow.”

“Right?” you ask, stretching your arms over your head. “So after the press conference Happy will show you to your room. Where is he between, he’s next to Vision?”

You choke back a small laugh. “Vis isn’t a huge fan of doors.”

“Or walls,” your dad points out. “It’s fun. And you’ll fit right in, Peter.”

Peter finally turned away from the suit case, trying to muster up some words. He finally says, “Thank you, Mr. Stark. But I-I’m good.”

Your dad blinks. Then he looks at Happy, who shrugs. Then he looks at you. 

You also shrug. 

“Y-You’re good? Good-how are you good?” Tony asks. You feel amused at his disbelief. “Well I-I’d rather just stay close to the ground,” Peter explains. “You know, be the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man? Someone’s got to look after the little guy, right?” This time, Peter shrugged. 

Never in your wildest dreams did you imagine Peter turning down a spot on the team. Each time you’d seen him, he was desperate for your father’s approval, eager to prove himself, and now…well. 

“Are you turning me down?” your dad asks, pulling his glasses off. “Think about this, alright? Look at that.”

Peter looks at the suit and a split second later Tony says “Look at me. Last chance yes or no.”

“No.”

There’s not a second of silence as Tony asks Happy to kindly drive Peter back home. 

“Uhm, can I walk him back to the car?” you ask, raising a hand like a shy kid in class. “I sort of need to talk to him.”

Tony continues to look shocked at each statement. “Thank you, Mr. Stark,” Peter repeats. You drag him away. 

“That was-”

“Surreal,” Peter scoffs, rubbing his face. “Did that just happen?”

“Yes,” you reply. “Yes, it absolutely did. What changed?” 

Peter looked down at you and shrugged a bit more awkwardly than before. “I dunno,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Little guy, you know? Besides. I had some life changing moments. I’m not so sure I’m ready for the other one.”

You chuckle and tuck hair behind your ear. You look at him and finally say what you’ve wanted to say ever since you turned him down last week. 

“Do you want to hang out with me sometime? There’s this little schwarma place in Manhattan we could go to.”

“What’s schwarma?” Peter asked. 

“Food.”

“Oh. Yeah, I’m pretty familiar with food,” he said blankly. A moment later a teasing smile captures his soft lips. You lightly punch his shoulder. “Meanie. So it’s a date?”

Peter rubbed the back of his neck. His cheeks hurt from how widely he’s smiling but he hardly cared. “Yeah. It’s a date.”


Tags:

@loeigh@calumbeans@sailorchibimoonunicorn@marvel-fanfiction@sammnipple@not-today-please-love @fly-like-a-grayson @isabellaskyliner

What Is In A Name!

She used to dream of her lover and never knew his face. She used to dream of her home but before she could take it back she was suddenly met with a different path.

Daenerys chose to look North. Daenerys chose to fight the real enemy. It costed her Viserion. It costed her and her dear friend Missandei, Greyworm and it almost took her. All her life she bled, she gave, she suffered, she withstood, she ran, she walked, she crawled, she breathed a life not befitting for a daughter of a King. As mad as her father was she was still a princess.

Home is not just an architectural vision anymore, it is in her husband. It is in her family. She remembers the fateful day he came to her shores. She remembers the moment she came to seeing his face in the cave. In the dimmed tunnel… his face like a passing shadow. Like the lover in her dreams. Even before she willingly allowed herself to at least weigh the odds of finding romance amidst a war albeit her heart had already chose. Her heart had already sought the face of her once dreamt lover and found him to be infinitely more than just a vision himself.

Aegon is his name. He did not like it. He used to say it reminds him of the lies.

“Your real name … is Aegon Targaeryan. You were never a bastard.”

 "I sure felt like one. I lived like one. I did as one. I breathed as one. I ran, fought, crawled, walked as one. That name to me,“ he spat, "is worthless!A Targaeryan? It will never conjure up to the real life I lived. What?! A prince of Dragonstone?”

“And what of the Northron Lords? The moment they hear the truth they will drop their loyalties and walk away, and maybe even kill me first.”

Arya tugs on the hilt of her Needle before breaking in to say, “I’d like to see them try!”

All awhile Sansa leaned back into her chair, her hand clasped around her mouth with disbelief.

“He lied to me! My fathe- Uncle lied to me! All those years he never spoke a word! He lied!” Jon ended with exasperation his voice shaking. The grave realisation of who he really is dawning upon him, the father he thought was his, the love he thought he deserved, the cruelty that was brought upon him he believed he deserved. All a lie. Ned Stark is a liar.

“He lied.”

Pairs of eyes drifted across the room towards the silver haired Queen. Sansa and Arya by instinct peeked up to protect their late father and even Bran who was known to be rather … bizarre drifted his attention towards the Dragon Queen.

“Even so, you would ignore the measures of which your uncle went, to even have you breathing still? Do you ignore that if it weren’t for his promise to your mother, to protect you with his life, giving part of himself away as a Lord and as a man to his wife, the Usurper would’ve killed you? Do you ignore the principles he has taught you, to be noble, true to your word and honourable? Everything that man did for you… taught you, is it all for naught then Jon?”

The Stark siblings exchanged glances, surprised at the Queens avow on their father. Yet Jon was livid.

He turns to face her before bellowing, “I was raised a bastard. Or did you forget that Your Grace? I was spat on, I wasn’t allowed to sit with my half brothers or- cousins it doesn’t matter I was looked down upon. Catelyn Stark hated my guts even if I breathed half a mile away from her she hated it. He lied to me. All my life I thought he was my father, and yet I can’t bear, that now I remember everytime he looked at me he would’ve been reminded that it was my fault I tarnished his reputation… my fault I tore him away from his wife, my fault I bruised his family! You wouldn’t have survived what I survived!”

