arrow-head

Intimidation is key to Seduction

Context; Same party from ‘non-lethal arrow to the head’. We captured the Bandit leader, and the two other bandits we knocked out, and we currently have our halfling rogue trying to persuade the Half-Orc to cooperate because of their Lawful Good alignment. My half-elf Ranger and our Air Mephit Bard are just kind of watching to see where it goes. The rest of the party is off, talking to the Mayor.

DM: Alright, since Persuasion isn’t going to cut it.. Roll me a Nature check, to see how much you know about Orcs and Half-Orcs.

Robin: (the halfling rogue) Alright. [Rolls a NAT20]

Me: (OOC) Oh, god.

DM: …. Alright then. Well, you recall what you know about Orcs & Half-Orcs - and you recall fucking everything - and as you recall, Orcs and Half-Orcs respect shows of strength more than they would Persuasion.

Robin: Ok. Then, I take a hold of the bars, rattle them, and shout “Dance off, bro! You and me!” I also whisper over to Windy (the Bard) to play a song.

DM: Ok, Windy roll me a Performance check.

Windy: [Nat20]

Me: (OOC) This can’t be happening!

DM: ………… Alright then. Turns out, you know this song. You have played an Orc War-Song before. Now, Robin, roll me a performance check and an extra D6. Also, at this point, because of the ruckus, the other two bandits have woken up, just kind of stumbling over their words and saying “whu- what’s going on? Chief?”, and the Half-Orc replies with “The Halfling and I are having a dance-off!!”

Robin: [Rolls a Nat17 and a 5]

DM: Alright, not bad. The Bandit Leader doesn’t have performance, so let’s roll a Charisma check. [Rolls a 6] Well then. You just.. Yeah, you blow him away. He just kind of… sits down on his cot, in awe, mumbling “I’m with you until the end of my time”, and such. You know what, actually, let’s mark him down as scared and aroused.

Me: (OOC) [cackles] But does he pop a boner?

DM: Excellent question! Let’s roll a constitution check. [I can’t remember the exact number, but it was low]. Yes. Yes, he has.

Me: (OOC) Nice.

When he gets jealous (Avengers preference)

Pairings: Avengers x reader
Author notes:

  • It’s my first time writing preferences, sorry if this sucks.
  • Gifs are not mine


Steve Rogers: Well, Steve is such a gentleman and rarely loses his temper, but whenever a guy flirts, or basically talks to you he can’t help being furiously jealous. He never leaves your side and holds your waist with his strong arms, staring at his poor victim until he decides to leave.


Bruce Banner:
Bruce is really a quiet person, he always tries to contol his emotions since he absolutely doesn’t want to turn green, so even if he is jealous, he simply hides it at that very moment and waits for you two to be alone so that he can talk to you.


Thor: He’s Thor, he is worthy and everyone else just isn’t, so whenever a guy tries to flirt with you, he doesn’t lose his temper introducing himself as your boyfriend, and gladly watches the guy’s self-esteem going to pieces.


Clint Barton:
He’s a bastard, and this is one of the reasons why you love him, so when a guy goes too far with you he shoots an arrow right above his head, pretending it was a mistake and says things like “You should go away, next time you might not be this lucky." 


Tony Stark:
Tony is a genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, pretty jealous man you would add. When he gets jealous there’s no way to stop his sarcasm, he practically destroys with words the guy in question and does it keeping his usual smirk on his face.


James "Bucky” Barnes:
Bucky is quite insecure, he thinks you deserve the best in life and he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to give it to you. For this reason, whenever a guy flirts with you, he becomes quiet and withdrawn, so you immediately notice something’s wrong with him and forget about the other boy, going straight to him to make sure he knows how much you love him. 


Pietro Maximoff:
Pietro is quite possessive when it comes to you, he doesn’t want anyone to look or talk to you in a non-proper way, so whenever another guy flirts with you, he runs straight to you and threatens him using some strange Russian words that you yourself don’t understand, but they do sound pretty intimidating.


Wanda Maximoff: Wanda always knows if someone is having malicious thoughts about you, so she wastes no time and walks up to you, wrapping her arms around you in order to make it clear that  you’re taken.

Natasha Romanoff: Natasha is, well, Natasha. She can’t help telling things the way they are, so whenever someone  flirts with you, she just tells him/her not to bother you and when you two are left alone she hungrily kisses you, whispering things like “Remember that you’re mine” 


Loki: Loki becomes dangerous whenever a guy flirts with you, he uses his magic tricks to make the boy drop in his own feet or to set his clothes on fire; obviously he never means to kill, he only means to maim, or seriously injure*.

*This is sort of a quote from Harry Potter, I do love Dobby!

Spoilers for Guardians of the Galaxy 2

  • I’ve heard a a lot of people say that GoG 1 is better then GoG 2, and I haven’t watched GoG 1 in a bit, but I have to say GoG 2 is just as good. I did not leave the theater disappointed. 
  • I was originally going to go with a friend who had seen with it before, but wanted to see it again because he was ‘high as fuck’. Friend had to bail so I saw it alone, but I have to say, it must’ve been something to watch while high. 
  • First off, it’s fucking hilarious
    • Rocket and Yondu trying to get Groot to bring them the fin, and him dragging in objects that are obviously not fins, culminating with a severed finger. We do not find out where he gets it. 
    • Groot spends the entire opening dancing around the battle while the team fights a giant space monster.
    • Twice Rocket tries to say something as an aside with a wink (like insulting the high priestess) but winks with the wrong eye, so the person is offended. 
    • Rocket standing in the middle of a Texan stand-off: “Surely there’s a peaceful resolution? Or a violent one where I’m standing over there.”
    • Taserface
    • The High Priestess is walking down a long carpet to meet Yondu. The carpet gets stuck. A couple of beats is spent unsticking it wherein the swelling music stops short and everyone looks uncomfortable. 
  • Gamora in my opinion is a stronger character in this movie. There’s some flirting between here and there with Peter but her arc is mostly centered on her relationship with Nebula.
    • Movie passes the bechdel test at least in first act with conversation between Gamora and Nebula about fruit. Definitely passes in final act where they talk about their relationship.
    • Nebula straight up tries to shoot Gamora with a ship. Gamora straight up shoots Nebula with a minigun. It is brutal and gross. You can see what it must’ve been like when they were children, fighting to survive. It’s not like in GoG where the fight scene is a clean in emotional combat, this is brutal and I L O V E D I T
    • Super pleased with how they developed, addresses how Thanos abused them and how that shaped each of them. Gamora says she’s sorry for not helping Nebula but also admits that she was just trying to survive. 
    • It seems like their shaping Gamora to be ready to trust Peter. They have an argument in the second act but it’s not the pivotal moment for either of their character arcs. Peter doesn’t have to ‘win’ Gamora back, and the third act focuses on Nebula and Gamora. 
  • Drax and Mantis are super cute
    • I thought they were hinting romance in the early part of the movie but no???
    • First off I love Drax’s laugh
    • Second off Mantis is super socially awkward, Drax is slightly less socially awkward. He straight-up calls her ugly and even retches around her but also admits she’s pretty on the ‘inside’. And seems very friendly!
    • I died when they were in the garden. Drax says that this reminds him of when he took his daughter to see some lakes, implying that he sees Mantis as a daughter figure. Then Mantis touches Drax’s shoulder and uses her empathy to feel what he’s feeling. She starts crying. 
    • Dude
  • Speaking of crying. Male emotions treated as legitimate. 
    • So Peter says to Gamora early in the movie that he always wanted to have a Dad, he used to pretend David Hasselhoff was his Dad to compensate. 
      • The entire arc with Peter searching for a father figure is not a punchline. It is serious and heart warming when he gets to play catch with Ego, if a little silly. 
      • Peter has to define to himself the difference between a father, and someone who acts as one. Peter didn’t want a biological father, he was looking for someone to be his parent. Immediately Yondu is brought-up as that figure but he dismisses it, saying that Yondu kept him for selfish reasons.
      • Ego tries to be that ‘father figure’ by acting like it but is actually selfish, whereas Yondu is genuine in his feelings for Peter. 
    • Rocket is called out for acting like an asshole because he’s afraid of being loved and is also shown crying. 
    • Yondu says word for word: “I don’t control my arrow using my head boy, I control it using my heart.” 
      • From the early part of the movie is shown to have a bleeding heart. He wants to be apart of the ravagers as a family, he’s heartbroken over loosing half his crew, and he acts as the Father figure that Peter was looking for.
      • Yondu’s ‘flaw’ is literally being too soft.
      • “I am Groot” “Yeah, he did call you twig.” Kill me.
  • I always said that GoG 1 was trying to be an emotional movie with several tender hearted scenes except all of it’s characters are assholes that ruin them. GoG 2 is an emotional movie that forced it’s assholes to be tender hearted. 
    • It is a little spread out, focusing on individual characters well but the pacing was good, balancing slower scenes with faster scenes. It knew when to tell the joke and when to let the emotions run. I don’t think the narrative was as strong as the first one but the plot isn’t nearly as complicated. I also think Ego could’ve been a little less transparent, it was pretty obvious he was going to end up evil since he was the only possible character that could end up as the villain. Loved Gamora and Nebula, Yondu and Rocket, and Drax and Mantis. 
    • The movie looked great, with a strong soundtrack as usual. 
    • 10/10 would watch again.
Arrow Moves To Thursdays

