duly noting

briaankinney  asked:

I just gotta let you know that I spent a really long time in your 'the sam shoe saga' tag, after reading a post about his new jacket, before I went to bed, for like some unknown reason idk. anyway it resulted in a dream about me defending his wardrobe to him, complimenting his jacket and almost dying at the end?? idk how i feel about this, but my subconscious feels really strongly about that jacket apparently.

Frustrations with me picking on Sam duly noted, yikes :P I feel like you have just earned some sort of obscure Sam fan medal of honour.

“Died to protect Sam’s self esteem about his fashion choices”

You will be remembered :’)

Decipiat

Bucky x reader 

Notes: swearing, fluff, angst, heartbreak, mentions of Steve x reader and Steve x Sharon Carter. 

Summary: When you find out Steve is cheating on you, Bucky is there to help you through it; along the way, his feelings for you grow, as do yours for him.  

One shot! I love Steve, I rly, rly do. But here we are. This is based on a request I got a while back from an anon. Duly note that I do NOT take requests anymore. I just needed to write something different than a series today. 

It’s exactly five months ago today, and it’s his birthday. No wonder you’re thinking about him so much when you promised yourself to never let another thought be wasted on a cheater. When Bucky walks in to the room, he instantly notices your struggle. With a small smile he takes a seat next to you on the couch, scooting closer carefully, until he knows you’re not gonna tell him to back off. He swings his arm around your shoulders and pulls you into his side, kissing the top of your head firmly.

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Imagine Valentine’s Day with Peter Quill

I wrote @rebelraptorcaptain a little Peter drabble for Vday and I needed more. 

“Holy shit, Peter,” your eyes widen at the handsome devil. “You cleaned the Milano!”

“I sure did, baby,” he beamed with pride and pulled you into his chest. “Happy Valentine’s Day, you little shit.”

Laughing, you pulled away from Peter and marveled at how clean the ship looked. “How long did this take you?”

Peter groaned out in a sigh, “Too long, I ain’t doing it again.”

“And Rocket’s bombs?”

“Yeah, don’t touch that blue box down there,” Peter pointed to a crate tucked under the table.

“Duly noted,” you smirked.

Peter walked up to you and reached down for your hand, “Go sit down.”

Your eyebrow raised in suspicion, but you took the seat anyway and watched Peter put on his favorite mix tape. Immediately Redbone’s ‘Come And Get Your Love’ came blasting through the sound system and you let out a loud laugh as Peter’s hips started to move to the song.

“No, Peter,” you choked out with a smile.

He grinned and pointed a finger at you, “Yes, Peter.”

Your cheeks flushed as he moved toward you, swinging his pelvic back and forth. His hands moved in the air and he sang along to the song. You snorted when he grabbed a wrench from the table and used it as a microphone, but then he moved directly in front of you and your throat dried.

Come and get your love!” Peter sang to you, a seductive smile on his face. He tossed the wrench back onto the table and straddled your lap, not bringing his weight down onto you. His groin hovered directly in front of your face and his fingers started to unbuckle his belt. “I said find it find it come and rub it if you like it yeah.

Damn the man knew how to make you blush like a fool, because he just laughed sweetly and removed his fingers from his belt. Instead he cupped your face with his hands and leaned down to kiss you softly on the lips. You moaned into his mouth and placed your hands on his waist, sliding your hand up his shirt.

He smirked against your lips and slowly broke the kiss, “Oh, man I’m getting lucky tonight.”

“Don’t be so sure, Quill,” you teased dragging your fingers down his firm abs.

“I’m pretty sure we’re going to bone,” he chuckled and moved from you, pulling you up with him. “I have a surprise for you.”

“Surprise?” 

You glowed with anticipation as he grabbed a hold of your hand.

“Come on,” he pulled you toward the cockpit and winked at you.

“No freaking way,” you screamed and jumped up against him. “Is this a joke!”

Peter threw his arm around your waist and pulled you into his side. His lips graced the edge of your ear and he whispered the most sexiest and seductive words you had ever heard in your entire existence. “Baby, you can fly the Milano.”

Oh yes, Peter Quill was definitely getting lucky this Valentine’s Day.

“Water? Seriously?”

“You do realize you’re mocking me by surrounding yourself with my own element, the one that trapped me, right?

