help my finger

As requested by @thalia-freaking-grace: Lance as Josh Dun from Tøp


Is This My Shirt?

Peter Parker (Marvel):

Summary: Tony Stark’s daughter Y/N and Peter became good friends after Peter got recruited by Tony and Y/N always clean Peter’s wounds after a rough fight.

A/N: This was neither requested nor planned but I wrote this a few days ago because I just love the combination of Peter Parker and Tony Stark. Maybe I’ll write a second part… so tell me if you like it.

Feel free to send in requests! :)


I woke up to a knock and snuggled my face into the pillow, groaning. I heard the knock again, quicker and louder this time.
I groaned again, stretching my limps before looking to the glass door to the balcony.

I saw Spiderman leaning against it, waving slightly and taking off his mask to reveal his beautiful face. Standing up, I realised that I was only wearing my father’s shirt that covered most of me.

I hesitated but went over to the door, shoving it to the side to open it and Peter fell into my arms, groaning loadly before I could greet him.
“Peter!”, I gasped quietly as I tried to hold his body with my small arms.

“I’m awfully sorry, Y/N. It’s just…”, he began rather loudly, as he pulled himself back, “I, uh, was… there was this guy again…”
“Shhh. My parents are asleep.”, I explained quietly and while he rambled on, my eyes found his black eye and the cuts in his face which I hadn’t noticed before. My hand reached up to his face, my fingertips carefully drawing over the cuts. He shut up the second my fingers touched his skin.

“Oh, God, Peter… are you hurt somewhere else?”, I asked him and he nodded, his hand tracing over his chest down to his stomach.

Without hesitation I pressed the metal spider on his chest making the fabric go loose and sliding down his shoulders. “What the hell? How do you…?”, he exclaimed quietly, grabbing the suit and holding it, not wanting to stand in front of me with only his boxers on. My eyes instantly shot a brief glance on his abs before I looked him in the eyes.

“Come on, Peter, I helped dad while he worked on the suit. I know more about it than you do.”, I laughed softly, but got quiet when I took a closer look to his chest. There was a huge cut over his whole chest and several smaller ones over his stomach.

“Shit.”, I mumbled, pulling him towards my bed and pressing him down, “Let’s take this off and then I’m going to-” “No, wait.”, his hands firmly grabbing mine which were about to take off his suit completely.

“What are doing?”, Peter wanted to know,his voice shaking slightly. “Don’t be so shy, I’ve seen you shirtless before. And honestly, Peter, I’m not wearing a lot more clothes than you.”, I grinned at him but he only looked more shocked.

“That’s not helping…”, he muttered and sighed, “I… I can take it off myself.”

I only nodded, leaving him in my room and quietly wandering through the hallway to get to the bathroom and take a wet cloth.

Getting back to my room, Peter still sitting on my bed, I closed the door. His head turned to look at me, giving me a cute, little smile as I approached him.

Neither of us said a word as I pushed him down on my bed, laying on his back. Neither of us said a word as I cleaned his wounds.
I was hovering above him, being really near his face while I examined his black eye.

He shut his eyes while I traced over the cuts on his face and he flinched everytime, suppressing a groan and probably thinking about how he got all the cuts.

I couldn’t help but let my fingers roam through his brown curls, feeling him tense up. “It’s fine, Peter. You’re safe here.”, I whispered before pressing a long kiss on his cheek. His brown eyes widened instantly, staring into mine but his expression softened as I smiled at him before taking care of the cuts on his chest.

The only sounds that filled my room were his soft groans while I cleaned the huge, deep cut on his chest. It took me a while to finish my work and Peter’s chest had lifted and sank about a thousand times due to his heavy breathing.

But when I finished cleaning his wounds I wasn’t able to look away from his muscular body. I felt the unbearable urge to touch him and my hands reached out before my fingertips danced over his stomach and traced over his abs.

He was so beautiful, I was wondering if this was the body of a god. But one thing I knew for sure: this body took my breath away.