Woke up to this article today and my TL looked like:

Arrow is moving to Thursday nights at 9 pm next fall for their sixth season. Reactions varied from chill to… not. Do I think this is a bad thing? No, I don’t. 

Allow me to preface this post by saying this: I’ve been talking about Arrow’s ratings and The CW network since I started this blog. Long before there was ever a ratings drop, my opinion was that The CW has a different business model than the other networks. If you cannot accept that The CW’s profitability is not based on live ratings, then this is not the blog for you. You don’t have to take my word for it. Stephen Amell confirmed it at HVFF Chicago. Mark Pedowitz has spoken about it.  I’ve done my research on this folks. They are structured differently than the Big Four. It’s just facts. (X) 

Yes, I was surprised by the move mostly because I had grown complacent about Arrow on Wednesday night. Wasn’t expecting it. I am no expert, but I’m happy to share my thoughts. I’ll talk about what I like about the move. Then we’ll shift to concerns.

Keep reading

MVP Bird

Context: Same person as from the ‘non-lethal arrow to the head’ thing. This was from the same session. My Ranger (a half-elf) has a Goshawk companion she uses for scouting. For this particular scenario, I’m trying to send the bird to check out a camp over a hill to check if it’s travellers or Bandits, and before that I also rolled a Nat 17 on spotting the Camp in the first place with the bird.

Me: Can’t I tell Fluffball (that’s the bird’s name) to like… hop twice if it’s bandits? Would they even understand that?

DM: Um.. Roll an intelligence check for Fluffball.

Me: [Nat 20]

DM: ….. Well then. You see a look of concentration in your birds eyes, like you have never seen before, and it’s kind of unnerving. Fluffball looks at you, then nods, before flying off. You can barely make them out as a speck in the blue sky, doing circling motions for a good five minutes above the camp. Ok, now roll a perception check for Fluffball.

Me: Aight. [rolls ANOTHER Nat 20]

The entire party: [starts losing their shit, laughing loudly and wheezing]

Artificer Drow: Holy shit, Fluffball! MVP bird!

Me: [sputters and wheezes with laughter]

DM: When they return, they land on your arm, and through a series of hops, squawks and flaps - think of a bee’s dance telling you where the honey is - to tell you that these are bandits, they look bad, they smell bad, there may be something in cages, and they have weapons.

Me: [barely containing my laughter]

Artificer: Ok, but, would this all kind of look like Fluffball doing a mating dance to the rest of us?

Me: [starts laughing loudly]

DM: Yes. Definitely, yes. You watch Adrie (my half-elf Ranger) kind of hold their chin thoughtfully, going 'yes, yes. oh really? very interesting.’, while Fluffball does what they’re doing.

At least the itching is almost over and it was so worth it! Amy was so nervous to draw on me she practiced on a sticky note first

I asked her to draw “however she thinks Shaws arrow looks in her head”
And to write 4A wherever she thought it would look best with the arrow.

She’s so sweet and was just awesome to do this and also you’re welcome here is shaws canon arrow shape according to Amy Acker bc she literally drew this off the top of her beautiful head

Dragon Archery

New apparel needs some new headcanons~

Overall archery was popularized for being a quiet weapon in comparison to other draconian weaponry and spells. This made for both easier hunting and stealth warfare. Also arrows, unlike magical bolts, are harder to see flying at you if the arrows are not enchanted or modified.

WIND archers are the most famous. Its rumored that a well trained wind flighted archer can take on a raiding party alone with a single shot. They can curve their arrows in the air with the help of their elemental abilities, and release arrows at unbelievably rapid rates. Wind bows are the fastest and are designed for speed over power.

WATER archers are more close combat orientated. Their arrows have curved points and tethers that latch onto, tangle, and pull down targets to the (normally) water below- where they are never seen again. Water bows pack the most punch out of all flights hold earth because they are designed to be effective under water as well.

EARTH archers are steady and patient- as well as great trackers. Targets that are not taken down after the first shot tend to spend a entire day in hiding or running from its attackers, only to be taken down the moment they leave cover or let their guard down. There are many stories of great Earth archers who spend days to weeks on stakeouts for their targets. Earth bows and arrows are the heaviest hitting and can split rock.

FIRE archers are best at taking advantage of their surroundings. They use specialized fire arrows and often light fire to their targets as well as the surrounding area. Be very careful when taking cover from fire archers, because they will make that cover a tomb in a few firey seconds. Fire archers are also known for creating a smoke screen effect - tricking armys into thinking there are twice as many archers then there actually is. Like their armor, fire bows are known for their fine metal craftsmanship, being both balanced and covered in complex designs.

LIGHTNING archers are trickshooters - known for their ‘sky’ shots - firing an arrow up, so it hits the target from directly above like a thunder bolt. This allows them to hit targets taking cover behind things with no roof and use gravity to aid in the punch their arrow gives. Lightning arrows also hold charges very well, allowing them to shock and sometimes paralyze targets. Their bows are the most consistent and carfully made/tested in order to pull off advanced shots.

ICE archers are resourceful and good ambushers. Their native landscape doesn’t give alot of materials for arrows so they are often made of pure ice magic or ice shards that are lying around. The empty tundra pushed them into the art of camouflage- a ice archer can be right infront of you and you wouldn’t notice. Their bows are often modified to resemble twigs or old bones so you don’t reconize it as a bow.

SHADOW archers are frighteningly accurate and make the best bounty hunters. The best can snag a moth to a tree with their arrows - without killing it. Shadow archers like to stay hidden and work best in the dark where they can remain unseen. Some archers have skilled magic users lace curses or similar magical tricks into the tips of their arrows. Bow and arrows are best for being quiet - and shadows are the quietest of them all.

LIGHT archers are snipers, they can hit targets over great distances. Most dedicate their lives to protecting sacred ruins and villages - effectively getting rid of any trespassers before they get close. The bows and arrows are made for distance- meaning that the farther away you are the harder it hits. Their shots are fast, some say you hear a lights arrow coming after it hits you.

