he brings home the bacon


*Noise of FaceTime ringing*

You click accept and see Shawn standing in his kitchen. You place your phone against the toaster, standing in your kitchen too. Shawn was back home from tour and you had been at home for a month now. Whilst Shawn was away, you had sent him a photo of a meal you had made yourself. He made you promise to teach him how to make it once he was home. 
“You’re gonna need to turn that music down Shawn,” you shouted so he could hear you, as if he was in the room with you. His head snapped in the direction of his phone. He lowered the music and smiled, “Hey baby.” You had the usual ‘how are you’ exchanges before he clapped his hands and said, “Let’s do this!”

“You know this is really easy right, and I don’t need to be doing this with you?” you laughed as you stepped away from the phone and made sure you had every set on the counter. “I know, but I thought it would be a cute little thing to do” Shawn confessed. “And we could see who is the better chef” he added with a smirk. “I knew it,” you sighed shaking your head. 
“Do you have everything?” You asked, knowing exactly what Shawn was like when it came to remembering things. He nodded eagerly as he changed the song. “You got the chicken?” You asked, with which he replied with a nod and smile. “The bacon?” He nodded again, “Darling I bring home the bacon, remember?” You rolled your eyes, “It wasn’t funny the first time Shawn.” He shrugged his shoulders and backed away from the phone. 
“I set the oven to 350 F degrees right?” Shawn asked, as he stood over the oven. “Yep,” you replied as you did the same. “Is it cold over there?” You asked as you reached up for the cupboard above to grab some foil. “Yeah, it’s snowing outside” Shawn said. “Really?” You said excitedly, looking at the phone. Shawn wandered over to the phone and leaned over, “(Y/N) you shouldn’t be excited about the snow. You should be excited about how great I look” he said as he brushed his hand through his hair. “Just look at my hair,” he said sarcastically, knowing that he hated it when it was too long. “Wash your hands before you continue,” you said with a cheeky smile. 

You instructed Shawn throughout the cooking process, waiting for him when he panicked that he was behind yelling, “Wait wait.”
“Ok, is your bacon thick?” You asked, as you opened your packet of bacon. Shawn remained silent so you glanced over at the screen to see him close to the camera, with a smile on his face as he repeatedly raised his eyebrows. “Grow up,” you sighed, rolling your eyes. Shawn pushed himself off the counter, “Fine, it’s thin.” You let a little chuckle escape your mouth, “Sorry.”
You wrapped pieces of bacon round pieces of chicken, hearing Shawn panic over how the bacon would stay wrapped. “You don’t need toothpicks, it will stick. Trust me,” you said loudly. 
“Ok, then you grab the bowl of brown sugar and roll the wrapped chicken around until it’s evenly coated” you said, doing just that. 
“Now I’m gonna dress myself for two, once for me; and once for someone new” you heard Shawn sing at the top of his lungs. “Concentrate Shawn,” you snapped. Shawn stopped just as he was about to sing even louder, and wandered over closely to his phone. “I’m sorry, kiss?” he asked in a sweet voice. You frowned at the phone before giving in, and puffing your lips out like he was. 

Both of you placed your wrapped chicken on the baking tray and placed them inside the ovens, and waited for 45 minutes. “You bored of being back home yet?” you asked, as you both sat on your kitchen floors opposite the ovens. Shawn nodded, “I miss performing so much. I gathered some of Aaliyahs’ old toys and set them out and performed to them.” You gave Shawn a weird look, “Did you really?” Shawn burst out laughing, shaking his head. “Of course not, I used my own toys.” You shook your head, but smiled because you had missed laughing with Shawn. “But I miss you,” he said softly. You smiled, “I’ve missed you too.” Throughout the waiting time, you’d smile whenever you caught Shawn looking past the camera at the oven, keeping a close eye on the food. Shawn would sing snippets of his songs, asking you which way you preferred when he changed the notes of words slightly. 

Finally it was time to reveal the truth, and find out who was the best cook. “Mine look like little dog shits,” Shawn laughed, flipping the camera to reveal his burnt chicken bites. “Sprinkle the parsley,” you said as you admired your perfect cooking. “Now it looks like little dog shits covered in grass,” Shawn said. You glanced at the screen and did a double take, “I said sprinkle not pour!” “Oh well,” Shawn sighed, flipping the camera back on him. “Let’s see yours.” You showed him your perfectly cooked bites and heard him curse under his breath. “I guess that means you admit defeat,” you said smiling at him feeling smug. He frowned at the camera, “Never.” 

