fetch at the beach

anonymous asked:

Imagine Steve owning an ice cream shop and just meeting Bucky on a hot summer day

It’s a stunning day, the first really hot one they’ve had so far this year. Steve’d woken up early – well, been woken early by the sun heating up his bedroom – and, after a beach run and fetch with Honey, a shower, and a venti iced coffee (two sugars and a pump of vanilla, because Steve runs an ice cream shop and that means he is allowed to indulge), he sits in the front booth of his shop to chalk up the sandwich board for the day.

It’s only 10:30 when they roll up to the curb outside. Steve can see them through the big front windows, can hear them too: the bike’s motor cuts through the cheery playlist Steve’d queued up an hour ago. The girl – maybe 14? – slides off the back of the bike, her pink helmet decorated with a big Punisher skull sticker. She unzips the pink leather jacket then takes off her helmet, passing it to the driver, who pulls off his too and nests hers inside his.

Steve stares as the man gets off the bike too, one long muscular leg kicking up and over the seat. He locks the helmets into the back box and nudges the girl ahead of him into Steve’s ice cream parlor.

They’re very clearly siblings. They share the same big dark eyes and wavy dark hair, plus the girl makes a point of stepping on her brother’s foot as he holds the door for her. In retaliation he shoves her head sideways as they walk up to the counter.

Steve watches. The man would be the perfect model, his features symmetrical, his mouth expressive, his eyes nothing short of smoldering. He looks at Steve, and one corner of his mouth twitches as he looks at him.

Then his sister elbows him, and he turns to glare at her. “Quit it, or I won’t buy you anything,” he threatens. “Bec, I swear, I’ll walk out of here with a huge mint chip cone and I won’t let you have any.”

She sticks her tongue out at him. “I knew you’d say that. I brought my own money.” The man narrows his eyes at her, clearly stymied, and she turns to Steve. “Can I have a large cone with a scoop of chocolate and a scoop of black licorice, please?”

As Steve gets to scooping – he doesn’t scratch his shoulder, pulling up his sleeve a little by accident and showing off the curve of his bicep which Sharon says is his best feature, okay maybe he does a little – the man messes up his sister’s hair. “You’re gross,” he tells her.

“Right,” she replies, “because the guy who likes to add gummy bears and bobas  and chocolate sauce to his tangerine ice cream should be the judge of all things gross.”

Steve tries to hide his snort, because that is definitely more disgusting than any amount of chocolate and licorice, but the man catches him anyway.

“I’m being ganged up on,” he grumbles as his sister takes the cone from Steve, “I don’t even know you and you’re laughing at me!”

Steve bites his lip, trying not to laugh more, and the girl elbows her brother again. “Ask him out, Bucky,” she says, not even trying to be subtle about it.

Steve and the man – Bucky – both turn to look at her, mouths open, and she shrugs at them. “What? I’m just saying. You should.” She turns then to look at Steve. “Or you can ask him. He’ll say yes. I promise.”

“Becca!” The man grabs her, clapping a hand over her mouth and almost making her drop her ice cream. “Shut. Up.”

Snickering, she peels his hand off her face, pinkie first. “He saw you opening the other day and he’s been trying to get me to go for ice cream ever since,” she says, rushing so that she can get all the words out before he tries to muffle her again. “He’s been calling you ‘what dreams are made of’ because he can’t read your nametag which clearly says ‘Steve’.”

The man abandons his attempts to silence her, covering his red face with both hands. “Becca, you are without a doubt the worst person ever to exist,” he says.

She licks her ice cream. “Come on, the Red Skull’s got to beat me at that one.”

“Or the Mandarin,” Steve suggests.

“Arguably General Ross,” Becca continues.


At that, Bucky looks up. “Gods don’t count,” he says, and places his hand over Becca’s entire face. “You little meddler, I was going to get to it. What are you doing after this, Steve?”