NATURE arrows are almost always laced with some kind of plant toxin. It doesn’t matter if the thorny wood arrow doesn’t hurt you too bad - because the poison most definitely will in 5…4…3…2… . Archery is popular in nature because they can hit targets without disrupting the surrounding flora. Skilled nature magic users can make living arrows that grow roots in and around their target after they hit. Normally doctors suggest you don’t rip arrows outta wounds so you dont bleed out - nature, plague, and arcane arrows are an acception to this rule.

PLAGUE archers, like nature, rely on whats in the arrow to do the killing rather than the arrow themselves. The arrow heads are narrow, curved like cat teeth, and loaded with pathogens. This makes accuracy hard but the wounds from these arrows not only instantly infect but are extremely hard to clean out. Because of this their bows are best for speed rather than punch - since the arrows don’t need alot of power behind them to be effective.

ARCANE archers are masters at firing off more than one arrow at a time. Behind wind archers, they are the most famed. Their arrow heads are made of Pink Chalcedony - a glass like rock that is abundant in their region that makes non arcane dragons ill. These arrow heads shatter half the time they hit their target and leave shrapnel inside of them. Their bows are more on the powerful side, to support firing multiple arrows at once, but lack range accuracy as a result.

I started going off on twitter about this and figured Tumblr was probably a better format for it, but I’ve been raving for days over how BotW lets you kind of craft your own Link and be the hero you want to be. My thing with stuff that I like is always how immersed I can get into it, and as much as you can still put on the Link suit and be Link, Hero of Time, in any other game, BotW has just enough little stuff to make it feel a little more… individual, I guess?

You can choose your outfit and weapon of choice so, like, you’re literally whoever you wanna be that rocks.

And I’ve been losing my fucking mind pretending to be Link, the guy who can’t remember a fucking thing about who he used to be and is probably honestly not the same dude anymore anyway and that makes him so massively upset on the deep dark insides. He probably USED to be a fearless knight but he feels a stronger affinity for taking cover in the trees and picking off enemies with arrows rather than head on confrontation, and he’ll camp all night in one until it’s safe to sneak by. He spent a lot of time hunting on the plateau and wished he could do that forever, and now he tries to pretend his life before this was a humble one where he lived in the woods and hunted the wildlife bc that just feels right to him and it’s weird but maybe it’s bc its kind of less traumatic than trying to recover all these memories that are so alien now.

And he’s a great fucking cook who knocks it out of the park every time and is helpful and pleasant and is always wearing a hood

i dunno my dudes im just throwin spaghetti at the wall, i like this game ptthh pppththththt

Princess of Themyscira: Part 2

AN: It was decided on twitter that I would publish this today. I had a lot of fun writing it! Enjoy.

Words: 1299

Part One


You watch from a distance. You watch the sparing in the middle of the ring, and the groups of women that watch it only mildly interested. You move your feet ever so slightly, and the skirt of your dress makes a slight swishing sound. You miss your jeans.

    Opening your book you ignore the chatter around you, and try to focus on the words. It’s a bit difficult to understand, you know very little greek. Only the few phrases your mother had taught you through your life. Your grandmother had insisted on a more formal education.

    In the six months since you’d come to your new home, you’d been immersed in your studies. You’d learned greek, and the amazon’s history. You hadn’t however, made any friends.

    Despite your grandmother’s protests your mother's’ sisters avoided you. If you entered a room, then they left. It stung more than a little bit. As the fighting got louder, and as a result the cheers, you gave up on your book. Leaning back against the column you gave the fight your full attention.

    Artemis was someone who liked to win. She was strong and fierce, and she reminded you of your mother in that way. She also tended to be cruel at times. She showed no mercy, and even littler patience. You avoided her to the best of your ability.

    As she once again claimed victory you slipped away. Your rooms were near your grandmothers. On most nights she would join you in them, and tell you stories of the Amazons, and of your mother. Tonight however, she was dining with some of her sisters. You had been invited, and carefully rejected the offer.

    You collapse on your bed and watch the sun set. When the darkness envelops your room, you shred your dress, and make your way to the locked trunk on the other side of the room. You remove the key from around your neck and unlock it. You carefully remove the workout clothes you had brought from home, and slip them on.

    You take a moment to look at the other things in the truck. Other clothes, pictures, and important documents. You close the lid, before you let your mind wander into the past. Dressed and ready you slip from your room and into the surrounding woods.

    Your parents had never wanted you near the fighting. They had never wanted you to follow in their footsteps. But being a Wayne, being Batman and Wonder Woman’s daughter brought a special kind of danger to your life that could never be escaped.

    Your father had taught you how to move, how to escape and how to hide. Your brother had taught you how to fight. The lessons had been hard and unforgiving, but then again, everything Damian did was that way.

He’d always had sense for these kind of things, of what the future would hold. Unlike what most people thought, Damian was actually a very caring older brother. At least he had been to you. Something to do with blood relation.

All your brothers had spoiled you though. You’d been the baby. Their sister. The one who was never supposed to go through what they had. Yet here you were, running through the jungle on an Amazon island protected my magic.

You run until your legs go weak, and your lungs burn. You go until you just want to collapse. And you do right into the sand. It’ll be pain to wash out of your hair, and an even bigger pain to run back in. But you don’t care. The feel of the sand, and the sound of the waves brings you a bit of peace you hadn’t had earlier.

“You still cling to man’s world.”

You want to curse at the sound of the voice. Any peace you had achieved flies out the window as your body goes tense. You crack open and eye to stare at Artemis. She’s dressed in the same outfit she had been fighting in earlier. There’s still blood on it.

You let out a sigh, “They smell like home.”

“This is your home now.”

You stare up at the woman for a moment, before sitting up, “Could have fooled me.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

“That you don’t want me here. That I come from man’s world, and I am a taint upon your precious Amazon blood.”

You see the fire rise in her eyes at the statement, “And who told you that, tell me and I will cut them down.”

You quirk an eyebrow in surprise, you had heard the statement in passing. You weren’t even sure who said it, and to be honest you didn’t care. You’d grown up being the target of every tabloid imaginable. You knew how to ignore things that weren’t true.

Standing up you brush the sand off the best you can before saying, “It doesn’t matter.”

She reaches out and grabs your shoulders, “It does matter you are our sister.”

You eye the hands on your shoulders, and you feel the first flare of anger, as you grip her wrist and twist. You pin her arm to her back, and you’re certain that you can only keep the hold for the few seconds you do, because she’s stunned. She quickly breaks it and turns to face you.

You circle each other for a minute before you both charge. What follows is a knock down, drag out fight. By the end of it you’re both lying on the sand panting. You’re bother battered and bruised, but you’re far worse off than she is. And the only thing you can think, is that you would have made Damian proud.

“You fight well young one.”

You turn your head, wincing as you do so to stare at the woman. She’s already sitting up, and she’s grinning.

You look back to the night sky, “My brother taught me how.”

“And what has happened to him.”

“I don’t know. That’s the worst part. I don’t know if my brothers are dead or alive. Or what’s happening to my friends. It’s the unknown that haunts you.”

Artemis stays quiet for a minute before saying, “I’m sorry that I can’t help you know.”

You laugh, and then groan, “I’m sorry for attacking you.”

“You have spirit little one.”

You smile at the woman, before turning back to the sky. The two of you stay there staring at the stars until the sun breaks through. You don’t talk to the woman for several days after. To be honest you kind of avoid her.

But Artemis is stubborn, and she tracks you down. You’re reading in a tree when that first arrow sores past your head, and embeds itself in the bark. You stare down at the crazy woman whose shot had drawn a fair amount of attention.