David Bowie, rated by the level of badassery and fun

Baby Bowie: he’s shy, he messes around with mime, he’s an ultra nerd. Still gets super many Valentine’s Day card and climbs out of windows after coitus. Pimply and already a music nerd. 2/10

Mod Bowie: still a music nerd, will never change, but now with a fashion sense. Sharp-ass hair line, smashes gravel on the floor of his vocal booth, makes gnome jokes with his only friend, Gus Dungeon. 3/10 but only for fashion sense.

Space Oddity Bowie: has a perm, which is always a mistake, pimply noodle, cries about his girlfriend and accidentally writes a hit in the process, is one hit wonder. Tries to make the stylophone popular but fails. Mmmhhhh 1/10

The Man Who Sold The World: Now he’s wearing dresses, gets a gun pulled on him. 7/10 THAT’S MY BOY

Hunky Dory Bowie: “I’m gay” but has wife + kid on the way A SOLID 10/10 MY FRIEND

Ziggy Stardust Bowie: oh boy where do I start all the glitter and that haircut and the sexy onepieces, and the everything, it’s all very uncool kid becomes hot over summer, he still falls off amplifiers and hurts himself accidentally, 9/10

Aladdin Sane Bowie: rad ass makeup, has lipstick on his face, will continue to inspire a ton of generations to put lipstick on their faces, too, and all while just existing on paper / sleeve. Schizophrenic baby and very unhappy. Not very cool bc I am sad for him. 2/10

Pin Ups Bowie: -1/10

Diamond Dogs: ahh yes we love censorship, also pissing off Mick Jagger, dog dick, 1984 fanfic, but in musical form and in a “jk jk stop screaming abt copyright” way. 10/10

Young Americans/ the Gouster: unhappy, but with a gf now, records an album that every executive hates. That’s always good. Also cuts off The DeepFreeze err I mean DeFries thanks to John Lennon his new homie. Bros for life. Also dares to be a bigger diva than Aretha Franklin by continuing to be pissed about not getting a kiss from her at the Grammys. Approves of NB people (“Ladies, Gentlemen, and others”). He’s petty and I love it. 7/10

Thin White Duke: he has a fashion sense but seems to be an asshole, I will fight him, he’s really uncool for almost dying, 2/10 and that is for STS

Berlin Bowie: chill, lowkey, has facial hair which makes for a good joke. Pisses off more executives who now want Young Americans II and want to give him a villa in Philly for it but nope. Pettyboi knows what he’s about. Loves Brian Eno. Art hoe. Iggy eats all his food. Still pretty lowkey. LOW haha! Mmh a solid but not good 4/10 there are barely any good fun stories?

Scary Monsters Bowie: didn’t want to make a hit album until 1983 to piss of Defries but accidentally made one “oops my hand slipped” Bowie, creates point of reference for his career, … apart from good music there’s the Elephant Man and Baal, which I am a slut for, but it’s just not? A very exciting time? Also he’s sad because John. Gets divorced and custody, both happy things. Still, afraid he gets 1/10 not very awesome

Let’s Dance Bowie: boy oh boy is a popstar never not funny esp when he never even wanted to be a singer? But for real he gets really hot and rolls around naked on a beach what more do I even want. Also a really good pop album. Rich as fuck, still very modest about how much he got for being EMIs newest bitch to bring home the bacon. Love it despite questionable fashion choices, 5/10

Tonight Bowie: Is very sad, mocks himself in the Blue Jean extended video. What kind of self-drag, that is so fucking next level, also Screaming Lord Byron is so out there I love it. Also Labyrinth and the Bulge falls into this era. Awakens whole generations of girls and boys. This is his informal legacy, his codpiece and goblins. Also “my cock is still raw”. REALLY FUN. 8/10

Never Let Me Down Bowie: lets everybody down. Is very sad, wants to quit music I will give him 6/10 though, for the entirety of Glass Spider, and his weird Pepsi-scientist