“He wouldn’t do that Jon. Our father loved you like you were his own, and you are our own! You have the blood of the wolf and the blood of the dragon. You are a Stark-” and before Bran could finish his sentence Jon turns away and faces the firepit in an angry stance not willing to have anymore of what the three eyed raven had in say.

Silence fumed the air despite the whole party gathered around the dull room. Bran, still, as emotionless..

Sansa and Arya, glanced at each other remembering the survival they thought the other wouldn’t have survived. They’ve had this ‘conversation’ before and it proved to be meaningless.

Sam stood by the fire undecidedly choosing who to look at Daenerys or Jon, twiddling his thumbs reevaluating whether this was a great idea after all.

Tyrion sporting a glass of wine after the reveal of Jons or is it Aegon now … whichever Jon sees fit for himself, true lineage.

If the Night King knew cold, then her orbs were a furnace.

She narrowed her eyes and without notice for shaken weight beneath her feet she slowly but briskly walked her body up to him. And in a low voice, “You wish to diminish my ability to have gone through what you went through when I have never done such to you with my history. Yes I am a woman and you a man. We may not be the same, but I am just as capable. I am just as worthy. I am just as important, and in my own conviction I am just as strong. I will not try to undermine your past by repeating my own. My reputation serves enough of it.”

“Yes the Targaeryan name has its own weight and yet I will choose to not conform to the maddening ways of my past ancestors. Why? Because I know better.”

After Viserys she always thought she was the last to carry the Targaeryan name, and when she reminisced the heated arguments of her succession with her Lord Hand, she never thought the name would still continue. Tyrion looked up to the Queen he chose and realised that no matter the odds of their romance, if they levelled each other, in spite of all the stupid decisions they’ve made, the two had a chance in surviving anything.

The Targaeryans were known to marry within their own blood, to preserve their links to their dragons, the blood of Old Valyria.

Sansa finally spoke but with a heavy heart she pushes on to say, “ You maybe half Targaeryan, but you are still my brother. Then, now, and always!”

Arya follows after her and she looks to Bran who in turn nods his affirmation. She had always and even despite her mothers cruelty towards Jon, Arya had and always will, side with him. She loved Jon like he was her own brother, and there was nothing that could make her love him any less. Not even a name.

Across the room they are still locked in an impassioned gaze, their breaths catching the vapour of the cold. He clenches his jaw and finally looks down, head bent while Daenerys follows him searching for his brown eyes. She takes his calloused gentle hands in her own. The dragon inside him needs to awaken. It’s been dormant far too long. It wasn’t surrender that overcame him, and she did not accept defeat. The blood of her blood and the blood of the dragon needs to wake the dragon within, not in rage or fits of anger, but to finally accept that dragons were always meant to take Fire.

To take flight.

She curls her hands with his between their chests and whispers, “We can’t bear to lose to this when we know what is coming. You can’t run away Jon. We can’t bear to waste any more time and we will figure out later the fight with Cersei on the Iron Throne-”

“I don’t want the throne-” “

I know,” she softly assures him.

“Jon if there is one thing that I have learnt in all the lessons that I’ve been taught, that it is our choices that condemn us. You wonder why he lied, he chose to love you as his own, condemning his own life, but I imagine it would have been a joy to see you grow into more than everything your mother never lived a day to witness. The least you could do is honour that.”

That night comes and goes in memory whenever she looks at the Starks. What a man their father might have been, their mother was also lied to and it was not in anyone’s candle light to hold her to her actions. Catelyn Stark felt what any other wife could’ve felt. Her brother Rhaegar may have been foolish, blinded by love and lust, driven to annul his dutiful responsibilities for the realm and chose love. Love costed themselves and the realm. Love costs.

But Gods be damned if her husband were to take another woman. What hypocrisy that is it doesn’t matter though she knows her husband is noble and too fair and too just to act on such lust outside of their love. A man of honour in his heart. She still can’t help but wonder whether she would still be enough, even when her hair is greyed out, if anyone could tell, or even when her bones become too frail.

The door closes behind her and she feels a warm embrace around her torso. His face coming to rest beside her neck laying open kisses behind her ear.

“Have they gone to bed?” she asks.

He lets out a chuckle and continues to plant gentle caresses with his mouth while saying , “Daeron wasn’t happy, and Ned only went to bed with a promise to ride Visenya tomorrow and Lynaera wants to ride with Ghost.”

He playfully squeezes her hips and moves his hands behind her starting to unravel her gown, resting atop her bum. With every deft movement of his fingers he never fails to let his mouth leave her neck. She smiles, humming with content full in her heart and turns around to face him resting her palm on his naked chest, his lips halting but his hands never stopped.

“You promised our 4  year olds a ride with a dragon and a full sized direwolf? The dragon I can forgive, Visenya is not that large yet but Ghost…. that I can’t my love,” she protested with a gleam.

All the while he had already finished dissembling her dress before him and pushes it down her body leaving her nipples to harden in exposure. So was he. With anticipation for his Queen.

His palms rested on her wide hips and pulls her closer to his body. He smooths his hands down along her backside and pulls apart softly at her cheeks bringing her up and even closer to him making her moan her pleasure.

“What’s wrong with Ghost?” he murmured softly with a hum and touched her forehead with his, their breaths mingling with each other. “Hmm?”