“Sure, but I thought….”

“Being pushed too much… you know that’s how Malachite happened, right? Jasper pushed me to my limits and well… she didn’t quite like what happened after. Steven knows that I’m willing to sacrifice myself to lash out at the people who hurt me, and yet here he is forcing me to like you, after everything you’ve done to me. A situation like that… it could make someone like me… snap. In a wave of anger and self destruction.”

“And do trust me Peridot. A wave is all it would take to break you.”

“….”

“Duly noted.”

anonymous asked:

👑I feel like Cecily is trying to get rid of Phil because like the other person said she probably put the oil on the stairs to hurt Dan knowing the king would most likely blame Phil. BUT I also feel like she's sort of got a crush on Dan(or did at one point since she's been around him for awhile) and wants to get rid of Phil in a mild-yandere sort of way. Instead of killing him herself she'll manipulate events to have him killed by the king. OR she wants to get rid of the king because...(cont'd)

👑(crown anon continued) cecily wants Dan and Phil to be together and she knows that with the king alive it’ll never happen because the king doesn’t trust Phil and “being a gay king/prince” isn’t an option

duly noted!

anonymous asked:

prompts #42 & #83 please, thank you. :)

“Stop being so cute.” +“Enough with the sass!”

Clearly, they’re drunk. Or drugged.

Skinner watches his two most problematic (yet, somehow most successful) agents standing there in the corner. Standing might even be an exaggeration: Mulder is hunched over, one hand holding his stomach, the other one on Scully’s hip. Which, Skinner duly notes, is just as inappropriate as the rest of it.

They’re giggling.

As long as Skinner has known them (an exhausting seven years), he’s never seen them giggle; they have no reason to. Ever. Still, Mulder is cackling away, the sound so strange - downright spooky - and Scully… well, it suits her. Skinner feels lucky whenever Dana Scully throws a smile at him, even if it’s forced or untrue. This, however, is something different.

They’re still giggling. Like teenagers. Are they aware that they’re at work?

Rumors have persisted about them for years. Skinner can shoot them down, and he does from time to time, but in the end people will talk. Always. Scenes like this won’t help them. Although, if he’s honest, no one seems to care. Except, of course, Skinner himself. Part of him just wants to know what could be so funny. It’s a legitimate question, he figures. They seem completely immersed in themselves and each other. Skinner should say something - but what? Can he reprimand his agents for being actual happy human beings? He should at least send them to their office. Hot anger bubbles up inside of him; he is not their father, damn it!

All he wanted, still wants, is to get a coffee. Kimberly is out today with some family emergency and Skinner has to get his coffee himself. Maybe Mulder and Scully always run around here during working hours when they’re not chasing monsters. He wouldn’t. It would explain the rumors, he thinks. But no.

They stop - finally! - and Skinner is about to take a step further, towards his coffee. Which, right now, he really needs and deserves. Scully’s soft voice, almost a purr, stops him. Not that she’s talking to him, no, her words are clearly directed at Mulder.

“Stop being so cute.” Skinner decides he did not just hear this. Or better yet, she never even said it. They can do whatever they want in the privacy of their homes. Or even in their basement office. This here is his floor. So no, he did not hear this. Those words were never said.

And then it’s back: the giggling. Maybe he’s sleeping, having a nightmare, and he is going to wake up any second. He counts to five and realizes that he is, in fact, not asleep. Mulder and Scully are mushed together in a corner (they can’t believe no one sees them there; they’re not stupid), leaning into each other, making fun of something only they know about.

And Skinner needs his coffee. He needs it right now. Surely, he can ignore this. Like their sometimes ridiculous cases. Or their unexplained absences. Those unreasonable expanses! Snickering agents? A piece of cake.  

So he passes them. They either don’t see him, or they choose to ignore him. He shouldn’t care. He is not their father, but he is closer to salvation, to his coffee, and they’re still giggling. Finally, sometimes inside him explodes.

Skinner turns around, towering over them, and they both stop immediately. Scully’s face is red; a perfect match to her hair. Mulder looks like a puppy, except Skinner feels like kicking him. His lips quiver; Mulder is not one for relayed gratification. Scully, however, is her usual professional self; her lips now a tight line, her eyes finding Skinner’s.