Tin Machine Bowie: fuck me left and right Tin Machine may be trash in other areas but in terms of stories it just seems so wild??? Popstar goes garage band. The interviews are super funny and Bowie essentially started it with Reeves to find himself again but I guess he found it really useful to piss people off too. Flirts with every journalist probably to make them blush and flustered, is really happy, has so much sex he gets F U CKIGN R R RRIPPED, hip moves, sax cunnilingus, err I lost track, 10/10

Black Tie White Noise Bowie: boring af in terms of stories sorry bby 1/10 the one point is for writing an album for your wife

Buddha of Suburbia Bowie: the guy who everybody forgets about but he makes good reasonable decisions like getting rid again of Rogers, getting Mike Garson back, loving music again. I will give it a 5/10 for the hilarious bush kicking and other fuckery in the Buddha of Suburbia video.

1. Outside Bowie: I will refrain from vomiting a bunch of words about sexiness here but like he is so witty? Art hoe? Loves Brian Eno and sex a lot? How can a sober person be so fucking fun?? Loves to piss off people, has a lot of OCs, but how many fun stories do I have for him? Well there’s the Minotaur jacking off thing, and the wallpaper designing, and the Andy Warhol imitations. Weird segues on the album, he gets points for that too, but overall he gets a measly for Outside 7/10, gotta stay objective here.

Earthling Bowie: HIS LOOKS ALONE ARE SO FUCKING FUNNY ASKHFJADJS, David Bonion/ the Bohawk ah god I love it, how he pissed off the one host by playing Scary Monsters despite being told not to and getting banned, is a even bigger dork, wears HORRIBLE suits, odd fashion choices, webchats like oh my god  9/10

‘hours…’ Bowie: he is this guy who wrote a snuggly album but also played Julian Priest, our MAILF, murderous artist I’d like to fuck, is a, I quote, “hot blooded male who is in love with Lara Croft”, … makes a video game and has self inserts of him AND THE WIFE!!!, fucking hilarious in interviews, really gives less shits than ever with every year that goes by… 6/10?

Heathen Bowie: he is very awesome with an ass that won’t quit and suits and god he just. Won’t. shut up about his daughter. Or wife. But have you heard about the human being him and his wife made. Kinkshames live on stage and tape, GET REKT, 10/10

Reality Bowie: my oh my fun stories? HOW ABOUT EVERYTHING THAT IS IN THE BEHIND THE SCENES MATERIAL??? He is just a fun kid, he releases albums like it’s nothing, boy is on fire, quick-witted… what are fun stories about Reality David Bowie idk he imitates a lot in interviews and is just overall a hoot 9/10

Gap Years Bowie: he gets 10/10 for the outfit with the big coat and turtleneck don’t judge also all the “questionable” (aka for the kiddo) movie choices, SPONGEBOB.

The Next Day Bowie: hi I am not retired you motherfuckers wake up wake up, is a really cute and genuine person, smells like perfection, but no fun stories. :( 3/10 for the super unexpected album drop like YOOOOOOO

Blackstar Bowie: THE CLOSET JOKE ASHFJDKAS also how he planned the musical before he got sick that’s a bloody good story, there’s just so much, like, how he made his death into art, into a project he always wanted to do, and managed to hide being sick for 1.5 years like???? How? Über-trickster, also how he died at 69, sung of his cock and made my day, … 11/10 despite the very un-fun death part

Farmer has a super weird farm! How does pierre, gus, pam, shane, and clint react?

Can we get scenarios where the townsfolk go to the farmer’s farm and it’s a really odd farm? Like it’s 100% orchard. Or just 12 huge coops of bunnies. Or completely automated. Or every sqare of space save a 1 tile path is crop? Just. Wtf farmer? Wtf

Pierre: “You… uh… really like corn, huh?” He asked, looking over the vast, seemingly endless fields of literally nothing but corn surrounding plots of sprinklers and scarecrows that dotted the plots.

He turned to the farmer and set his hand on their shoulder, looking them in the eyes seriously.

“I can’t tell you how to live your life, or how to run your farm, but if you ever need someone to talk to, him here. You’re also welcome to come pray at the shrine in my house too if you need to. I worry about you, okay?” He smiled at them nervously. “You can talk to my wife, too, if you would rather talk to her than me.” He opened his mouth to say something else when, out of the corner, he saw a single spot in a plot of corn that was occupied by a single melon.