“He’s far too large and the pups aren’t big enough yet for riding-”

“I don’t know if you can tell my queen but I am rather large for you beneath my underpants if you would like to participate in this riding.”

She gasps with surprise before letting out a laugh bringing her arms up to hold her husbands back pushing him down, closer to her skin. His shaft, truly… hard against her stomach.

“Mmm you got undressed rather quickly my King,” she drags her palms from under his shoulder blades across his chiseled chest and down towards the edge of his britches. Her sex grows slick with want and wetness and she wants nothing more than for him to take her into his arms and ravish her in more ways than she could count.

She pulls at the waistband and slips her soft touch towards his cock before taking the precum at the tip with a swipe of her finger and rubs it onto her slick folds.

Like a trickling hourglass Jon watches her wanton actions with hot breath escaping his mouth finding moisture on her top lip and then the sands of time gives in at its last grain. He growls like a mad wolf beneath his lungs and takes her lips in a heated battle of tongues. His hands pulls and kneads at her arse cheeks, pushing her up against his body grinding his body against hers. They’ve done this countless times before.

It should be simple and easy now and yet it was just as core shattering as the first time they laid together. In a muttered gasp she breathes out, “Jon! I want to feel every ridge of your cock inside me,” and pushes his britches down exposing his hard rod, and wraps her hands around the base of his member.

He doesn’t let her continue with anything more lest he gives in so he gathers her in his arms and carries her to their bed, her lower back just shy of the edge. She opens her smooth legs and he looks down at his beautiful wife.

Her lips inviting, her eyes a fury furnace, her tits with her pebbled nipples and probably still full of milk and he reminisces the time she had let him thirst on her rosy teats with the taste of milk on his tongue. Her chest rising and falling with hums of gasps, her curved waist and birthing hips are where he loves to handle her while pulling her up and down his shaft when she rides him. Her thighs are firm from all the riding on her dragons or on his dragon and finally her glistening cunt. A cavern he loves to get lost in and the one place he would spend to drink himself to a state of stupor.

He bends down eye level with her slick wetness and notices the mix of both their juices between her pussy lips and if rock was hard, his dick becomes pressed diamond. Her puckered clit stands out into the air and he leans down to sniff at her invigorating scent moaning loudly and licking his lips before fingering her clit between his middle and ring finger. Her body jerks at the touch and shudders at the feel on her sensitive spot.

“Jon please!” she begs and thrusts her hips upwards under his fingers.

“I love your body! Your eyes, your lips, your ears and that sensitive spot on your neck that has you shaking when I dress my lips to it and your tits when I press my tongue on your nipples sucking them into my mouth!” he whispers, her swollen lips catching his hot breath.

“I love the noises you make when I am making you feel this good, your legs and your thighs squeezing me while I make love to you my Queen.”

She gasps loudly and sits up on her elbows watching her husband feast his eyes and touch on her swelling pussy. She almost came right then and there.

“I love your pussy my love!” she lets out a whine at the words before grabbing his chin to face her and whimpering a, “Its yours my King.”

To feel love come in at his eyes, coming inside of her, or love in his gentle touch, or even when he takes her from behind. Pushing and pulling her warm snatch over his rigid cock taking her every breath.

“Please Jon,” she pleaded while he continues to play with her clit nipping at her thighs and starts moving closer to where she needs him to be and he gives her a final graze of his teeth on her puckered clit.

But he goes back to kissing her thighs. She huffs out her frustration and reaches down to his dark locks pulling at the soft tresses of hair she finds.

Finally, her abdomen tightens, and she can’t withhold her pleasure anymore. It slowly turns into bearing pain when he still skips over where she wants his mouth to be and right when his gaze catches her watering eyes she pleads once more with a shaky gasp, “Please Jon!”

He licks a stripe from the bottom of her cunt and flicking at the knob and her body clenches in a tight coil within her and she lets go. He is quick to slick his tongue inside her tight hole coaxing her juices into his mouth and the move alone has her shaking on her back.

He presses both his fingers inside tucking it agonisingly slow in and out of her pussy and shifts his attention to her nub sucking it into his mouth, holding it lightly between his teeth and flicking it with the tip of his tongue. She screams her pleasure and tightens around his fingers as he moans his lustful savour of her sweet cunt. He laps up her juices between his fingers and finds that she is about to cum again.

She struggles to push away from Jons assiduous mouth at first and finally she pushes at his chest with her feet and topples over onto her front taking in gasps of air. Her pussy, still aching, clenches at nothing and she yearns for the push of his hard rod to bring her to utmost pleasure. She rises up on her knees and hands before looking behind her at Jon with his dick in his clenched fist, breathing heavy. She moves around facing him and he moves forward to meet her, placing one knee on the bed and with his other hand caressing her face, he pulls her mouth into his. He bends down and pulls a nipple into his mouth and groans deeply before running his hand down from her face behind her to her arse.

“Turn around.” Before she goes to follow her Kings orders she grabs his hand from his cock and places it on her belly looking deep into his eyes. When love overcomes, words have no purpose. He pulls her back in for a passionate kiss and places his forehead against hers stammering under his breath.

She slowly nods her head in assurance and swiftly turns around to bare her waiting pussy for Jon. There’s no need for words in what she or he wants.

He surges forward and finally teases the head of his member on her swollen clit, sliding back and forward until he inches his cock inside her. He starts to groan and piston his cock slowly, but surely inside her. Her gasps are loud and wanton with every push inside her walls, she climbs closer and higher to release.

There is no rush to the end. They have all the time in the world. But even all the sands of time could not measure to the eternal desire to be by his side beyond forever.