“What are you doing?”, I suddenly heard Peter’s deep voice and I jumped, pulling back my hand. I looked at him, feeling the heat in my face and opened my mouth to say something but no word left my lips.
I just hoped that he wasn’t able to see me blushing due to the dimmed light.

I cleared my throat when he sat up, looking at me with a flirty smile.
“Is there something else I can help with?”, I wanted to know, my voice even higher than usual.

He wanted to shake his head but then stopped, looking into my eyes all the time.
“Actually…”, he began, “I, uh, was- you know, wondering if I could… maybe stay here? I-I need… uh, I need cuddles. No, I’d like to… cuddle with you… if it’s fine.”

“Yeah, it’s fine. But you have to leave in the morning as soon as possible.” , I responded calmy, though I was a excited mess on the inside. I gave him a slight smile before standing up. “You want a shirt?”, I continued, making my way over to the wardrobe and turning on the light.

“Yeah, that would be nice.”, he said and came over to me into the wardrobe, where I had taken off my father’s shirt, not expecting him to follow me and now standing in front of him with only my underwear.

“Jesus Christ! I’m so sorry!”, he exclaimed, stumbling back against the wall. I randomly picked a shirt before pulling it over my head and took a comfy pair of shorts, putting it on as well.

Peter was still shocked but his gaze was glued to the ground, his face as red as his suit. “Here, put this on.”, I mumbled, ignoring the embarrassing scene and pressing my father’s shirt that I had worn before to his chest.

I turned off the light of the wardrobe, laying down in my bed and waiting for Peter to join me. I watched him, putting on the shirt which was a bit too big for him, as well. “This is weird. I’m wearing Mr. Stark’s shirt…”, he mumbled as he laid down next to me, staring at the ceiling. “Would you prefer sleeping naked?”, I chuckled and he smirked. “Maybe.”, he flirted and looked at me briefly but turned to look at the ceiling again.

I watched him from the side, admiring his facial features “What?”, he breathed, noticing my staring. “I thought you needed cuddles.”, I whispered back and a smile formed on his lips.

There wasn’t another word spoken. He just wrapped his arms around me, my head on his shoulder, my forehead against his head and my hand on my father’s shirt that hid his abs.

My heart beat quickly, while his fingertips traced over my upper arm and I tried to stay awake, wanting to live every second of this. But I was surrounded by his intoxicating scent, the warmth coming from him and our comfy position made me fall asleep almost instantly.

I woke up to the light getting turned on and Peter sitting up but I only groaned, not being awake enough to process what was happening. “Uh, Y/N?”, I heard Peter’s rough voice.
“Peter, it’s too cold without your hot body.”, I mumbled, “Why did you turn on the light?”

I felt him shake my arm and I sat up now, as well, my arm brushing his. I wanted to snap at him but then I noticed my father standing in the door frame. My eyes widened and I quickly looked at Peter, his eyes filled with panic.

“I repeat: What the hell is going on?”, he wanted to know, his arms folded in front of his chest, a strict look on his face.
“Mr. Stark, I swear, we didn’t-”, Peter started and my dad scoffed, “Don’t bullshit me. And hands off of my daughter!”

Peter scooted away from me, taking his warmth with him. “Dad, we were only-”, I began but he interrupted me.

“From this moment on, there’s a line.”, he said after a deep sigh, approaching us. “Dad.”, I moaned but he ignored me.
“Talking, hanging out, hugging. All fine with me, but that’s it. Nothing more than hugging. Understood?”

Peter nodded quickly, “Of course, Mister Stark.”
“Now, get out of this bed, kid.”, my dad sighed and Peter did as he was told, picked up his Spiderman suit and stood in front of him, ready to leave.

“Wait, is this my shirt?”, my dad wanted to know and Peter nodded slowly. “Do you want me to give it back?”, Peter’s hands grabbed the hem of the shirt, ready to take it off.

My dad shook his head, “God, no, just keep it.”