“Do you take medication? Have you stopped taking them? Are you okay?” He became a bit more frantic and the farmer could barely hold in a fit of laughter.

Gus: Gus looked out among the cows freely roaming among the scattered, mismatched crops. Ther had to be at least twenty of them, if not more.

“I like your, um… are these potatoes? Uh, that wheat is coming in… nicely?” He looked over at them, smiling nervously.

“You don’t have to be polite,” they said, “You can just be honest. What do you think?”

Gus shook his head and sighed. “I think I need a drink.”

Pam: “Kid,” Pam said sternly after she picked her jaw off the floor, “You had a bit too much of the sauce before you made this, huh?” She chuckled and threw her arm around them.

“What? No-” the started, but Pam interrupted.

“Kid, you and me need to party some day! What’s your poison? Beer? First round is on me!” She laughed from the tip of her stomach and squeezed them hard. “You’re even more fun than I thought!”

Shane: “… What is this?” Shane finally asked. He had been staring at the farmer’s farm for at least five minutes, being perfectly silent as he took in the whole scene.

“My farm.” They replied, matter-of-factly.

“This isn’t a farm. This is a mess.” He crossed his arms. “I don’t even know where to begin. Four plants? Just four? This is a farm and you’re only growing four.”

They shrugged. “That’s what the bunnies are for. They’re what really bring in the money.”

“Farmer. You only have two bunnies. You’re telling me the bunnies are what bring in the money, not the chickens?” He did a grand, sweeping gesture to the farm. “There’s more chickens than I can even count!”

They shrugged again. “The bunnies are what bring home the bacon.”

Shane sighed exasperatedly as he turned to leave. “I should bill you for my time and my sanity.”

Clint: “I love you like the child I never had,” Clint sighed as he dragged his hand over his face, “And I’m very concerned for you but I need at least two beers before I can even begin to tell you what’s wrong with this picture.”

“You don’t like void chickens? Sure they look mad all the time and their eyes glow kinda eerily but they’re still pretty cool.” The farmer offered.

“They each have their own coop. There’s, like, twenty coops here. Can’t you just put them all in the same one?”

They shook their head adamantly. “They’re all special so they all deserve their own coop!”

Clint processed this for a moment. “Scratch needing two beers, I need at least four.” He turned and took the farmer by the shoulder, adding “And you’re paying,” as he walked them off the farm.

anonymous asked:

Headcanons for husband!Junkrat? Like, he married his s/o and thus he is a husband. I really need this.

Am I Junkrat fan bait? Wink wonk.

  • Takes his role as a husband very seriously, okay?
  • Is always worried he’ll lose his wedding band during a squabble so he keeps it stored in a secret compartment in his prosthetic arm during battles
  • Tries to avoid unnecessary risks less (barely, but he tries) because the phrase ‘till death do us part’ is a scary thing and he would hate to leave them alone
  • Struts around like the proudest (and craziest) of peacocks to show off his life partner to the world, because they’re amazing, they’re beautiful, and they’re all his
  • He found the precious metals and precious stones of his partner’s wedding band all on his own, because husbands are providers, and he’s good at that shit (scavenging especially)
  • Is totally down for renewing their vows at any given time (seriously, he cornered them in the shower once. they both cried afterwards)
  • Makes bombs named after them because reasons
  • One time he hears 76 describe a husbands job as bringing home the bacon. All the grocery stores in a five mile radius ban him after he literally buys all their bacon. All of it
  • Their wedding ceremony is the first and last time he ever lets the others clean him up and dress him nicely (he ended up getting his suit ruined halfway through the reception, luckily pictures had already been taken)
My OC's react to Overwatch's official character designs

no one asked for this but here you go. This took two hours and since I myself know nothing about the characters I had a load of fun!


Laura: “Oh, wow…she’s so…colorful! How does she get her hair to stay up like that?”

Samuel: “The lack of armor between her elbows and on her neck is troubling. I could slice her head clean off.”

Heather: “…My, but she is long-legged. Should I be concerned about the lack of weight distribution betwixt her calves and ankles? I believe that requires healing.”

Isabelle: “I like her style.”

Felix: “…Damn. Does she have to wear straps down there? Not that I’m complaining.”

Trent: “Is this woman wearing a cannon on her chest. And why do her trousers bear her name? …I am concerned on a number of levels.”