“Sex joins two bodies, but making love joins two souls.”

 "Fuck Dany!“ he moans in pleasure and pulls at her cheeks, pressing them apart to behold the view of his shaft pressing in and out of her tight cunt, as she feels her own warm snatch grab at every inch of his rod. The sight enough has his spent tightening and all it takes is Dany moaning to be filled with his spent that has the both of them undone. He spills his seed inside her but he doesn’t stop.

 I love you.

He says with every push.

I love you.

She says with every tug at her cavern.

I love you.

He feels with every tightening of her cunt.

I love you.

She feels with every ridge of his shaft.

I love you.

He knows with every shattering breath.

I love you.

She knows with every whisper of her pulsing veins.

She loves him… And he loves her.

 


idk. Something like this. Lol. As promised a fanfic!

Thank You @flammafumoestproxima for encouraging me to finally write again! I think I did too much! But oh well aha!

Inspiration and quote comes from "Sex/Love” by Chrissie Pinney.

Songs I listened to while writing this: Bathing Beach EP Album by NOVO AMOR (The whole EP is awesome! There’s only 4 songs but oh goodness it was on repeat! My fav is Embody Me!)

Give me a Nightcloud who absolutely and without hesitation lays into Breezepelt because how dare he join the Dark Forest and betray every cat he’s ever known, she raised him better than that.

Give me a Nightcloud who’s positively furious at Breezepelt for taking Heathertail as a mate and fathering kits with her because she knows that he’s just doing it to keep up appearances of loyalty, just like his dad.

Give me a Nightcloud who’s wrath knows no bounds when she finds out about what Breezepelt tried to do to Poppyfrost.

Give me a Nightcloud who realizes that her own overprotectiveness was just as much to blame as Crowfeather’s distance for Breezepelt joining the Dark Forest because it made him believe he was entitled to and could get away with anything he wanted.

Give me a Crowfeather who admits that he couldn’t withstand the immense amount of pressure he was put under from a very young age, being the deputy’s apprentice and the chosen WindClan cat of the prophecy that led to the Great Journey.

Give me a Crowfeather who admits how lonely and isolated he felt, how desperate he was to prove that he was worthy to travel alongside these other cats who all had connections to each other.

Give me a Crowfeather that still grieves over the death of Feathertail, the first cat besides his mother who ever treated him with kindness without expecting anything from him, and still has nightmares about her death even after all these seasons.

Give me a Crowfeather who blames himself so much for all of the trauma he went through that he refuses to let himself get close to any cat, since all that will do is bring them harm and suffering.

Give me a Crowfeather that wanted nothing more than to give his only son the space to grow into his own cat, something he never had, but had no idea how to go about it, because he’d never known what it was to have attention paid to him without some kind of expectation attached to it.

Give me a fandom that recognizes Crowfeather as a very flawed but ultimately tragic character who was put through the ringer and then left to stagnate before getting closure on his character arc.

Give me a fandom that is actually capable of objective analysis without devolving into flame wars.

Give me a fandom that holds Breezepelt accountable for his actions instead of trying to make excuses for him.

Give me a Nightcloud that refuses to acknowledge Breezepelt as her son, because no son of hers would ever dare set a paw in the Dark Forest.

Give me a Nightcloud that understands why Crowfeather is so distant to her and Breezepelt, even if she doesn’t quite forgive him for it.

Give me a Crowfeather who realizes that he can’t bear to drive any more cats away and continue to be lonely and promises to try and do better by Nightcloud.

Give me a Crowfeather and Nightcloud that reconcile and come to understand one another better instead of constantly being hostile towards each other.

Give me a Heathertail that refuses to let Breezepelt anywhere near their kits after hearing about the incident with Poppyfrost, going so far as to tell their kits that they were fathered by a rogue.

Give me acknowledgement of the mess that’s going on in WindClan and fix it properly.

What kind of sins are the Sakamaki brothers

A/N: I’ve seen a few of these posts but I wanted to more into depth about what it is because their personalities fit well into this. I know that there are only six Sakamaki brothers. I could add Kino but I decided NOT TO simply because I don’t know him well enough.

SHUU: Sloth
This ones obvious. But sloth isn’t only just sleeping a lot. Shuu truly doesn’t have the energy to do anything. He doesn’t do school work, doesn’t put much energy into perusing his prey and just generally doesn’t have energy to do anything. He can’t be bothered. He also listens to music almost all the time. Music is a way that many people with depression use to put their minds on things that they would rather not think about.

Reiji: Envy
At first glance Reiji would seem like his sin pride. Which makes sense- it is certainly one of his sins- but it isn’t the one he’s ruled by. Reiji has been envious of the love and attention that Shuu has gotten since he was a child. He would do anything to prove to his father and dead mother that he better than his brother, so much that it’s almost an obsession.

Ayato: Pride
Even if you haven’t played the games this one’s really obvious. Ayato has been raised his entire life by his mother that he has to be the best to be worth anything. Cordelia even beats it into him on occasion. It is more than just the shallow arrogance that many
People portray him as. He has a psychological need to be the best otherwise he’s worthless and not worthy of being a prince.

Kanato: Gluttony
Another obvious one. But this is a little deeper than just a sweet tooth. Gluttony means to have an over-indulgence in something. And holy shit does Kanato over-indulge. Whether it is food or relationships he always take simple pleasures to the point of obsession.

