brazil-everywhere

#89 - For anonymous x2

Filling the prompts “you finding out you’re pregnant a few weeks before van goes on tour, so when he comes back a few months later you have a big bump. He’s seen pictures while he’s been away, but seeing it in person and feeling your belly blows his mind” and “Can you write about Van with his tiny new baby and he’s terrified to share his baby with the boys because he’s absolutely convinced that Larry will drop it”


The tour plans were already set in stone by the time you found out you were pregnant. You weren’t worried though. Van would be gone for almost three months but during the second trimester. He’d be back for when you actually needed him, and you got the news early enough that they could postpone more touring and the album release for a while after he got back. You didn’t like that he’d have to do any of that. Catfish were on a roll, and stopping that momentum made you guilty. Van assured you that you were always his first priority and that his future babies would be too. He wanted a family, and nothing was more important than that at the end of the day.

On the day he left for the U.S. (and Canada and Australia and Japan and Brazil and everywhere ever) your baby bump was hardly a bump at all. You were somewhere in your third month of pregnancy. You looked online at other people’s bodies. The really thin people had obvious bumps, but you didn’t. It was hidden somewhere under your pointy hip bones and pre-existing belly. Van kissed you hard and you could feel that he didn’t want to leave; his fingers were twisted through yours too tight, he wouldn’t lift his forehead from yours. When the final boarding call sounded, and Larry came to pull him away, Van dropped to his knees and started to talk to your womb.

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Let me remind you that it’s been thirteen years since Bruce Banner could last have sex (accident was in 2003).

Let me remind you that he’s been on the run for all that time, shying away from human contact for fear of hurting people. Let me also remind you that he was in love with Betty all that time. Even if he could be intimate with someone, he wouldn’t. But he can’t.

Just think about how starved for affection Bruce is. How starved for human touch. When was the last time you think he was hugged, let alone kissed or cuddled? How much do you think he wants it? Needs it? All the shit he endures, guy’s gonna need some comforting.

Let me remind you about Bruce’s panic attacks. The way he remembers bits and pieces of what the Other Guy goes through while he’s being shot at and attacked by military-grade weaponry, and how the Hulk makes it through it, but it haunts Bruce even when he’s not the Big Guy. He’s got no one to lean on even then. He’s been alone with himself all these years. Imagine having no emotional support through all the shit he goes through.

Now imagine when he joins the Avengers. Suddenly there’s people always around, and I imagine he would be flustered and overwhelmed at first. Because these aren’t just passing acquaintances or employers and this isn’t just a place to stay while on the run, these are friends and this is home. How long has it been since Bruce had that? (At that point it would have been nine-ish years)

But it must have felt like so, so much longer. He hasn’t been living, he’s been surviving. He’s been scraping by and continuing to move so they can’t find him.

Imagine the other things; imagine Bruce getting reacquainted with living again instead of just surviving. He’s been on the run, he hasn’t had time to check up on the news or technology or catch up with the times. When he comes back, when he steps into that lab for the first time, imagine how good it must feel to be back in a lab again, a nice one without second- or third-hand or thrown-together-with-materials-he-had-to-scrounge-up-and-piece-together equipment (like he had to in Brazil, and I imagine everywhere else too), but how out of place he must feel because what the hell, everything’s touchscreen and holographic and so goddamn shiny and how the hell is he supposed to use this shit?

Imagine Bruce getting up to date on scientific news and discoveries and advances since he’s been away. Imagine Bruce getting Facebook and maybe catching up with old friends a bit (though he’s still wary of too much attention). Imagine Bruce trying to figure out smartphones and discovering memes and catching up on movies and music and news that was big but not quite big enough to reach him wherever he was at the time.

And imagine when he finally finds someone. Whether you ship Bruce with Betty or Tony or Natasha or whomever, imagine how he will finally have someone. Imagine how he will be so afraid at first, how everything will be small and tentative and hesitant, and he’ll be afraid he’s going to fuck it up or hurt someone or have to leave again—

And imagine his partner, whomever you ship him with, comforting him. Imagine when he has a panic attack (and just their presence has been helping with those now), now someone is there for him, to hold him and hug him and make him feel safe and reassure him and calm him down. Imagine Bruce breaking down because it’s so much, it’s too much after all this time and he never thought he’d be able to have this again and he can barely believe it’s real and he’s afraid it’s all going to slip through his fingers.

Imagine soft kisses and exploring hands and lazing in bed together—intimacy, but not sex. Yeah, Bruce misses sex, but this, this, is what he’s been craving.

Imagine the way his eyes will close contentedly at the feel of a gentle hand carding through his hair. Or lips and warm breath against his skin. Holding someone, being held.

And I’m getting ahead of myself here but just. Bruce Banner deserves all the best things. He deserves all the cuddles and all the kisses and hugs and all the love. And friends and a home and goddammit just let my green son be happy T~T

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@svandoorne everywhere 🤗

Rules - Tag 20 followers you’d like to get to know

I was tagged by @crowtarot, my beautiful girlfriend!