Laura: “Those big guns…um…are the claws and spikes on his wrists really necessary…?”

Samuel: “Ah…p-pardon me…I just…” *snorts* “The cape…”

Heather: “Oh goodness. It appears Death is awake and didn’t get his morning kiss.”

Isabelle: “Wow. His face must be angular as all get out. I bet he’s poked an eye out with his chin.”

Felix: “Heh…nice weapons. You compensatin’ for somethin’ under those ammo holsters?”

Trent: “…Oh, mercy. This poor gentleman. Getting up after falling must be quite the ordeal.”


Laura: “…Gracious…w-why are her arms and legs protected, but not the entirety of her waist? …Such a long waist, too…”

Samuel: “Again with the awkward armor distribution…one slice down her chest and she’s as good as dead. Though I have to wonder why her skin is tinted blue.”

Heather: “…My. You may want to protect that chest of yours, dear. Using your weapon for such means is a poor idea, because a gun can only point one way.”

Isabelle: “Hon, if you want people to stop staring, maybe put on a coat? Or maybe she just likes looking bitchy.”

Felix: “…She can make herself into my widow anytime.”

Trent: “I-I’m not looking!”


Laura: “…Oh, gracious me. Is that an ape? It’s an ape! Named Winston! WINSTON!”

Samuel: “…They claim that the intelligence of the ape family is vast. It is now so vast that I am concerned for humanity.”

Heather: “That poor thing looks so…mad. Of course, I would be as well if I had what looks to be ten pounds of armor burdened upon my whole body.”

Isabelle: “…It’s wearing glasses. And it’s name is Winston. Someone get this poor thing a glass of wine.”

Felix: “Fuck. I’d be mad too if my name was Winston. Holy shit.”

Trent: “Someone save him.”


Laura: “…What lovely lips she has. Er, how does she see?”

Samuel: “Now THAT. That is armor. Bless this woman. Also…I’m frightened.”

Heather: “Oh.”

Isabelle: “That’s a…missile launcher? I’m sorry. I have to go. Right no-”

Felix: “Under that…baffling armor. Wow. I bet she couldn’t dodge my missile…”

Trent: “…I like this woman. She has a working mind.”


Laura: “…Really, I don’t have much to say…um…he must be…big?”

Samuel: “…I feel that if this man got so much as a paper cut that he would be calling on God.”

Heather: “For some reason, I fear for this man’s self-esteem.”

Isabelle: “…Wow. He must have trouble entering buildings…”

Felix: “…Shit. Is this guy and Pharah related?”

Trent: “…God is a creator, not a copier.”


Laura: “She’s beautiful! But why are all of these guns so odd…?”

Samuel: “Step one: chop off the right leg. Step two: the left. Three: stab the throat. Victory.”

Heather: “…Curious. Can she bend matter? Is she perhaps casting a bodily illusion as well?”

Isabelle: “I like her style. You got it, you flaunt it.”

Felix: “…Shit. None of these women have armor. Which concerns me. But also, as a man, I-”

Trent: “If this woman does not kick in fights, then I am sorely disappointed by the waste of resources.”


Laura: “Oh! He has a claw…how nice. It must be easy to grab things! Does he braid his own beard or does someone else do it…? Like Pharah!”

Samuel: “He must have stories to tell. But again, I ask: WHY ARE VITAL LIMBS UNPROTECTED?!”

Heather: “I’d quite like to hug this man.”

Isabelle: “Aww! He looks so mad. Do you think his girlfriend left him?”

Felix: “…Hello, height complex.”

Trent: “…Mm. I think a smile would suit him best. It must be a rare sight.”


Laura: “Ah! How sweet! B-But why is someone so kind fighting? …It’s a robot? …Oh…”

Samuel: “Machine or no, fighting ones are only as good as their makers.”

Heather: “I was wondering when an actual machine would appear. I am…oddly…not impressed.”

Isabelle: “It’s a robot. Well, okay.”

Felix: *snorts*

Trent: “…Isn’t sending a machine into battle at bit…cowardly?”


Laura: “Ah…how handsome. Though perhaps he should do something about that stray hair.”

Samuel: “I…his che- …I…excuse me, I must go. Preferably to stab something.”