Laito: lust
(There is triggers for sexual assault, rape, the sexual abuse if a minor and Incest, please read the following paragraph, please proceed with caution)

Laito has been taught by his mother since he was little that sex is power and live is a lie. That coupled with the extreme sexual abuse that he suffered at the hands of his mother has made Lauto and empty and emotionless man. The only time Laito ever feels anything is when he is having sex and/or breaking someone else to feel just as empty as he does.

Subaru: Wrath
Subaru is canonically a very physically violent person to begin with. Subaru takes his anger out in an unhealthily violent way. Destroying walls and property and harming the main character of the game many times. He has never been shown any proper way to vent his problems and anger when he was older so he took it out the only way he knew how: physically. This would have temporarily fixed his problems giving him incentive to keep doing it, almost like an addiction.

Day & Night

Synopsis:  After defeating Shin, Sasuke comes back to Konoha and stays with his family for two days. Set during the events of the Naruto Gaiden’s final chapter.

Length: 6592 words

Content Warning:  Rated M for some smut scenes, nothing too explicit though.

Notes: Since my thumb is busted at the moment, I figured that I might as well do something with my time. This was originally intended to be a shorter fic, but I had so much fun writing this that it just got longer and longer. This is my take on what happens immediately after Sasuke and his family are back in Konoha after defeating Shin and his clones. Hope you guys like it!



During the day, Sakura dotes on him in every way possible.



When the three of them enter their new apartment, she takes his hand and flits eagerly from room to room, pointing out this specific detail and that particular feature with great ceremony. He smiles a little as she pulls him along, her light green eyes constantly darting back to his face and her chatter filling up every moment of the tour. There is a nervous energy about her as she guides him around the house and welcomes him into their new home. Sensing that something was amiss, Sasuke keeps quiet about it until the very end.

After they stop to sit down in their living room, he asks her point blank what exactly had happened to their previous house. His wife looks down at the floor sheepishly and fidgets at the edge of her shirt. As Sarada cheerfully informs him that their old home had collapsed due to “an unforeseen loss of temper,” Sakura cringes and looks at anywhere but him.

Sasuke sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose. This had been their third house destroyed by this so-called “temper” in twelve years. There were going to be even fewer moneylenders now- if there were any left in the first place- willing to offer their services for a fourth after this debacle.

The mere thought of the state of their finances fills him with dread, but Sasuke pushes it aside as he looks up at the room in front of him. He had more important matters to focus on.

Keep reading

I hate liars. (chapter 3)

Author’s note: I know it’s been a while but IT’S FINALLY HERE. I’m so sorry I’ve had to put my personal life first this past month and had to put IHL on the back burner but hopefully, I should be able to put out content on a more regular basis once I get used to my workload. Hope this won’t disappoint. Enjoy~<3

Genre: mafia!AU, very graphic imagery, mention of rape (if you’re not comfortable with any of those themes, please do not read) // female mc

Word count: 5984 - I got carried away…

Summary: You never really knew how your father got involved in a gang but you knew what he did for a living, for the most part. When a rival gang comes to get what they’re due and your father refuses, everything turns to horror.

Originally posted by wooyoungbby

          The next morning, you woke up to an empty room. You turned around, looking over at Hyunggyu’s side of the bed. The covers were bunched up next to you and you could clearly see the imprint of his body in the mattress. He slept right next to you. But he didn’t try anything. At least not after what he had pulled last night. And for some reason, it made you relax a little. In your mind, it was clear he was some sort of sociopath but maybe he wasn’t as much of an excuse for a human being as you thought. You sat up in bed, still staring at his imprint on the mattress. In your mind, you imagined him, facing away from you, respecting the little bit of boundary you deserved. And as your mind wavered, going to a place where you didn’t absolutely hate him, going to a state of mind where he wasn’t the devil incarnate, you had to slap yourself back to reason. This was the same man who shot your father, left him for dead and then tried to rape you, all in the span of a single day. He might have some good moments, he might not be satan 24/7 but he sure as hell wasn’t worthy of your wavering heart. He was garbage. An absolute excuse for a human being. And although he’ll probably try to change the way you think of him, you’ll need to remember your mother’s words. “Choose the right allies. Fool the right people.” Although they weren’t hers, to begin with, you chose to believe those words of wisdom came from your mom. And if in your situation, that’s what it took to stay sane, you’ll gladly fool yourself into believing your mother actually talked to you while you were asleep. 

Keep reading

Beca vs Chicago- a PP3 fic concept

Please remember I know nothing about the storyline and would appreciate it to stay that way. This was just an idea that sort of spiralled out of control… it was only supposed to be short… now look what you made me do…


Enjoy and feedback is always appreciated.


*************************

Chicago looked down at Beca. His military uniform was crisp and sharp, medals glistening in the sunshine and his eyes were narrowed in determination.

Beca stood roughly a metre in front of him. Her fingers were tucked securely in the pockets of her jeans; uncaring of the fierce glare that the other man was currently sending her way. Her usual plaid shirt was left slightly unbuttoned, her tank top beneath was low cut as though she were begging for people to make a comment.

Unlike the glare of her opponent, she wore her signature smirk; her eyes dancing with amusement as her eyes roamed the military figure.

She was not intimidated in the slightest; that was something Chicago realised all to soon and so he tried to hold himself higher than her… a height tactic used to frighten their enemies. Nothing. The smirk just widened. Deflating slightly, he and Beca simultaneously turned to the woman just off to their side.

Chloe. The object of their affections.

Strands of her read hair were clenched in her fingers as she raked them through her hair in a sign of obvious despair. Her eyes flitted from Beca to Chicago and back again before taking in the Bellas who had gathered around them… boxing them in.