TAZ Fic: Fission

Another TAZ fic, or maybe a piece that fits somewhere in the longer one I’m plugging away at. Maybe they will be a series? Anyway, here’s some Taako being confused on the beach, with Lup and some Ango to keep him grounded. Now on AO3 also!

Marine biologist side of tumblr, don’t @ me for taking liberties with the size and color of a hermaphroditic starfish. In our world they are an inch long, but in TAZ world they are hella bigger, because FANTASY.

EDIT: I should also note that the initial germ of this fic came from this extremely wonderful fanart by @papyarts!

They play a game on the bad days, called Where Were You. Taako likes to think of it as a game, anyway, because he might go nuclear if he takes it too seriously. His memory is fucked, so fucked still. Real layered on false layered on real, and there are days when he can’t believe any of them because he can’t tell the difference.

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Sea Glass

Originally posted by archieaddict

Summary: Bucky has never been to the beach and you are determined to get him there.

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Natasha Romanoff, Steve Rogers, mentions of Clint Barton

Warnings: None

A/N: This is literally just fluff, fluff, and more fluff. Hope you like it! // Sorry I haven’t been posting recently. School just started and I am really overwhelmed right now. Hopefully I can get something else out soon. Please send in requests!

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If you see this, post an excerpt of your WIP

This is from an exes to lovers fic that I’m uhhhh stuck on and have shelved for the time being. Completely unedited and unbetaed, so please excuse typos or random tense or pov changes :)

It was a dream, Louis could tell, he dreamed of Harry now and then and it was always something like this. He could almost smell the bacon and coffee. It was a good dream. Harry was cooking him breakfast and he was sitting at the counter watching him work. They were both in nothing but their underwear, still sleep rumpled from the night before. Louis hopped off of his stool and walked around into the kitchen until he was standing right behind Harry. He slid his hands around his waist and pressed his chest into Harry’s back, then slipped his fingers under the waistband of his underwear, rubbing the pads of his fingers over his hipbones.

He opened his eyes, rolled over, and looked at the clock. Six o’clock. He’d slept thirty minutes past his usually wake up time. The room was completely dark, thanks to the hurricane shutters, and Louis pulled the blankets up under his chin. It was freezing in the house. And he had extra urgent morning wood, thanks to his dream about Harry. Even the smell of bacon and coffee lingered. He threw back the covers, jumped out of bed, and raced out into the kitchen to find a fresh pot of coffee and a plate of cooked bacon sitting next to a carton of eggs. What the fuck.

His heart was beating wildly as he looked around. “Hello?” The living room and kitchen were empty, so he walked back down the hall to check the bathroom and other bedroom. He didn’t know what he was looking for, though he had his suspicions, but both rooms looked exactly the way they had the night before.

Back out in the living room, he noticed a blanket on the couch. He turned his head and by the door, hanging on the anchor key hook, was another set of keys with a familiar compass dangling from them. Louis took a deep breath and opened the door to walk out on the porch. Harry wasn’t there, but when he walked around the corner so that he could see the beach, there was a familiar figure standing down at the ocean’s edge.

Suddenly his racing heart wasn’t motivated by fear or the adrenaline response from finding out someone had been in his house or the confusion over the fact that they’d made breakfast. Now it was pure anger.

He stomped back to the guest room and dug around until he found a pair of cut off sweatpants. At least his panic and then anger had wilted his hard on. It had been years since he’d seen Harry and he didn’t want their first meeting to include him hiding an erection. He yanked a t-shirt over his head and tried to mentally prepare himself for the coming confrontation. There was really no use. He took a deep breath and pulled open the door.

Louis tromped down the stairs and paused at the old, beat up ford truck that was parked under the house. Harry had probably borrowed it from one of his employees because he didn’t want anything to happen to his Range Rover in the storm. Louis rolled his eyes and walked barefoot down the drive, then jogged across the road. When he got down through the dunes, he could see him easily, but instead of calling out he stood quiet and still. 