Heather: “A bowman? Hm. With a hair tie that long, he is asking to be shot should there be wind.”

Isabelle: “Ooh. Rock that ink, pal. Though red may color it if you don’t cover it.”

Felix: “…Let me guess. His brother died.”

Trent: “He must be fun at parties. Quite fun.”


Laura: “Ah! What beautiful wings! But she…reminds me of…”

Samuel: “At last, a medic! A flying medic! I was worried for this team.”

Heather: “…My, but we appear similar. At least I know now that I can look fine in orange…”

Isabelle: “I feel like she never hears a thank you. You keep goin’, girl.”

Felix: “Mercy. Indeed.”

Trent: “…I pray this woman stays safe.”


Laura: “…Ah. How creative! …But…how did they program beliefs?”

Samuel: “…May I pass on this?”

Heather: “Mm. Curious. How does this…robot…fight?”

Isabelle: “Aww. It looks so cute! Is he that one guy that gives all the pep talks?”

Felix: “…Okay.”

Trent: “A warrior monk. Well, there is also an armored ape. I wonder what else exists.”


Laura: “…Doesn’t this seem redundant? A robot…ninja?”

Samuel: “No one speak to me. I am enraged.”

Heather: “Hee. They gave him cloth for hair. How charming…”

Isabelle: “This is the most badass thing I’ve ever seen.”

Felix: “My sword matches my body in color. Fuck all of you.”

Trent: “I…my last statement. I must add ‘robotic swordsman’ to it.”


Laura: “G-Gracious…that looks like fun to pilot…”

Samuel: “The bigger they are, the harder they fall.”

Heather: “…For something she must have spent a lifetime working on…it looks simple to destroy.”

Isabelle: “…Shoot. Even I could easily get rid of her.”

Felix: “Pink, eh? Heh. She must know how to have fun…go big or go home.”

Trent: “Hm. No offense to this woman, but…if she runs out of fuel, God save her.”


Laura: “…His hair is on fire! H-He looks…oh, my.”

Samuel: “Hm. He must have a death wish.”

Heather: “…Gracious. The day this man settles down is a day the earth will sit still.”

Isabelle: “Sorry.” *snorts* “I-I…he’s having fun…”

Felix: “Shit, I could use his leg as a chopstick. Jesus man, drink your milk…”

Trent: *smirking* “Excuse me…I…” *starts laughing* “I’m amazed he hasn’t died.”


Laura: “What a nice smile! I want to make him smile more!”

Samuel: “…The lack of proper armor is going to make me stab myself. Careful, don’t hold that hand out long- it will be chopped off.”

Heather: “…How charming. Do you suppose he does everything with a smile?”

Isabelle: “Darn. I like this guy. Let’s hope he can last…”

Felix: “…What’s with the excessive leg armor? Is he terrified of losing them and not his arms? His arms can just go fuck off? If he lost both legs he might lose his will to live.”

Trent: “…Those are the oddest hair decorations I have ever seen. How does he put them on? Remove them? They look like rubber bottle caps…”


Laura: “…Why does his belt say BAMF? What does that mean? Be Afraid of My…Firepower? Fist? Fedora? Friends? Fa-”

Samuel: “…I am done with this. This man’s arm should be a stump. This is not possible. I am so angry. I want to kill someone. I want to fight this man and kill him. Right no-”

Heather: “…Is his torso robotic? Then…is his…oh, my.”

Isabelle: “Lotsa robot limbs in this group. …Is his horse robotic? Because a robot horse would be badass.”

Felix: “…Is his gun compensating for something?”

Trent: “…If your society has such advancements as robotic limbs…guns are obsolete, friend.”


Laura: “…Ah, how adorable! I don’t even mind her shooting me!”

Samuel: “…Beware the nice ones.”

Heather: “She even has snowshoes. Though I cannot speak for their effectiveness in battle.”

Isabelle: “…Aww. Go kick ass, honey. Have fun!”

Felix: “…Heh. What a cutie. I wouldn’t mind making her feel warm…”

Trent: “For her sake, I hope she does not suffer from heat stroke.”


Laura: “O-Oh my goodness…a hug from him must be quite something.”

Samuel: “…I will say nothing at all. Please, go on.”

Heather: “…Roads are most likely not the only things he hogs.”

Isabelle: “Step one: bring home the bacon. Step two…share it.”