It was as if a fight were about to be initiated… Chloe as the referee, and Beca and Chicago? The fighters. In Chicago’s view, the winner would receive their trophy… Chloe.

Beca, however, knew Chloe better than she knew herself. She respected Chloe’s independence and freewill… for God’s sake… Beca was head over heels in love with her. The brunette was never going to give up this particular fight though. She wanted Chloe to be happy; and if she were not happy with her then, as long as she deemed the other person worthy enough… well… she would be happy if Chloe were happy.

The problem is that Chicago was all wrong for Chloe. He did not try to get to know the real Chloe Beale.

She was flustered around him; she forgets important details and information when he is around. He tried to monopolise her time instead of allowing her to be around the Bellas. He would glare at Beca every opportunity he could, and would possessively keep a hand on Chloe’s waist as if preventing her from leaving his side of her own free will.

Quite frankly, he was a jerk.

The tension was tangible; the air was dense. Lily was tempted to take out her knife just to prove that point; however Aubrey had confiscated all of her weapons upon arrival… the bitch.

Stacie, for once, was not groping her breasts and dancing provocatively. She was worried. Much like the rest of the Bellas, they had been watching Beca and Chloe for years… could this be the final straw?

Fat Amy was itching to carry him to the airport and have him board a plane to a land far far away. Bhloe is real, she’d repeat over and over again.

Who the heck is Chlochago, Flo and Cynthia-Rose would ask in confusion. Jessica and Ashley would shudder at that particular ship name.

Chicago wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. Gazing at Chloe with a charming smile, although Beca thinks it’s constipated, he starts. “Is your name Google? Because you’re the answer to everything I’ve been looking for.”

Chloe flushes slightly in embarrassment and, after quickly gazing at Beca, she turns to the Bellas who shake their heads in disgust. The other military men gathered around cheered after they heard Chicago’s words.

Beca bit her lip in thought. She needed to beat Chicago at his own game, even though it was her who suggested this competition. She had been drunk after all, and drinking is never a good idea when the woman who held her heart was being held in the arms of another. She had marched over to them and demanded this competition. It was a silent agreement that the winner would be given a chance to win Chloe’s heart.

A thought came to her. Turning her attention to the redhead who was already gazing at her in anticipation for her attempt, she smiled reassuringly. Chloe grinned back, momentarily forgetting her nerves. After what felt like hours, but in reality was only a few seconds, an obnoxious clearing of a throat interrupted them. Fucking Chicago.

Nevertheless, Beca kept her smirk in place. She was a badass; she might as well keep up appearances because she knew her own attempt would make everyone question that.

“Hey beautiful”, she started, causing Chloe to gasp at the nickname. “Are you a camera? Because every time I look at you, I can’t help but smile.”

The Bellas awe’d at the same time and the young brunette heard a couple of sniffles coming from the direction of their newest member and current captain of their group.

Beca could see Chloe’s eyes glistening with unshed tears. Beca’s words were nothing but the truth… and everyone knew it. The DJ was a closed off person; with walls higher and more secure than Fort Knox, and barbed wire constructed around the wall to keep people away… but Chloe? Chloe Beale… she was the exception to almost every rule Beca had ever made.

The redhead had waltzed into her life, as chipper as a person could be, light on her toes and enthusiastic about anything the brunette would offer her. She would pay attention to her and show her the affection she had been starved of for most of her life. She knocked down a section of her wall with nothing but her never-ending patience, ocean-blue eyes and bright smile and took residence in her heart with never an intention of leaving… not that Beca ever wanted to have her leave.

Fury and envy emanated from Chicago as he noticed both girls lose themselves in each other’s eyes once more.

The marine blurted out the next line he could think of in order to interrupt the two girls. “Do you have a name or can I call you mine?”

Beca scoffed at his chauvinistic comment, not believing he actually said something so stupid in front of an all-girl group… especially in front of one as close and familial as the Bellas. Aubrey’s jaw clenched in immediate offence and she glared at him fiercely. She had not warmed up to him at all… which says a lot.

Chloe froze at his words, her eyebrows furrowing in obvious confusion and hurt at his assumption that she were nothing more than something to be labelled… nothing more than an object to be used or a prize to be won. Her eyes shimmered once more, this time with unshed tears and Beca was so so so close to introducing Chicago to her knuckle sandwich. The short brunette had a feeling that she would need to wait behind a line of angry Bellas if their dirty looks were anything to go by; not that she would wait. She’d simply push to the front.

The DJ knew she had to do damage control and finish this once and for all. She knew he odds were not in Chicago’s favour.

“Was your father a thief? I wondered how he was able to take the stars from the sky and put them in your eyes.”

A tear fell from Chloe’s eyes; Beca knew she couldn’t stop now.


“Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
there’s nothing more beautiful
than the vision that is you.

Orchids are purple,
Lilies are white,
As hard as it is,
Don’t give up the fight.

It may take all your strength,
Your courage will arise,
Just take a deep breath,
And ignore all the lies.

You’re never alone,
For I’ll be by your side.
Wherever you lead me,
Whatever you decide.

I’ll confess to you my dreams,
For you will be there,
Love is louder together,
I’ll love you always, I swear.”


There was complete silence. The Bellas could not believe what they just heard. Jessica, who had been recording the whole event was staring slack-jawed at their ex-captain and nearly dropped the phone in shock.

For the first time in a long time, Aubrey smiled at Beca. A full-blown genuine smile as her eyes welled up and released tears of pure happiness. Whatever reservations she had had about the smaller girl when it came to Chloe had completely been erased. Those were the most beautiful words she had ever heard… she never ever expected them to come from Beca. She was almost jealous of her own best friend.