Harry’d brought Jack with him and it made Louis’ heart hurt. Harry had his old lacrosse stick with him and was flinging a tennis ball down the beach for Jack to fetch. Louis watched them for a few minutes, Jack speeding off down the beach before Harry had even thrown the ball, his excitement when Harry finally flung it as far as he could, the sand flying up behind his feet as he ran back with the ball held tightly in his mouth. 

Harry’s ridiculous laugh carried in the strengthening wind, across the beach, and up the sand dunes to Louis’ ears and he smiled before he could stop himself. He quickly corrected that when Harry turned to look up toward the dunes and caught sight of him standing there.

He pocketed Jack’s ball and started to walk toward Louis. He looked different, and it only seemed appropriate, it had been a few years, but short hair was the last thing Louis had expected. He’d thought it was up in the usual bun, but it wasn’t. Short on the sides and in the back, the longer pieces up top whipped around in the wind as he approached. When he was a few hundred feet away, Harry bent down and scratched Jack behind the ears, then pointed at Louis. The dog took off immediately, his floppy ears bouncing and almost streaming behind him as he aimed straight for Louis.

Louis went down to one knee and waited. He refused to get emotional in front of Harry, but shit, he’d missed Jack. There were a few gray hairs sprinkled in with the black on his chest and above his eyes. He let the dog lick him all over his face and scratched him until Harry caught up. Then he stood up, clenched his jaw and met Harry’s eyes. Without a word, Louis turned and headed back for the house, Jack right at his heels.

i wish i was one of those people that could do things without fucking them up like i dont need grand skills like i just want to be able to pour myself a cup of tea without needing to fetch a fucking beach towel because somehow there is tea all over the counter and floor

or like if i could wash the dishes without breaking one or take out the garbage without smearing rotten food on my new tights or remember to pay like a single bill on time or something yeah that would be cool

penegal5  asked:

Hello, Are you still doing the 3k fic/drabble prompt? If yes, is Sabriel ok? Ive always pictured Sam growing old and when he passes away he and Gabriel share a small part of heaven next to Dean/Castiel. It would be interesting to see a day in the afterlife. Is this possible? Thank you!

Sam’s heaven was warm.

A buttery sun always hung low in a summer blue sky, sending off waves of comfortable, enveloping heat. The breeze smelled like lilacs and there was an endless beachfront, just the right depth for wading up to your calfs and letting the tide bury your feet in the wet sand.

That was how Sam spent most of his days, when he was alone.

He couldn’t count the number of daysweeksyears that passed before he spoke to someone again. Sam was content to play fetch with Bones and let himself sink deeper and deeper into the beach with every drag of water across his feet.

And then, and suddenly, there was a shoulder digging into the small of his back and Sam fell to his knees, the soft sand giving way to his collapse. He spun around awkwardly, tangling in his own limbs, until he was sitting flat in the water.

“Did you really think I’d let you have all this to yourself, big guy?”

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Puppy on the Beach II Jeremy&Daisy


Jeremy smiled as he watched Copper chase his ball along the beach. He’d always wanted a dog and now actually having one was such a joy. The vampire chuckled when the aussie puppy came bounding back with the toy and proudly presented it at Jeremy’s feet waiting for him to toss it again. “You’ve got so much energy.” He grinned, tossing the ball once more and watching the pup dash off to fetch it.

Daisy was enjoying another free hour at the beach, deep in thought for once instead of her usual swimming or sunbathing. The games, plus her most recent text conversation with Emerson, was weighing heavily on her mind. All she wanted to do was make him happy, but no matter what he continued to keep her at arm’s length. Maybe he was right though, that was probably for the best. When her four years here were up, they would be separated once again. The sudden bark of a dog, followed by a male’s voice, brought her head around with a small smile. “He’s really adorable”


Be Mine

Jared PadaleckixReader

Word Count: 893

Warnings: None

Notes: Part 3

Part 1, Part 2

“Fetch, Nat!” Jared throws a tennis ball across the beach towards a group of rocks. Not long after you and Jared had gotten together, he moved out of his shared apartment with Jensen and the two of you moved to Texas, Jared’s home-state. Now, after season two, the two of you had been happily dating for over a year and life had never been so incredible. The love that you and Jared experienced together was indescribable, everything about him was magical.