“Come little one, it is time for your lesson.”

You do your best to hide behind your book, until you feel the tree shake as she climbs up it. She sits on the branch in front of you and simply says, “You can not spend all your time in books. It would be a dishonor on your mother, and your brother who taught you.”

You continue to stare and she simply says, “You’re small, but you’re crafty. While a direct approach may not work well, a long distance one will. For that you will need a bow and arrow. May your aim be true.”

And between the seriousness of Artemis’ statement and thoughts of Oliver Queen and Roy Harper all you can do is laugh. Because you know your father is turning in his grave. And despite that you take hold of the bow and follow your sister through the now gathered crowd towards the practice field.

Non-lethal arrow to the head

Context: This is my first DnD session, as well as for most of the other players, but there are a few experienced DnD players, including our DM. Our party consists of Two rogues (a halfling and a Shapeshifter), an Artificer (a drow), a Bard (an Air Mephit), a Cleric (another halfling) and a Ranger (me, a half-elf).
We are doing our first combat against a group of Bandits, the leader of which is a Half-Orc. Half-orc is on his last legs, and all other bandits have been knocked out (save for one, which i shot).
Also, we were playing on Roll20 due to living in different countries.

Me: Ok.. I’m gonna do non-lethal damage to big guy, it should knock him out. Hopefully.

DM: I’ll be kind and say yes, you can do non-lethal damage with your bow.

Me: Sweet. [rolls for hit, and ends up rolling two Nat20]

The entire party: [collectively LOSES THEIR SHIT]

DM: I– Uh, yeah, that’s just.. That hits. You draw your bow and aim, watching the Bandit Leader flail his scimitar around wildly, and as you fire the arrow hits his helmet so hard, it knock him out.

Me: [wheezing with laughter] Holy shit. First the mvp bird, and now this.

Warmth in the Winter - Daryl Dixon Smut

gather y’alls holy water because y’all will need it after this.

dedicated to the amazing human bean that requested kinky daryl. ya done got my fucked up.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - I WRITE FOR TWENTY ONE PILOTS AND TWD.

Pairing: Daryl x Reader

Type: ANGSTY SMUT

Setting: Alexandria era

Warnings: angry daryl, carol, winter, sex, sex, SEX, kinky daryl, restraints, choking, blood, edging/withholding orgasm, dirty talk, i think thats it?

enjoy, my sinners.

Originally posted by fifty-shades-of-mara

Your legs were propped up on the fireplace of your house in Alexandria and your back rested against the sofa chair behind you. The warmth from the fire radiated from the ashes to your feet and you wrapped the blanket draped around your shoulders tighter to your body to trap in the heat. As you took in a breath, you exhaled by wheezing from your scratchy throat. You sniffled and nuzzled your face closer into your book as you heard the front door open and cold air gush in. 

It was an unusually cold day in Alexandria and if there was one thing you hated more than talking to people, it was the cold. It made your lips chapped, made you sick as all get out, and it was so much work to get back warmth. However, the cold gave you an excuse to sit inside and not have to face people. Ever since the group with the leader named Rick joined, things in Alexandria finally began to slightly look up. You had been in Alexandria since the very beginning, so you never really had to fight unless times called for desperate measures. You were very nervous around their group, as they all seemed very placid and standoff-ish. After they had finally settled into their separate houses, you had gone to the couple, you assumed, named Abraham and Rosita, living next to you and offered to have dinner with them. Rosita slammed the door in your face and that was how you had first met her. You took it as a lesson and only spoke to them if you needed. After all, you were practically invisible in this community. You live alone in your house and offer your services to guard the gate. There was one person in the group that had didn’t seem too guarded and her name was Carol. She was the one person you talked to the most. She would come over to your house or you would go to hers and you two would exchange various recipes. After a few times of going to her house, though, you preferred for her to visit yours. The man she lived with, Daryl, would make rude, snide comments every time you were around and you felt extremely uncomfortably under his heavy stare. If you weren’t so timid, you would’ve slapped him by now.

“Hey! Where are you at?” Carol’s voice chimed through your living room. You pushed yourself up and set the book and the blanket down on the chair behind you.

“I’m here,” You responded, coughing up a lung in the process.

“Oh God, it’s this weather that’s made you sick isn’t it,” she sighed, grabbing a pot from under your stove.

“I can’t seem to make out why it all of a sudden has just gotten so cold,” you rubbed your hands over your dry skin.

She looked through your cabinets, looking for whatever recipe she was going to show you today.

“Damn, you don’t have any broth,” she said, shutting the cabinet and putting back the pot.

“What were you going to make?” you asked.

“Well, I was going to make you some homemade chicken noodle soup, but it appears you don’t have the ingredients,” she paused, grabbing your hand and leading you to the door. “I will just have to make it at my house.”

“Carol, no, you know I can’t stand Daryl,” you whined.

“Look,” she said, leading you out the front door into the frigid air. “You need some soup and possibly some medicine. If he says anything I will just slap him or something. He listens to me, I promise.”

You groaned as you walked through the cold air, wind cutting into the skin on your face, wrapping the worn jacket tighter over your body. Carol lead you up the stairs to her house and you entered, warmth engulfing your body again. You shed your jacket, hanging it onto the coatrack, and you headed into her kitchen. You saw Daryl lounging on the sofa, cleaning his arrows. At the sight of you entering and looking at him, he looked into your eyes, and for just one slight moment you thought he wouldn’t say anything. But you were wrong.

“What the hell you lookin’ at?” he asked. You averted your eyes to the ground and he went back to cleaning his arrows. You shook your head and headed the the island that sat in the kitchen. Carol was already preparing the stove when you asked, “Are you gonna show me the recipe?”

“Maybe some other time,” she said as Daryl got up, walking into the kitchen and stood right next to you, as if intentionally winding you up. You stiffened as you felt his eyes land on you, then down your body. “But for now you just need to get well. Daryl,” she addressed and he tore his eyes from you to meet hers. “Can you please get her the medicine from Denise?”

“I ain’t getting nothin’ for her,” he said, starting to walk back to the couch.

“Daryl,” she said more stern, as if reprimanding a child. 

“The hell’s she ever done for me?” he asked. You focused on the bubbling broth on the stove. Daryl sighed and muttered something under his breath before grabbing his crossbow and heading out the door, making sure to slam it.

“What have I ever done to him? You asked, anger bubbling in your chest.

“Don’t worry about it, he’s just Daryl,” she said resuming her recipe.

“Shit,” she cursed, slamming the cabinet door. “I should’ve told him to grab me some carrots.”

She walked to the door and threw on her jacket, talking to you in the process.

“Sorry about this, I will be right back. If Daryl returns, just don’t egg him on. Watch over the broth for me.”

You didn’t even have a chance to argue before she shut the door, leaving you in silence. You rose from your seat, looking into the pot where canned chicken broth bubbled. You clutched onto the wooden spoon, stirring it ever so softly.

The front door opens and closes again after a few minutes and you look up to see the dark eyes of Daryl. He carries the bottle of medication in his large hand and gruffly sets it down on the counter next to you. 

“Thanks,” you mumble, eyes locked on the soup. He scoffs in response.

“Yeah, whatever, you should be thankful.”

Something deep inside you snaps and maybe it’s because of the sickness you had or the raging sexual tension you endured when around him, but you don’t hold back as you throw the spoon back into the pot.

“What the fuck is your problem?” You roar.

“Woah, see that? You can fuckin’ talk,” He rolls his eyes. You storm from around to the island to right under his nose.