Chloe choked back a sob at Beca’s words. So sincere… so passionate… so real.

How could she ever choose to be with someone who wanted her as a trophy over someone who wanted to cherish her heart? How could she ever love Chicago when someone like Beca existed? The answer is that she couldn’t. She knew she had been an idiot for the duration of this trip, thinking she could just “get over” Beca and move on with Chicago. Such a fool.

Cheers started to emit from the crowd surrounding the three. The Bellas had started it and gradually everyone was joining in.

Chicago knew he had lost… not only Chloe, but the respect he had garnered throughout the tour. Beca’s words had resonated in his ears until they were all he could hear. He realised Chloe could never have been happy with him.

Chloe wrapped her arms tightly around Beca with never an intention of letting go… never again, at least. Her heart had chosen wisely and as everyone well knows… the heart never lies.


****

End

****


Well what did you think?


Beca’s poem was sweet huh? I took great pride in writing that a while ago. It’s technically not a pick up line, but something from the heart instead. Hope you nerds liked it

I Know I Shouldn't (Part 3)

Loki x OC

Warnings: language, violence, mild romance 

A/N: I am including characters from actual Norse mythology, as well as from the movie franchize. There might be some spoilers, I’m not writing this with any specific time line in mind.


I hurt.

I hurt, but not like before.

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Piece of Him prt. 2

Originally posted by bubblemish

Part one

Summary: You don’t really care how Castiel is back and alive, but he is. How will he take hearing he has a son? Jack feels a little more complete with two parental figures in his life.

WARNING: one cuss word…

Notes: aww I love it when the fam comes together :’)

Tagging: @summer-binging-spn I thought of you when I wrote this, hun!

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You don’t have to be a hero

Title: You don’t have to be a hero

Character: Crowley x Reader, your baby boy (OC)

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: ~1.4k

Warnings: emotional h/c, feels (and lots of them you were warned), self-doubt (mostly on Crowleys side), oh and did I mention feels?, also fluff and cuteness,

Summary: When you find your bed empty in the middle of the night and go in search of your husband, you make a both heart-breaking and heart-warming discovery and are reminded more than ever that Crowley deserves to be loved.

A/n: For @meganlpie‘s Musical AU Challenge. My song was “You don’t have to be a hero” from the Disney movie Balto III. I’ve never watched the movie but I love the song so much and it’s perfect for Crowley. Lyrics is in italics. Hope you like this and it’s anything like what you had in mind for the challenge.


You woke up to a dark room. Your first instinct told you to be very still and quiet and to listen for any sound. But even as you listen intently there was no sound to be heard. Nothing but peaceful darkness.

For a second you let yourself relax into the calmness. A good night sleep was rare and you were quite happy to use it to get some more sleep. About to fall asleep again you noticed the absence of any kind of sound. Tired but still on high alert you let your hand wander to the other side of the bed.

The absence of another warm body and the turned over, cold sheets put you in an even more alert state. Although the love of your life was a demon and did not need any sleep, he’d still lay beside you. Crowley claimed it relaxed him to know you were safe and asleep beside him and he was more productive on hells paper work with you close. You always smiled when he said that. Because you were sure it couldn’t be comfortable to work in the darkness of a bedroom when a perfectly fine desk was waiting in his office, but you appreciated it nonetheless. As his Queen you had seen things, done things, that were nightmare material but with him close you felt safe, protected and loved. The king of hell was the best thing that could have ever happened to you.

But with him missing you couldn’t simply turn over and go back to sleep. Worried you flipped your own covers over and slipped into some fluffy shoes to not walk barefoot on the cold bedroom floor. A small shiver ran down your back, your body missed the comfortable covers but you ignored the tired pull back into their warmth. You needed to check on your men.

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Shared Light: Chapter Six

IMPORTANT: If you have not read Chapters 1-5, click one of these: 1 2 3 4 5

If you have, be all means, continue your journey!


You wake up in the infirmary to your grandmother’s kiss. You smile, putting your left hand over your face. Tears begin to stream down your face.

“That stuff really hurt,” you start to laugh. “What a strong quirk.”

“You really scared me!” Your grandmother says, jumping up and down next to you. “You could’ve finished that battle earlier!”

“Yeah,” Shinsou says, sitting next to your bed. “But I can see why you did what you did.”

You look down at your arm, which is in a cast, “did I break my wrist?”

Your grandmother nods, “you flicked your wrist just hard enough to break it.”

“Looks like I’m going to need you to do my homework for a while Shinsou,” you nudge him with your cast.

“What a destructive method of trapping him,” Shinsou points to the recap on the scream. “You should’ve just thrown the seed under him and trapped him that way.”

“But then I wouldn’t have any control,” you stretch, “he probably could’ve gotten out of it before I could get him then he would’ve destroyed the seed. I needed to insure he wouldn’t attack the trunk. So I had to focus his attention on my arms. It wasn’t my greatest plan, but it worked.”

“You’re insane,” your grandmother says, handing you a cup of water. “You could’ve lost your arm.”

“I know,” you take a sip of the water then look back at the screen. “But I had to take the risk.”

“Do you think your father was watching?” Shinsou asks you.

You shrug, “the whole world was watching. Someone is bound to tell him.”

A very powerful voice echoes into the infirmary, “Y/N! We need you to come out here to start the closing ceremony!”

It was All Might, in all his glory.

You smile and get up, “well that’s my cue.”