“Good girl, Nat.” You bend down to pet her after she brings back the ball. Jared grabs your hand and the two of you make your way down the beach, Nat in tow, the water just licking at your feet.

“I still can’t believe this.” Jared mutters.

“Whats wrong, baby?” You squeeze his hand, hoping and praying that he wasn’t  going through another rough spot.

“Nothing’s wrong, I just can’t believe that after a year, I still love you so much I have butterflies in my stomach.” He smiles down at you, and you blush flicking your eyes away for just a moment to look at the sand, then moving back to make eye contact with him.

“I love you too Jared, I don’t think I’ve ever been happier.” You nuzzle your head into his bicep, making him sigh with approval. Letting go of your hand, he steps in front of you, making eye contact the whole time as he gets down on one knee.

“I’m really glad you say that, because I feel the exact same way.” Jared pulls out a small box from his back pocket and your breath catches in the back of your throat.

Swallowing, he looks up at you with kind, caring, hopeful eyes, “Y/N, I thought about this moment over and over for the past month and a half, but I couldn’t figure out any better way to say this. I love you, I love you more than you could possibly begin to understand. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, I want to wake up every morning next to you, my beautiful wife, and have our kids come running into our room, and just be happy, together.” Jared wipes a tear from his eye as you wipe several from yours, “Y/F/N, will you marry me?”

“Yes Jared, a hundred times yes.” You shout, wanting the whole world to know that you were finally going to marry the love of your life. Sticking out your left hand, Jared takes hold of it, and puts on the most beautiful wedding ring you have ever seen. When he finishes and stands up, you run into his arms, although he’s only a foot away. Feeling his strong, but gentle hands run up your back and through your hair, you wish for the moment to last for eternity.


“Back on set for season 3, you guys ready to do this?” Jensen meets up with you and Jared on set for Supernatural.

“Hell yeah!” You give him a quick hello hug.

“That’s ironic enough.” Jared says. You nudge him on the shoulder so he knows how cheesy his joke is.

“So, let me see it.” Jensen grins at you.

“See what?” You are a bit creeped out by his look.

“Duh, the engagement ring. I got your wedding invitation a week ago.” Jensen gives you a questioning look, and you stick out your left hand to show him the flower shaped ring Jared had gotten for you.

“Damn Padalecki, I didn’t know you were making that kind of money.” Jensen said to Jared.

“Sorry Jensen, can’t say that next year, I’ll be a Padalecki too.” You smile up at Jared and he wraps his arm around you. Jensen just scoffs and walks away to get the three of you coffee.

“Think now would be a good time to ask him to be a groomsman?” Jared jokes around.

“No, not exactly. We’ll have to take him out to that bar and get him drunk later.” You smirk.

Soon enough, everyone is coming up to you two, the producers, the actors, even the extras. It feels like another paparazzi attack. Jensen somehow makes his way to through the crowd and delivers the promised coffee.

Over the intercom you hear, “Congratulations Jared and Y/N on your engagement, now everyone get your asses back to work.” Everyone laughs and all of you walk off to your changing rooms. Upsettingly enough, you will have to take the ring off for shooting, but you don’t want to leave it in the dressing room; anyone could walk in. Knocking on Jared’s door, you see he is all dressed and ready to go.

“Hey Babe, mind putting this in your shirt pocket?” You ask, referring to the breast pocket on all of his flannel shirts.

“Sure.” He takes it from you. Leaning down he kisses you, softly and slowly.

“We got a few more minutes before curtain call. You get up on your tiptoes, grab Jared collar, and kiss him a couple more times.

“Padalecki, Ackles, Y/L/N, and Beaver on set 15.” The intercom booms. Letting go of Jared collar, you smooth out his shirt, and he wipes your foundation off his lips.

“Looks like we’ll have to save that for later.” He smirks and the two of you make your way over to the Impala.