“What the fuck did i do to you? I’ve barely spoken to you and you are always fucking commenting on me or staring at me! Either stop fucking talking to me all together or tell me what the fuck I’ve done wrong!” you shout. Daryl pauses for a moment, and you see something in his eyes that you’ve seen too many times. But this time he acts on it. He grabs you by your shoulders and shoves you against the nearest wall and boxes you in with his arms.

“Wanna know what the fuck you did wrong?” He mutters, anger dripping from his voice. “I’ll tell you. Ever since I first saw you, I can’t stand it. You’re always parading around with that perfect fuckin’ body of yours and all I want to do when I see you is pin you down to my damn bed and fuck you so hard you can’t see straight and you’re screaming my name and squirting all over my cock. And that’s what I’m gonna do,”

You look up at him, eyes wide, a nervous lust coursing through your body with Daryl’s words. “B- But I’m sick, you’ll get sick.”

“You know what, I wish I gave a damn,” he moans, getting closer to your face.

You take his sentence in and your breath hitches, looking into his eyes. With your newfound, lust-powered confidence, you pull him close to you, almost kissing him and whisper, “Then fucking kiss me already.”

The second the words leave your lips, you pull Daryl’s face to yours, roughly dragging your lips over his. He sloppily kisses you and throws his hands around yours and shoves them against the wall above you, locking your arms above your head. You gasp as his hands tighten over your fragile wrists.

“You’re so damn quiet all the time, who knew you could be so dirty,” he groans. Keeping one of his hands locked around your wrists, he drags his hands down your body and feels for the button of your jeans. His lips harshly suck on the skin of your neck as his hands delve into your pants, coming in contact with your panties. His fingers start to rub your clit and you moan out loudly. He pulls his hand back and you whimper at the loss of contact, but suck in a breath when his fingers dive into your panties. He runs a finger up your already-slick folds, collecting the wetness on his fingers. He pulls his hand back again and holds the finger up to your face.

“Such a fuckin’ dirty slut. Lick my fingers,” he commands and you are far too aroused to argue. You run your tongue up his finger, tasting your salty-sweetness. You wrap your lips around his fingers, as if teasing him. In the midst of your acts, you hear Carol’s voice outside talking to whoever was accompanying her. Daryl whispers in your ear, “To be continued.” 

You button your pants and shakily walk back to the stove, smoothing your hair over your neck where there was undoubtedly love bites. Daryl goes to lounge on the couch, then Carol enters, hanging her coat back up. You reach for the medicine and get a pill out and Carol takes a closer look at your face.

“Your cheeks are flushed,” she points out. You reach for your cheeks. “Do you feel worse?”

“I’m okay, I think it’s just a bit… hot in here,” you shrug, looking at the ground and slipping the pill in your mouth and sitting at the island while she continued to make you soup.


It’s late that same night and you are just getting out of the shower. The towel was wrapped around your body and you turned to look in the mirror at your reflection. You pull your hair back and gaze at the single bruise that stayed planted on your neck. Your eyes were glowing with excitement and you wondered if he was going to show up at your house that night. You don’t know what had happened to you, but you had no problem with it. You dry the rest of your body off and slip a shirt over your bare breasts and slip a pair of pajama pants on on top of some black panties. Like clockwork, your front doorbell rings. You walk out of your room and into the foyer of your house. You reach for the door and open it. Daryl rushes in, almost as if he was going to be late, and slams the door behind him. He grabs your face and connects his lips to yours, not an ounce of gentleness in him.

“Lead me to your room right now,” he gruffly mumbles. You comply, walking quickly to your room with him in tow. You turn to face him, back to the bed and you fall back, arms open and legs sprawled out. He moans slightly, but crawls on top of you, shedding his shirt in the process. He grabs the thin shirt you’re wearing and nearly tears it off of you. He groans again when he sees you’re not wearing a bra. He presses his hands to your breasts, tweaking your nipples as his mouth comes in contact with the left nipple. He licks around it and gently bites it, doing the same to the other. He massages them together and kisses in the valley between, his lips sloppily making wet kisses all the way down to the elastic of your pants. He hooks his fingers in the waistband of your pants and panties, dragging them down your legs. 

“God, I’ve been thinking about this cunt ever since our encounter earlier,” he says, his mouth inching closer to your center. However, when your hands tangle themselves in his long hair, he shoots himself up. He turns to your closet, yanking it open. He sees a flannel and yanks it off the hanger, turning back to you. He crawls on top of you.

“Put your hands up,” he commands. You gladly put your hands above your head, smirking at him. He ties your hands together in a tight knot.

“Listen here,” he whispers, his hands reaching up to wrap around your neck, constricting your airways. You moan. “You like this don’t you, you dirty girl. But one thing, you moan, you get punished. Got it?”

You nod, gasping for air when he lets go. He scoots down back to your core and settles his head between your legs. He lightly blows on your core and you’re already biting your lip, fighting moans threatening to tear from your chest. He finally licks a stripe all the way up your core, and your breathe in hard. He continues licking until one of his fingers dives into you suddenly. Your hips jolt at the contact, and you fight the feeling to moan. You feel your climax approaching fast and furiously, and you clench as tight as you can around his fingers. However, when his tongue comes in contact with your clit as his fingers ruthlessly dive into you, you let out a yelp, forgetting the rules. All at once, his actions stop. You pick your head up, gazing at him. He sits back, unbuckling his pants. He slides them down his legs and steps out of them.

“I done told you to not speak a word,” he mutters.

“I… I just…” you whimper as he slowly crawls over you again. 

“Look’s like you need to be taught a fuckin’ lesson,” he shrugs. Suddenly, he flips you onto your stomach and grabs fistfulls of your backside as you rise on all fours. Your arms are twisted against the bedpost, but that was the last thing on your mind. Without any warning at all, he shoves himself inside of you, already setting a pace.

“Speak,” he moans. “Tell me how good it feels.”

You immediately yelp out, “Shit, Daryl, you feel so good!”

He continues to relentlessly thrust into you, making the bed rock violently underneath you. Each time he thrusts, the bed hits the wall and your sure your neighbors can hear you moaning. Daryl reaches down to the flannel shirt and rips it untied, reaching down to wrap his hands around your throat again. He pulls your neck upwards, your body sitting straight up against his chest on your knees. With your new freedom from the restraints, you reach behind you, grasping at his hair and pulling it with the pleasure pulsating through you. He thrusts into you at the same pace and you moan out as his fingers leave bruises on your neck.

“Please, Daryl,” you gasp.

“Please, what? Use that quiet mouth of yours.”

“Fuck me harder,” you say.

A scream tears from your throat as he thrusts up into you even faster now. He finally realizes he hit the spot he’s been looking for when you throw your head back against his shoulder, not holding back moans as his other hand works on your clit on vigorous circles.

“Oh… oh shit,” you curse as you feel yourself approaching the edge, clenching around him.

“You better not cum until I say,” he says through gritted teeth, giving your throat one last squeeze before he throws you back down on all fours. He continues his thrusts and your hands are squeezing the sheets tightly and your teeth have sunk into your bottom lip, droplets of blood seeping into your mouth. When Daryl pulls out, you’re shocked at the sudden loss of contact, but he flips you on your back again and pushes your knees up to where your legs were going over his shoulders. He thrusts into you again, showing no mercy as he pushed your legs farther up. You screamed for him, nails running down his back so hard you’re sure you drew blood. 

“Not yet,” he muttered, voice breaking as his own end was approaching. You screamed again, the pleasure too much for you to handle. You felt like a dam about to burst.