Shinsou helps you up and you pat his shoulder.

“I’ll be okay,” you tell him, “join our class for the ceremony.”

You walk beside All Might down the hallway and he says, “I knew your grandmother made the correct decision.”

“Did she?” You look up at him happily.

“I told her that you should compete for the hero course but she advised me against it,” All Might explains, “she said you needed more than just an entrance exam to prove yourself. You needed a way to showcase your quirk in its fullest and finest form.”

“This festival sure did it, didn’t it?”

All Might nods, “it sure did.”

You both walk out into the stadium once again. All around you are cheering heroes and you see your class gathered on the field, applauding you. You catch Izuku and he waves at you. You wave back and smile. All Might helps you up on stage and he goes up to the microphone.

“After an intense amount of games,” All Might speaks to the crowd, “we have our winner. Y/N displayed that despite their heritage, they used their quirk for good. Every win was a win well deserved. After every success, they insured that their opponent was safe and healthy. Even in our final battle, where Y/N sustained the stronger injuries, they still dove after their opponent. Y/N has proved themselves worthy of the hero course. So with this win, we are announcing an official transfer. Y/N will now be a part of the Hero Course, Class 1-A!”

The crowd goes wild, “they deserve it” “The cautions they took to make sure their opponents were unharmed proves the making of a good hero.” “They are truly fit for the course!”

The announcement makes your heart pound with joy. You see Shinsou in the crowd and he gives you a thumbs up and a rare smile. You return the smile.

“Now, let us give our champion a moment to say something,” All Might welcomes you to the floor.

You walk up to the microphone and take a deep breath. You look at the crowd of students in front of you and the crowd of professional heroes around you. You need to tailor your words for the world.

“Thank you for giving me the opportunity to prove my worth to the world. I want to address the elephant in the room. I understand that my father is the infamous Half-Life, once a hero, now a villain.”

Everyone’s eyes and ears are on you. You continue.

“Everyone knows the story, the story of my parents. A hero duo, Life and Death, a pair feared by villains around the globe. When their agency put them together, they did not know what would come of it. They didn’t know they’d fall in love. But they did and they had me. My father was on top of the world. He had everything. Then five years ago, he lost it all.”

You hold your heart and let out a soft breath before going on.

“As we all know, in a battle that would go down in the history books, my parents faced off against the one and only Hero Killer Stain. They were ambushed, taken by surprise. My father was incapable of fighting after Stain wounded him to the point of no return. My mother was the only one left. She fought with all her power but could not hold him off. He managed to strike a blow. As she bled out, she had two choices. She had enough strength to heal herself or my father. She chose him. In the last moments of her life, she healed my father off all his wounds. Hero Killer Stain knew that my father was powerful enough to kill him so he fled the scene. My mother’s dying words were protect our child.

Tears filled the stadium as you told the story of your life, of the moment your father went rogue.

“Paranoia struck my father after that,” you explain to the audience with your voice and your mind clear as day, “he wanted to keep me safe but he knew Stain was still out there. He would not rest until Stain was killed. I understand that my father went against the rules of being a hero. He fought any person, villain or hero, who would get in the way of his goal. His power is strong and yes, he has killed some good people. I tell you this story because I want you all to understand that my father does not define who I am. I am not angry at Hero Killer Stain took my mother from me. I am angry that he stole the light from my father’s heart. Today, I competed to be a hero. Today, I proved that I am not here to harm, but to help. That is why I am here. I will become a hero and I will capture Hero Killer Stain so that my father’s heart can finally be at peace once again.”

The next lines you say directly into the camera lens in front of you.

“So this is my declaration of war. When I complete the hero course here at UA, I will find you Hero Killer Stain. And you will face justice in the name of Life and Death.”

You bow in respects to your new classmates.

“Thank you for your time,” you tell everyone. “I look forward to the future here at UA.”

The crowd begins to applaud and the heroes in the audience stand up, cheering you on. Everyone gets up and gives you a standing ovation.

You look over at Class 1-A and Kirishima nudges Bakugo.

“They’re going to be a great addition to the class, since they kicked your ass!” He laughs loudly.

Bakugo punches him in the face but he hardens in time. He keeps laughing and Bakugo steams up and looks over at you. His eyes look into yours like he was also declaring war. You pull your gaze away and focus over at Izuku, who is applauding with Uraraka. Then you go to Todoroki, who is slowly capping and he nods in your direction. In a way, you felt like you’ve just picked a fight with the top of the class.

This is going to be fun.

Click here for Shinsou Route: Chapter Seven!

Click here for Bakugou Route: Chapter Seven!

Click here for Todoroki Route: Chapter Seven!

Shared Light Master Copy: Here!

General Route, Coming Soon!

The Boy Trapped in Shadow

Based on this imagine over at @imaginexhobbit

Kili x Reader

Warnings: FEELS. Self-esteem issues.

Word count: 1,557

Note: I read this post and then wrote this and I am so sorry.


The child wails, coaxing you none too gently from your sleep.

“I’ll see to him, Y/N,” Kili murmurs as soon as you hoist yourself up from your pillow; he leans over, pressing a kiss to your forehead before rising from the bed with a soft groan. “Don’t worry yourself, I’ve got him.”

Once more, your cheek hits the pillow and, despite trying your hardest while Kili was changing the baby, you lay wide awake as he settles into the chair near the bed, your infant son cooing in his arms.

“Now, we must be quiet,” you hear him whisper. “Yes, we must because your Amad is sleeping. She works so hard for us, you know, and deserves all the peace she can get.”

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