“Sir.” Her voice is a bit hoarse, he thinks. Skinner stares at them both; Mulder’s hand is still on Scully’s hip and neither makes a move to take it away. They don’t care, Skinner realizes.

“Enough with the sass!” The words burst out of him before he can stop them. It’s not what he meant to say. Scully’s eyebrows shoot up, while Mulder is suddenly very interested in his shoes.

“Of course, Sir.” Scully nods at him, her lips set even tighter. Skinner narrows his eyes, just an extra warning for them, and then he just leaves them there. Two steps later and he hears it; they’re not giggling anymore, oh no. They’re laughing.

Skinner quickly turns, ready to really yell at them this time, but they’re gone. A nameless agent passes him by, greets him with a firm nod. Coffee, Skinner thinks, sighing to himself. Maybe he just needs coffee.

And Mulder and Scully will do desk work for the next week.

See if they still find reasons to laugh then.  

Prompt #69 - Cold Hug, with Nick Amaro

Fandom: Law and Order: SVU.
Warnings: None.

Image Credit: justrackoff.tumblr.com.

Prompt taken from this prompts list.

The precinct is cold as you walk into the squad room, though it’s nothing to the almost negative temperatures of the outside world. Nick is alone at his desk, tapping away on his laptop. You walk over quietly, dropping the take out bag onto his desk with a dramatic huff. “Your nightly sustenance, Your Highness.“ 

Nick grins and reaches for the bag. “I’d prefer the term ‘benevolent dictator’.” He kicks the leg of the chair beside his desk, sliding it out so you can sit. 

“Duly noted,” you laugh, sinking into the proffered seat. "Anything interesting happen today?" 

After unwrapping his dinner - some monstrosity of a sandwich you weren’t brave enough to determine the ingredients of - Nick launches into a story about he and Olivia chasing down a couple of suspects on foot through Central Park. You listen intently, loving his facial expressions and the animated way he’s speaking. 

Unfortunately, the cold temperature of outside has seemingly caught up with you, gentle tremors beginning to roll through your body as you realise how cold your hands are. You shove them between your knees, hoping to warm them up innocuously. The tremors quickly morph into shivers, making your shoulders shake. 

Nick pauses suddenly, during a rather impressive re-enactment of one of the suspects rolling down a hill, to regard you shrewdly. "Are you okay?" 

You nod. "Yeah, just cold. Did the fancy new renovations forget a heater?” you joke, legs beginning to bounce involuntarily. 

Nick chuckles sarcastically, throwing a napkin at you, but squints in concern. “Are you sure you’re alright? You don’t look too good.”

“I’ll be okay,” you assure him through now chattering teeth, running your hands over your arms for friction. “Just give me a minute. Don’t know why the stupid cold took ten minutes to kick in,” you mutter, irritated.

“Come here,” Nick says as he stands, opening his arms. “I would offer you my jacket but it’s covered in sweat.” He laughs when you look between his face and his chest suspiciously. “I’m not gonna bite you. I’ve been told I’m very warm." 

You snort. "Let me guess, Amanda told you that?” you grumble.

Nick smirks. “Maybe. Jealous?”

You scoff, rising to your feet. “Not on your life, Amaro,” you say, stepping into his arms. 

Nick says nothing (a wise choice, in your opinion) as you settle into his chest, hands coming up to fist in the fabric of his shirt, your head resting on the crook of his shoulder. His arms fold around you, one arm across your shoulder and the other winding around your waist. One hand rubs you back gently, soothing away the tremors. You can feel your body relaxing almost instantly at the emanating body heat - whoever said Nick was warm was right. 

You feel him shift before he kisses your crown. “Feeling better yet?” he asks, voice quiet as if he’s unwilling to break the silence that’s settled over the two of you. 

Tilting your head back to meet his gaze, you smile at the fondness in Nick’s expression. “No, not yet,” you say, letting your head resume its position, not ready to let go. “You’re comfortable.”

Nick’s chest vibrates under your cheek and his arms tighten around you obligingly.

3

Who’s Ogling Who?

REGINA:  Sheriff Swan. Again, I insist that you wear the required Sheriff’s uniform. That outfit is entirely… too sexy.  

EMMA:
 Right. Whatever, Mayor My-blouse-is-stretched-to-the-limit-and-the-button’s-about-to-pop-off Mills.