“Okay, baby. Cum for me,” he says. The second the first word left his mouth, you came with a shout, twitching and moaning repetitions of his name, the sound of skin slapping skin, moans, and the bed hitting the wall shaking the house. You kissed him through your climax, the passion and pleasure spreading through your body like a wildfire. You twitch beneath him as you finish your high. He still thrusts into you, but pulls out after a few final sloppy thrusts and starts to finish himself off over you. You move shakily, still surfing the aftershocks of your own high, so that you can help finish him off. You quickly wrap your hand around his slick shaft and pump, tongue teasing his head. He finally moans your name one final time before his load shoots out and coats your hand. His breath evens out and he sits back.

“Didn’t know you was a squirter.”

You chuckle slightly, “Neither did I.”

After you clean yourselves up you convince Daryl to stay the night and sleep with you, and he finally reluctantly agreed, crawling under the sheets with you.

“You’re gonna get sick, you know,” you say, sleep making your voice groggy. He shrugs.

“That’s honestly the least of my worries right now.”

“Why is that?” you inquire.

“Normally, I never woulda done something like… ya know, that. But this whole zombie apocalypse thing has made me think, why not take some risks ‘cause who knows what could happen tomorrow,” he says, thinking hard about his words, as if he was a child trying to put a sentence together.

“I can relate to that wholeheartedly,” you softly smile and pull him in for one last kiss before turning over and letting your heavy lids down and your soul slip into a sleep.

requests are open - i write for twenty one pilots and twd.

😊He’s A Tattoo Artist (Ethan x Reader)

Summary: Ethan is your tattoo artist and while he’s tattooing you, he slowly falls in love with you

A/N: I was originally going to make this a blurb with both of the boys, but I decided to just do E :)

You walked in wanting to get a small palm tree on your wrist with “good vibes” written with it. That’s all you went in for. You didn’t expect your tattoo artist to be extremely attractive or extremely badass.

“Hey there. What can I do for you?” He asked as he flashed a famous smirk.
“Hi I would like a tattoo?” You said with little confidence. He chuckled at you. You were a tattoo virgin and he could tell.
“Well I figured that since you came in here today. What would you like tatted? A butterfly? A flower?” He asked in a mocking tone.

“Actually I would like Good Vibes with a tiny little palm tree next to it on my wrist please?” I asked with a shy smile. I showed him the image on my phone and he shook his head with a low chuckle. “What?” I asked confused.

“I did a tattoo just like that a few days ago. Let me see your ID.” I handed him my license while he makes a copy. I fill out the paperwork too. “Nice you’re over 18. Come to the back.” I followed behind me and he pointed to a bed. I sat on the bed and looked at him. “How do you feel about arrows?” I cocked my head confused. “I’m a vibes guy myself.” He starts organizing his colors. “So I can give you a great Good Vibes tattoo, but the catch is, I’m not going to show you what I’m going to tattoo on you.” I opened my eyes wide at him while I was obviously confused.

“No way.” I tried to stand up, but he stopped me by placing his giant hands on my thighs, holding me down.

“Trust me.” He says and I let out an exhausted sigh. I don’t know what made me decide to trust him.

“What if it’s ugly?” I asked as he was getting the needle ready. He let out another chuckle.

“Trust me, if it’s on you there’s no way it can be ugly.” I felt my cheeks begin to heat up as I knew I was blushing. “So do you trust me?” I nodded and he smiled. “Good. Let me see your arm. No peeking okay?” He says taking my hand in his. I closed my eyes as the needle etches into my skin.

***

“Done.” I heard the tattoo artist say and I see my entire forearm had a new design inked inside.

“Oh my God. It’s gorgeous.” I said in complete awe at my new ink. I looked to my artist who was grinning. “How much do I owe you? I was told the other was going to be about $120 with a tip.” He shook his head and laughed again.

“Well $120 won’t cover this.” I open my eyes wide again. “But maybe dinner after I get off? Around 7?” He asked me completely taking me off guard.

“Like a date?” I asked sounding dumb. I shook my head as he chuckled. I could see he had his bottom lip tatted. “Why me?” I asked and he rolled his eyes with a laugh.

“Well for starters you’re hella cute.” I felt my cheeks heat up again. “You surprisingly took your first tattoo a lot better than most people. You picked a reasonable first tattoo. You have a cute smile, you just every so often would jump and make a little yip sound that sounded really childish and for some reason I couldn’t stop smiling. Plus you’re super trustworthy of someone with a needle and some ink.” He smirks and I smiled.

“How many other girls have you asked on a date after you tattooed them?” He shrugs.

“None.” He smirked again with a light chuckle.

“Are you lying to me?” I asked cocking my head.

“I don’t know. Do you trust me?” We locked eye contact as he folded his arms and rested on my thighs.

“Yes?” I questioned. He leaned up off of my thighs.

“Good. I’ll see you at 7 then.” He smirked at me as he pushed his seat away and holding his hand out for me to take so he could help me up.

“Wait I don’t even know your name.” I giggled. He smiled at me.

“It’s Ethan. I’ll probably be wearing this exact outfit tonight at The Grove.” I nodded.

“Wait. I can’t afford that place! It took me almost three months to save this much for a tattoo.” I said. Ethan just rolled his eyes again.

“I don’t think you understand how dates work sweetheart.” I felt my stomach start to flutter again. He was honestly the cutest.

“Thanks.” I smiled. “See you tonight.” I then felt a burst of courage and I pressed my lips to his cheek.

Originally posted by sensualkisses

I pulled away before leaving him speechless. I walked out of the shop without another word.

Context: I’m running a 5e game where the players recently reached level 4. I have a rogue-acting-as-ranger who has taken the assassin archetype. They failed their survival rolls and stumbled upon a small group of three goblins. The rogue was scouting ahead and saw them first.

Rogue: I’m stealthed still, right?

DM: Yep. They haven’t noticed you yet.

Rogue: I want to shoot them with my bow.

DM: Okay. They’re ¼ CR so if you miss I’m going to laugh.

*Rogue rolls several perfect rolls and deals over 30 damage to a goblin with less than 10 HP*

DM: Little did you know that the goblin was tinkering with an explosive and as you fire your arrow through his head, he sets it off, and the other two goblins go flying apart in all directions. The rest of the party simply sees this small mushroom cloud of fire a couple hundred feet ahead.

s p a c e m a l l | Yondu/Reader SFW

request: How about something where Yondu and the Reader meet when the Reader helps Quill find Yondu after getting lost in the space equivalent of a shopping mall and the two hit it off?


(This is seriously so cute. I decided to set it not long after Yondu first picked Peter up, since it makes more sense to me for an earth kid to get lost in a space mall lol. This also turned out different than i expected oops)

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Hello! I have my own bullet journal and I was wondering if you had advice for bullet journaling for students? I really want to incorporate it into my bullet journal because my bullet journal is practically my life now.

Hey, thanks for asking!

BULLET JOURNAL TIPS

  • Make your bujo fit you - minimalistic and practical, or a little more decorative and whimsical - it shouldn’t hinder your lifestyle or make it difficult to maintain. 
    • For me, I just like the idea of having lists of things and habit tracking. For day to day tasks, the standard format of listing things you have to do is what I prefer so I actually use a planner for that. 
  • Most students just need a to do list essentially, so the normal Mon-Sun format works pretty well. There’s not really a need to have parallel time ladders because we basically go to school then come home, rather than live like freelancers who have strange schedules. 
  • Keys should be intuitive - Sure you might forget occasionally what one symbol means at the beginning, but after you get used to it, a key page isn’t really needed, because it’s inefficient to keep turning back to the key page regularly. 
    • Hence, don’t try and encode more than you can handle. 
  • Have a pouch? I find it useful for storing bits and bobs for decorating. 
  • Choose a size that’s good for you as well - portable but large enough for the amount of planning or writing you need to do. 
  • There are two types of lists though - continuous, and finite. 
    • Continuous lists are things like expense trackers and book/movie lists that just keep growing, so they’re sometimes tricky to guess how many pages you need. For those, it’s nicer if you use a spread (like two pages to a view at a time, and then when you make another one, on the original list, place a little arrow head with the page number of the new list, so that you can continuously jump to the book/movie/expenses/etc. list. There’s a name for it but I forgot what it’s called. 
    • Finite lists are usually something like calendar trackers e.g. year in pixels, and those are usually pretty easy to plan out. 