Felix: “I bet this guy has the most innocent fucking face under that mask.”

Trent: “…Good grief. I certainly don’t want to be on the receiving end of whatever punishment he gives.”

Soldier 76-

Laura: “How…normal looking. Do you suppose he enjoys a good chat?”

Samuel: “He looks pleasant, oddly. And…is his hair white? Ah, an older fellow! …He must be sturdy.”

Heather: “No comment.”

Isabelle: “Did he choose the name Soldier 76 to add intrigue? He kinda needs some.”

Felix: “He reminds me of my father…”

Trent: “A veteran…what a brave soul.”


Laura: “Oh, she’s so pretty! And strong! Look at her! How pretty!”

Samuel: “…Can I get drinks with this woman?”

Heather: “Oh my. I feel we may be fast friends.”

Isabelle: “Woo! Look at this girl. Hell yeah. I feel great just looking at her.”

Felix: “Oh, fuck yeah.”

Trent: “Well. I think this lady can handle herself.”

[fic] No, Mr Stark, I Expect You To Die

Pairing: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Rating: Mature
Word count: 3000
On AO3: Link
Notes: For @ironstarkasm, who requested: I’m an agent and you’re an evil mastermind and I was assigned to kill you but now you have me hostage and oh god you’re hot. But get this: Tony’s the secret agent and Steve’s the evil mastermind.
Themes: AU, spies, humor, frottage, villain Steve, Tony Stark is a bamf

Coming to with his jaw aching and his head fuzzy, finding himself braced against a wall in an unfamiliar room with his hands tied tight above his head, Tony sighed to himself. It was going to be that kind of day.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Youve had a few shower prompts but could you do something post shower where Daryls gross has trashed the bathroom and Carol is cleaning up but Daryl was coming back to do it and they have a You're not my wife/mother/I can clear up my own mess spat.

Holy mother of God.

Carol’s eyes moved slowly around the bathroom. Hurricane Daryl had hit, and he had left a debris field all over the place. He’d come out of the bathroom like he’d been baptized; skin all pink from scrubbing, hair plastered to his head from the water, smelling like soap and steam, and generally looking delicious.

So she had been properly distracted as he shuffled past her to get at the clean clothes on the bed, wearing only a towel around his waist…tempting her like the devil that he was for her to ‘accidentally’ knock that towel loose. She shook herself out of it, hearing him rummaging through clothes and getting dressed, as she faced the carnage in front of her.

His old clothes were a congealed pile of fabric and filth on the floor in the corner, and the floor of the bathtub was struggling to send the rinsed off dirt into the drain at the end. The steam on the mirror was thick, and there was a ruined towel lying beside his clothes: a casualty of the first of two showers that it had taken for him to get clean.

With a resigned sigh, she walked over and started to run the shower head again, just to help the residual water get rinsed off the tub bottom. She was contemplating getting a stick to pick his clothes up with, rather than using her bare hands, when she felt Daryl walk up behind her.

“What’re you doin’?” he asked.

Carol turned, noting that pants were on now, but a shirt was not. She took a moment to let that sink in, then lifted her eyes to his face.

“Just…cleaning up.”

“I was comin’ back to it. Ain’t a savage,” he remarked, looking slightly offended.

“Oh, don’t get grumpy,” she snorted. “You cleaned yourself up good.”

He didn’t return her playfulness. “I can clear up my own mess.”

Carol sighed, lifting her hands and stepping aside. “Okay, okay, sorry. Just trying to help.”

“Well, don’t,” he mumbled, but there wasn’t so much anger as there was self-consciousness in his tone. “Ain’t your responsibility. Y’ain’t…”

“What?” she challenged. “I’m not what?”

His jaw flexed, and his eyes focused on the edge of the sink as he grabbed up his dirty clothes.

“Nobody’s around. Ain’t nobody watchin’ you. Don’t gotta do the housewife thing,” he mumbled as he shuffled past her.

Carol burst out laughing, covering her mouth with one hand. “Okay…Okay…First.” She held up a finger. “Taking care of someone doesn’t automatically make it a ‘housewife thing.’ Two.” She held up a second finger. “If I’m the housewife, then that makes you—“

“I know what I said,” Daryl interrupted with an exasperated chuckle. “You know what I meant.”