Nicknames - CJ, Cookie, Carebear
Gender - demigirl
Star sign - Aries
Height - 5′3
Sexuality - Demisexual Homoromantic
Hogwarts house - Ravenclaw!
Favourite animal - oh god I don’t even know… monkeys, tigers, other cats, foxes, and beluga whales probably.
Average hours spent sleeping - 7-9, I’m doing pretty good
Dogs or cats - CATS but I can tolerate dogs
Number of blankets I sleep with - 1 if it’s my duvet bc she thicc, 2 if the blankets are thinner
Dream trip - my gf answered this saying she wanted to go to Greece with me, and like….same! I also really want to go to Jerusalem, Spain, Australia, and maybe Brazil? idk! Everywhere!
Dream job - successful archaeologist who travels all over the world, or a primatologist working in a zoo with some sweet primates
When I made this account - ummmm late summer/early fall of this year?
Why I made this account - I have a personal blog, but I decided to make this blog to have a space that was made completely of witchy posts, and a place that was easy to navigate through when rewriting useful things I find on Tumblr into my grimoire.
# of followers - 8, which is so sad to me, but I understand why, because I haven’t been on this blog a whole lot. I’ve had a crazy slow start, but I’m getting used to utilizing my queue and tagging the fuck out of everything! I promise I’m going to start posting more, though! It’s hard right now, because I’m living with my parents at the moment, so like, I don’t have a lot of privacy to do witchy things all the time. Also college work comes first until I get my feet back on the ground.

I tag @spellboundturquoise and @toxicgrimoire!

Wibbly Wobbly Timey Wimey (Part 2)

Originally posted by knightofthefandom

Pietro Maximoff x Reader

Wibbly Wobbly Timey Wimey (Part 2)

Part 1: http://imagine-marvel-12.tumblr.com/post/135754520300/wibbly-wobbly-timey-wimey

Warnings: None?

Prompt: idk if this is considered a request…But I guess it might be more of a question about a request. I was just wondering if you thought about making a sequel or part two to “Wibbly Wobbly Timey Wimey”? I thought it was a pretty cool idea and I was just suggesting. Thanks for taking the time to write! Your amazing for doing what you do. I don’t think I have enough discipline in my body to actually follow through with requests…Or time for that matter. Thanks for everything!!! :)

Note: Thanks for the request, Anon! I had a ton of fun with this prompt anyway and was already considering doing a part two. Thanks for the request and the sweet words!!

To Pietro Maximoff, you were a puzzle. You had simply appeared at the Facility and tied his brain in a knot. He knew the moment he laid eyes on you that he knew you from somewhere, he just couldn’t place a finger on it, but the moment it came out of your mouth, he knew. You had saved his life.

Pietro didn’t see you much, even now that you’d moved in right next door to him. Your bedrooms were side by side, and no matter how often he tried to see you or talk to you about the things you had said, what with you being his true love and all, you seemed to be busy, tinkering with your gadgets or out on a mission. It was impossible. But that certainly didn’t stop him from trying.

He took a breath and knocked on your door. You were rummaging through a pile of things on the other side of your very messy room, but held your hand back and used your telekinesis to open the door.

“Hello, Pietro,” You greeted without even turning around to see who it was.

He looked around your room, dumbfounded. He had never been in here before, but it was certainly something else. Vintage posters covered the walls, gadgets and gizmos of all shapes, sizes, and colors hung on the wall like trophies, and you had more medals than he could count. A few flags stood in a little cup on your work desk, that was covered in papers and maps and diagrams of some sort. The flags were from a few different countries, America, England, Canada, Russia, and…Sokovia?

“Don’t mind the room, it’s kind of a mess,” You told him, still digging through the pile in the corner of the room. Pietro zipped to you, watching over your shoulder. “There’s some chocolate in a bowl on the desk. I know you have a sweet tooth,”

“Are you looking for something? Can I help?” he asked quickly.

“There it is!” You shouted excitedly, pulling a gadget out of the pile. It was about the size of a pop can, metal, cylindrical, and it fit nicely in your hand. It had a few buttons on it, and Pietro had no idea what it did.

Shooom… It hummed as you pressed the button. The room was filled with glorious purple light as the lightsaber activated. You turned it off quickly.

“This is for Fury.” You said. “It was his a long time ago.” You stopped to look him over. He was breathing heavy, his eyes were fixed on you, and he looked like he had a lot on his mind. “What’s wrong?”

“I just…that thing…you said I was your…true love?”

“I did,” You nodded. You sat on the bed and motioned for him to join you. “I’m sorry I’ve been so busy. If you wanted to talk about this, you should have just said so.”

“I have been trying,” Pietro muttered, his eyes elsewhere. You grabbed his cheek and pointed his face towards you, stroking his jaw with your thumb gently. His eyes searched yours.

“I’ve seen a lot, Pietro. I guess I forgot you hadn’t quite gotten to know me yet,” You chuckled. You let go of his face and bent down, looking under your bed. You pulled out a big cardboard box and set it in Pietro’s lap. He rummaged through quickly, his fingers searching through the box quicker than you could imagine. They were pictures, pictures of you and him from the future.

There were pictures of the two of you in Paris and New York and London and China and Australia and Japan and Brazil and everywhere else he could imagine.

“I fell in love with you a long time ago, Pietro. We’ve been a lot of places and done a lot of things. I’m ready to do it all over again, but only if you are, Speedy.”

Pietro leaned forward faster than you could comprehend and captured your lips with his, kissing you desperately in every way he knew you loved. Your eyes were wide, as you certainly hadn’t expected that, but you kissed him back anyway.

You pulled apart, panting.

“What?” Pietro smirked. “You didn’t see that coming?”

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