Hope these tips help! ^__^

Spy Date

A/N: Still can’t get the Keep Reading link up. Again, I’m sorry for the space I’m taking up on your dashboard.

Dad!Tony x Daughter!Reader, Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Summary: The Avengers spy on you and Peter on your first date.

Word Count: 2,660

“DAD!”

Tony jumped at the sudden intrusion of your voice. He looked up to see you, a bright smile on your face.

Tony sighed, wiping his hands with a dirty rag, “Try not to do that when I’m working. Unless you want things to blow up, in which case, do it all you want.”

You blushed, rubbing the back of your neck, “Sorry.” You took a deep breath, “So, I have some exciting news.”

Tony raised an eyebrow, “Does it involve me?”

“Not really.”

He waved a hand, “Then I’m not interested.”

You rolled your eyes, “Daaaad.”

Tony chuckled, “I kid. Seriously, I’m not that heartless. What’s up, buttercup?”

You put your hands together, grinning widely, “Peter asked me out!”

Tony froze, processing your words. “Peter? As in Peter Parker? Spiderling Peter Parker?”

You put your hands on your hips, “Do you know any other Peter Parkers? Of course, it’s him, Dad.”

Tony nodded but said nothing. Instead, he started to walk out of the lab.

You raised an eyebrow, “You’re not going to say anything?”

He stopped, turning back to look at you. He placed a hand on his head, “Sorry, hon. Uh, that’s great. Where’s he taking you?”

“Well, first we’re going to eat at the Brooklyn Diner.”

“Cheap.”

You narrowed your eyes slightly at him, “Then, he’s going to take me to Central Park.”

Your dad scoffed, “That’s not much of a date.”

“It is only the first date.”

Tony blinked, “First date? Are you planning on having more?”

You shrugged, “Well, assuming it goes well, probably. Plus, I really like him. So, yeah, we probably will have more.”

Tony rubbed his chin, “Interesting.” Without saying another word, he walked out of the lab.

You furrowed your eyebrows, confused, “Ooookay?”


“(Y/N)’s going on a date.”

Clint chuckled, “Is that why you called us?”

Tony crossed his arms, “This is very serious, Barton.”

Natasha rolled her eyes, “No, it’s not. You’re making this serious. She’s a teenage girl.”

“My teenage girl. “ Tony said, pointing to himself.

Sam shrugged, “What difference does it make? Let her have her fun. Besides, it’s only the first date. Nothing ever happens on the first date.”

Steve nodded, “And, besides, she’s going out with Peter. He’s a good kid. He’d never do anything to your daughter, Tony.”

Tony sighed, “Cap, you don’t know that. He’s a teenage boy. You know how they can be.” He looked at Steve again, “Okay, well, maybe not you.”

“You are being dramatic, Stark.” Thor said, pointing Mjolnir at him, “Let the young ones have their fun.”

Bruce nudged the billionaire, “You always say you want her to be happy.”

“I thought you were on my side. Anyway, they did it all wrong. If a guy likes a girl, he has to ask the girl’s dad before asking her out. That’s like Dating Etiquette 101. Apparently, Parker didn’t take that class this semester.”

“That’s a little old-fashioned, don’tcha think, Stark?” Clint popped a chestnut into his mouth.

Tony scoffed, “No. It’s common courtesy. He should have asked me before asking her.”

“Would you have said yes?” Nat raised an eyebrow.

“Ye - no. Maybe. But, he didn’t ask so I couldn’t have said anything.”

Steve sighed, “Okay, we get it. You don’t like the idea of her going out. But, is that the only reason you called us here?”

Tony chuckled, “Oh, no. As (Y/N)’s father, I only care about what’s best for her. So, I need volunteers to help me spy on them.”

Bruce rolled his eyes, “I knew something like this was going to happen.”

Tony raised his hands, “Hands? Come on, I’m not playing spy by myself. Clint, Widow, you’re spies. Help a guy out here.”

Clint stood up, stretching, “This is gonna be hilarious. Sure, I’ll go.”

Natasha sighed, standing up as well, “I’ll go. To make sure that you don’t ruin their date.”

Tony rolled his eyes, “I’m not going to ruin their date. I’m going to make sure that he doesn’t ruin her.”

Steve crossed his arms, “Tony, don’t you think that’s an invasion of privacy?”

Tony clasped his hands together, “Well, we know who’s not coming. Anyone else?”

Sam chuckled, “Sorry, Stark. I’m not spying on your daughter.”

Thor held up Mjolnir, “I shall come.”

Tony squinted his eyes, “Yeah, no offense, Point Break. But, you’re not exactly subtle. I guess this will have to do. Nat, use your spy skills to find out when her date is.”

Natasha placed a hand on her hip, “Can’t you ask her yourself?”

“I already asked her where. Go on. She trusts you.”

Natasha let out a sigh, “Whatever.”

With that, she walked out of the meeting room.


You were in your room, typing away on your laptop when you heard a knock on the door. 

You closed your laptop, “Come in.”

The door opened, and Natasha came walking in, “Hey, (Y/N).”

You smiled, getting off your bed and meeting her halfway. You wrapped your arms around her waist, “Hey, Nat. It’s good to see you.”

She hugged you back, rubbing your back, “You, too. Anyway, I heard that you’re going on a date with Spider-Man.”

You chuckled, pulling away from her, “My dad is such a gossip.”

“Are you excited?”

You nodded, “Oh, definitely. I’ve had a crush on Peter for so long. I was thinking of asking him, but I didn’t want to risk being rejected. Plus, my dad would most likely have murdered him if I was rejected. But, he asked me out, so I was worrying for nothing.”

Nat patted you on the back, “I’m happy for you, (Y/N). When are you going?”

You hugged yourself, “Saturday night. He says that Central Park is more romantic at night.”

Natasha smirked, “So, he’s the romantic type?”

You giggled, “Apparently. I’m really looking forward to it. Oh! Do you think you can help me pick an outfit? I want to look nice but nothing too fancy.”

“I would love to.” She gave you another hug before walking out the door.


Saturday had come quicker than you expected. But, you weren’t complaining. Natasha helped you pick out a cute outfit, and you were eagerly awaiting the arrival of your date.

“I want you home no later than eleven, got it?”

You rolled your eyes, “Okay, Dad.”

“And if he does anything to you, let me know.”

You raised an eyebrow at your father, “Dad, this is Peter we’re talking about. Without the mask, he’s a stuttering sweetheart. He’s not going to do anything.”

Tony shrugged, “Hey, it’s been known to happen. And, if he starts to get boring, you can walk out.”

You shook your head, “Oh, brother.”

The ding of the elevator drew your attention away from your dad. The doors slid open, revealing none other than the Spiderling himself.

He smiled upon seeing you. He walked over to where you and your dad were standing.

“Hey, (Y/N). You look great.”

You smiled, “Right back at you, Peter.”

“Parker.”

Peter gulped, nervously looking at Tony, “Uh, h-hey, Mr. Stark. Good to, uh, see you, too?”

Tony glared at him, “Bring her home by eleven. And, don’t touch her. You ought to be lucky that I’m allowing this.”

Peter rubbed the back of his neck, “Y-yes, sir. Uh, come on, (Y/N).”