REGINA:  
Your observation is duly noted. Frankly, I’m surprised you’ve noticed such things, Miss Swan.

EMMA:
The whole TOWN has noticed your THINGS, Regina.

(text provided by: JuiceCupSwanQueen)

3

Ana: Thank you for coming at such short notice, Mrs. Masterson. I got called into work early today and my fiance won’t be home until late.

Mrs. Masterson: It’s no problem at all, hon! Don’t stress yourself, Cian and I will have a fantastic time.

Ana: Wonderful, well I’ll be heading out, then. He’s already had lunch and his afternoon nap, so he shouldn’t be too much to handle.

Mrs. Masterson: Duly noted!

3

requested by uniquesashamarie1991

“Hey, Stark!” Natasha yelled loudly as Tony worked around you, almost tripping you over in the process.

“Watch it!” Wanda hissed, curling her hands into fists.

“Guys, it’s okay.” You laughed, “I’m pregnant, I’m not-”

“Exactly, you’re pregnant.” Natasha nodded.

Wanda stepped closer to Tony, “-which means that if anyone hurts you or your baby, they’ll have us to deal with.”

Tony swallowed, “Duly noted.”

‘Apparently, the urn has been in the museum’s cellars for at least three hundred years, but for some reason it makes its presence felt now,’ said Ridcully.  'Of course, they have tons of stuff in there that’s never really been looked at properly and the city was going through a prudish period then and didn’t care to know about that sort of thing.’

'What, that men have tonkers?’ said Dr. Hix.  'That sort of news gets out sooner or later.’

He looked around at the disapproving faces and added, 'Skull ring, remember?  Under college statute the head of the Department of Post-Mortem Communications is entitled, nay, required to make tasteless, divisive and moderately evil remarks.  I’m sorry, but these are YOUR rules.’

'Thank you, Doctor Hix.  Your uncalled-for remarks are duly noted and appreciated.’
—  Terry Pratchett, “Unseen Academicals”
Unconventional

Kid Flash/Wally West x Reader #1 

Warnings: mentions of blood and a bad cut 

Word Count: 1093

Note: tbh this is the only way I can see Wally proposing, completely and utterly stupidly and rushed and in the moment. 

—————————————————

You leaned onto Roy, who had promised to stitch you up when you got back to Mount Justice. You were exhausted from the mission and it had left you with more than a few cuts. Wally was undoubtedly finishing up with the others and you were sure that you would get an earful when the rest got back. He had a knack at getting upset with you when you made more…..rushed decisions during missions.

“Damn Y/N be a little more careful next time will ya? And a ‘hey Roy I’m going in’ is always appreciated” Roy said as he examined the bleeding wound on your stomach.

“Duly noted,” you hissed as he pressed a cotton pad with anesthetic into the wound. You continued to wince and slightly squirm as he cleaned out the rest of the long slash.

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qwertyuiop678  asked:

aahhhh hi!! i kinda disappeared for a while--LYB+starting college ate my life a little, but i'm doing pretty okay and it seems like you are too! :D hopefully i'll have time to go read the codywan 'i love you' series properly soon enough, but in the meantime, obitine 39?

39. long distance relationship au

You look tired.

“I’m always tired, remember?” she said, mustering up a smile and pushing her reading glasses up onto her head so she could rub at her eyes and see him in some form less blurry. 

Which memo is that?

“Number - forty-nine? - of the day,” she yawned, leaning on her elbows and down to her computer screen. “Shut up, nanny.”

I didn’t say anything, but duly noted,” Obi-Wan said, his grey Skype image, lit by what Satine knew was the sun creeping into his apartment, crinkling up into a smile. “What shall I send you to wake up to?

“A triple espresso might do the trick. And a solution to world hunger, stat.”

Hm. I’ll do my best,” Obi-Wan said, nodding seriously, and then, like every morning - like every one of her late nights - he was going soft around the edges, waiting to see if she had anything else to say, looking like it was all he needed to get through the day to watch her.

“Go on,” she smiled, self-conscious and pleased beyond words. “You’ll be late.”

Yes. Shall I get dressed for the camera in a provocative manner?

“You wouldn’t even know how to,” she laughed, and still watched him out of the corner of her eye until he got to his front door anyway.