“Hm…clarify?” She raised an eyebrow teasingly.

He tossed his clothes in the wicker basket by the chest of drawers, grabbing up the grey shirt on the bed and yanking it over his head. “M’late for the patrol.”

“Uh huh,” she snickered, triumphantly watching him leave. “Go get ‘em, hubby!”

“Don’t call me that!” he yelled as he headed downstairs.

“Yeah, bring home that bacon!” she jeered.


“I expect to be thoroughly ravished by you tonight, Mr. Husband!”

She heard Daryl trip the last two steps down the stairs.

So Neighborly (short fic)

Originally posted by telefilmaddictedforever

Recent talk of Oliver Queen staying at home while Felicity went to work got my imagination going. This is a fluffy little piece. Hope you like it. Please share and look into my other fics if you like. 

This is also available at Ao3. 

They moved into the Tudor-style house on a weekend. The whole event was a blissful blur. Oliver never said the words aloud, but he loved that the house reminded him a little bit of the Queen Mansion with its stucco and beams. The events of recent years didn’t taint his childhood memories and being happy now reminded him that he had been happy then, blissfully unaware of the ills of the world. Still, this was a modest house with three bedrooms, not eight and it sat on .56 acres rather than an expanse worthy of a park.

Felicity had different reasons for loving the house. It was theirs. Not a rental, like all of the other places she had lived. An actual home with a foundation and a yard and a fireplace. And it was only 10 miles from Queen, Inc.’s headquarters in Starling City, which meant that she could take off her CEO hat at the end of the day and be wrapped in Oliver’s arms in less than thirty minutes in good traffic. An executive of her stature typically lived in an aspirational house, something large and impressive. But for Oliver Queen and Felicity Smoak this house was aspirational, reflecting the warmth and coziness they aspired to in their life together.

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Okay, I said I’d tell some stories for International Men’s Day, and boy, have I got one here. It’s a doozy, but worth the read…it’s my story about my family, of course I think it’s worth the read. Oh well. But hey, maybe it is an objectively good story, we’ll see.

Some background: This takes place in 1999. I was three years old, my sister only one. My mom was a stay-at-home mom, so my dad was the only one bringing home the bacon. At the time he worked in the Air Force. I’m not sure exactly what it was that he did, though. Something in engineering I’m pretty sure. It hasn’t come up much since he left the Air Force. I know he achieved the rank of lieutenant colonel, and at the time this story takes place he was on active duty. He didn’t have to leave the country too often, but he did have to go on frequent business trip to other states. We also had to move around quite a bit. I was born in Ohio, and two years later my sister was born in California.

In 1999, we were still in California. A lot of things began to come up at the same time that made my dad think about resigning from active duty. His oldest kid (me) would be in school before long, and he and my mother knew the moving around we had to do would be tough on me. It was also tough on my mom already, with him being away so often. The pay wouldn’t be as good if he left active duty, but they weren’t exactly poor. They had enough saved that provided for them and my sister and I. Added to this, there was about to be a promotion at my dad’s work. Not a ton of people were eligible, but my dad was. He knew that if he wanted to resign from active duty, he’d have to do it now. It wouldn’t be fair to his coworkers if he got the promotion only to resign soon after.

So my dad decided to do just that, and my mom agreed with his choice. He left for work one morning to put in his resignation. Meanwhile at home, my mom made a surprising discovery, one that threw a complete wrench into Dad’s plan:

She was pregnant.

That wouldn’t have been so bad, since my parents knew they wanted a third kid. But not for another year or two. This new baby coming too early threw everything off. Now that there was a third kid to consider, Dad had to stay on active duty. The lesser pay would’ve worked with two kids, but not three. So my mom called him at work before he resigned and told him she was pregnant. So he stayed on active duty for a good few years afterwards.

Even on reserves, he still wasn’t around all the time. I have memories of him being gone for up to a week at a time, and coming home to us in his army fatigues. Memories of him going to Georgia (the country, not the state) and returning with little presents for each of us kids. I still have most of those presents (I’d have them all if the dog hadn’t chewed one up). Nowadays he doesn’t work in the Air Force at all anymore, but I still think it was so great of him to stay there for so long in order to make sure the rest of us were provided for.

So Happy International Men’s Day, Dad! You deserve it. (@boy-positive)