You nodded, quickly hugging your father, “Bye, Dad. See you later.”

Tony hugged you back, “Not too much later.”

Eventually, you and Peter made your way out of the Tower.

“All right. Commence Operation: Spy Date.”

“Spy Date? Is that the best you can do?” Clint walked into the room, twirling an arrow in his hand.

“Uh, what are you doing with those arrows?”

Clint raised an eyebrow, “Uh, what I always do with these arrows?”

Tony chuckled, “I’m sorry, maybe you didn’t hear me. I said spy. We are spying. Meaning we don’t want to draw attention to ourselves. Those, Legolas, will draw attention.”

“Don’t act like you know anything about being a spy, Tony. Because, you don’t.” Natasha walked into the room, wearing a black leather jacket over a grey tank top and jeans.

Tony held out a hand towards Nat, “See? Guess we know who the better spy is.”

Clint held his arrow above Tony’s head, “Don’t make me make a kabob out of you.”

“You know, Peter and (Y/N) are not going to be out all night. You want to spy on them, Tony? Then, I suggest we head out.” Natasha got in between the two men and pushed them away from each other.

“Widow’s right. Let’s go.”


The three Avengers got into one of Tony’s cars and drove to the Brooklyn Diner.

Clint and Nat got out of the car, but Tony did not.

“What are you waiting for, Stark? This is your daughter we’re spying on.” Clint placed his sunglasses over his eyes.

Tony nodded, “Exactly. She’ll most likely recognize me no matter how much I disguise myself. Now, go in there and do what spies do. Don’t pick a table too close. I don’t need them getting suspicious. Talk to me through your coms and let me know if he does anything.”

Natasha rolled her eyes, “You better hope she doesn’t recognize us either. Come on, Hawkeye. Let’s get this over with.”

“Can we order food? Cause I’m starving.”


Natasha and Clint got a table not too far from (Y/N) and Peter. They held their menus up to shield their faces.

Clint huffed, “Does he want us to listen in on their conversation? Because, we’re too far away.”

Natasha sighed, “Stark is making too big a deal out of this. He ought to let her enjoy her night.”

Uh, you know your coms are on right?” Natasha winced at the sudden intrusion of Tony’s voice in her ear.

She placed a finger on the com, “So what if they are? They’re not doing anything. From what I can tell, they seem to be having a nice conversation.”

Clint reclined in his chair, “Yeah, and besides, they’re sitting across from each other. The most they can do is hold hands.”

No holding hands on the first date.”

Nat shook her head, “Tony, you’re being too much of a dad.”

Uh, I’m sorry. Who has kids around here?”

“(Y/N) just laughed. He must be funny.”

“She laughs at everything. Seriously, if you just look at her, she’ll start laughing.”

“Well, they just got their food. Looks like Parker got a burger while (Y/N) got a cheesesteak.” Clint looked at his menu, “Are we supposed to watch them eat? Because I’m hungry enough as it is. If I knew we were coming to a diner and not going to order anything, I wouldn’t have come.”

(Y/N)’s a very fast eater. She’ll be done soon. And, if you’re hungry, there are plenty of hot dog carts around New York. Just hope there’s one near Central Park.”

“Fine. But, you’re paying.”

About ten minutes later, the two teenagers had finished their meals and were heading out the door.

Nat pushed the button on her com, “Tony, they’re heading out the door.”

I see them. They’re not holding hands, but they’re standing a little too close. Six inch rule, anyone?”

Clint chuckled, “Six inch rule? You are such a dad.”

They’re down the street. You can come out now. We’ll take the long way to Central Park.”

Nat sighed, “We’re on our way.”


Ten minutes later, the three Avengers arrived at Central Park.

“Sweet. Hot dog cart at six o’clock. Pay up, Stark. You owe me.” Clint stuck out his hand, waiting for some money to be placed into it.

Tony rolled his eyes, fishing out a twenty from his wallet. “Here. I expect change.”

Clint looked down at the bill, “A twenty? That’s it?”

Tony put his wallet back in his pocket, “You don’t need a hundred to buy some weiners. Now, go. Before I change my mind.”

“Fine. Nat, you want anything?”

She shrugged, “See if they have corn dogs. If not, just get a dog with mustard and ketchup.”

Clint gave a two-fingered salute before heading over to the hot dog stand.

Tony clasped his hands together. “All right. Let’s go find the kids.”


It didn’t take long for Tony and Natasha to find the two teenagers. (Y/N) and Peter were leisurely strolling along the sidewalk.

“I feel so sorry for her. This must be the most boring date in the history of boring dates.”

Nat rolled her eyes, “Tony, why do you have to be like this? Let (Y/N) enjoy her night. They seem to really like each other.”

Tony shook his head, keeping his eyes on the two teenagers from the bush they were hiding behind, “I don’t care. She’s not ready to start dating.”

“Or, maybe you’re not ready to let her start dating?”

Tony blinked, looking over at Natasha, “What?”

She smirked slightly, “You don’t want her growing up, do you?”

“No. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m back. Here, Nat. No corn dogs, sorry. You didn’t want any, right, Tony?” Clint handed Natasha her hot dog and crouched down beside them.

Tony didn’t answer.

Clint raised an eyebrow, “Cat got your tongue?”

Nat took a bite of her hot dog then wiped her mouth with her sleeve, “I think Tony doesn’t want (Y/N) to grow up.”

Clint smirked, “Ah, now it all makes sense.”

Tony sighed, “Okay, fine. Maybe you’re right.”

Nat put her hand on Tony’s shoulder, “She’ll always be your little girl, Tony.”

Tony chuckled, “Yeah, but she’s not so little anymore. It’s tough, sometimes. In two years, she’ll be old enough to live her life on her own. I don’t know if I’m prepared for that.”

Clint smirked, “If you can handle robot armies, you can handle your kid growing up.”

“Well, kids and robots are two very different things. But, I guess I have no choice.” Tony looked up to see the two teenagers with their hands intertwined.

He smiled, “We’re done here. Let’s go.”


About half an hour later, you came walking through the front doors of the Tower with a huge smile on your face.

You entered the elevator, “To my room, JARVIS.”

Right away, Miss Stark.”

After a few minutes, you had arrived on your floor. The elevator doors opened, and you were surprised to see your dad standing there.

“Hey, Dad.”

Tony pulled you into a hug, “Hey, hon. How was your date?”

You blushed, remembering the good night you had with Peter. “Well, this is definitely not going to be the last date.”

Tony smirked, “Ah, so are you two a thing now?”

You grinned, “I’d say so. But, don’t worry. He didn’t kiss me. Well, he kissed my hand, but that’s it.”

Tony smiled, placing his hand on your head, “Well, I’m glad you had a good night. Parker’s a good kid.”

You nodded, “Yeah, he is. I’m going to bed now.” You gave your dad another hug, “I love you, Dad.”

Tony hugged you back, kissing the top of your head, “I love you, too.”

You pulled away then smirked, “You left earlier than I thought.”

Your dad raised an eyebrow, “What are you talking about?”

You placed your hands on your hips, “You really thought I wouldn’t notice?”

Tony looked down at you, “You know?”

“Yup. I saw your car when we left the diner. Come on, Dad. Did you really think I wouldn’t recognize one of your cars?”

Tony sighed, “Why must you be so smart?”

“I’m your daughter. That’s why. Did you really have to spy on us?”

Tony placed his arm around you, “I’m sorry, (Y/N). I guess it’s just hard for me seeing my little girl grow up.”

You smiled, leaning into your father, “I know, Dad. But, it’s going to happen eventually. But, no matter how old I get, I’ll always be your daughter. Nothing will ever change that.”

“I know that now.”

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