Part 2

hey hey hey which one should i finish first:

a) this jily ‘i slept with you the other day and I didn’t know we had a mutual friend and now we’re sitting across each other for brunch and it’s awkward’ au which is a ridiculous multichap and i’m just ~going with flow~


b) that one supernatural creature jily longshot where james is a werewolf and lily is a vampire and they’re rivals who have to team up to solve a murder a la mulder- scully style

Ridge - Roadkill to shelf

WARNING !! This post contains photos and descriptions of dead animals, skinned animals, decomposition, maggots, and the general gory details involved with cleaning up bones.

I’ve gotten a couple asks about the methods I use to clean bones, so I thought I’d put together a quick summary of the journey of my female Badger, Ridge, from road to shelf. It’s not really a tutorial, but I have almost kind of written it like one - keep in mind this is just Ridge’s personal cleanup journey, and all the steps she went through while being processed (it’s pretty similar for all my roadkill though) It’s a bit garbled and I haven’t really clarified anything… Hm. Maybe I will put together a proper tutorial in the future. For now, this is Ridge~

Keep reading

You know you're tickling trash when...

…your mind is constantly fixated on how many ways you could be tickled (lees), tickle others (lers) or both (switches) and you have little to no way to sate that interest you. Just. C r a v e.

I made a tiny friend today 😁🐝



The Bright Sessions Chloe Turner  Patient #13-A-3

“At first I wasn’t sure, it was just a quiet murmuring. You know like being next to a beehive, like, that steady hum. And then things started to break through the hum, and that’s when they started talking to me.”

“Who started talking to you?”

“The Angels.”

A Cold Kiss

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: just a bit o’ rainy cuddle and concerned Bucky

Word Count: 797

Warnings: fluff + swearing

A/N: just trying to get past a bit of writer’s block and had this idea because the weather here is sooo bad. Rescue P7 is coming soon, I promise. Enjoy 💛

I grunt in frustration as the hood of my jacket falls for the upteenth time.

“I can’t believe I spent ninety dollars on this thing.” I mutter, yanking it back up. The winds whips my cheek, making me shield my face to the side. My eyes catch sight of the tall bluejay-looking building, sighing with relief as I run into the doors.

“Hey, FRIDAY.’ I sigh.

“Good evening, Miss L/N.” I don’t bother to stop, I just walk to the elevator at the end of the large, futuristic lobby and climb in. After a few moments of red lasers being scanned through the small room, I request my floor and am up in no time.

“Buck, I’m home!” I yell as I exit the elevator. I throw my bag onto the floor beside me the moment I can. Bucky rounds the corner in a black tee-shirt and joggers, his hair in a loose bun.

“Where’ve you been?” he asks, his voice etched with concern. “You weren’t answering your phone.” I pull down my useless hood and shake my drenched hair out like a dog.

“Sorry,” I say, pulling off my coat, “the weather was so nice this morning, I figured I’d walk to my class. Big mistake, obviously.” Bucky frowns and walks over to me, planting a kiss on my cheek.

“You could’ve called. Tony would’ve sent a car. I could’ve come to get you.” he says softly. I smile at his concern.

“A little rain isn’t going to kill me.” I roll my eyes and begin walking across our shared floor, on my way to the bedroom.

“No, but it can sure as hell give you pneumonia.” Bucky points out. He trails behind me into our room, reaching behind the door for a towel. He wraps it around me, his arms firmly placed around my arms.

“I’m fine, Bucky.” I lean into his shoulder for a moment. “Just tired. Need a hell of a nap.” I pull away to take off my sneakers, which are completely ruined with water. I grumble in annoyance and sit down on the bed.

“Hold on, I’m on the phone with my therapist, let me hang up quick.” Bucky says, exiting the room. I lay down and let the exhaustion overtake my body, feeling the goosebumps on my arms. The weather was downright shitty, with wind slapping me across the face every chance it could and rain so cold it would soon start snowing. In May. Unbelievable.

Still laying down, I slip my damp jeans off my legs and sit there for a moment, looking at the ceiling drowsily. My combat class, though very beneficial, never seizes to kick my ass. And it doesn’t help that I feel shivers chilling me to the bone. Maybe I should’ve taken that towel. I lazily pull off my sweater as Bucky walks in. He smiles softly at the sight of me in nothing but my underwear, barely able to keep my eyes open. He walks over and sits next to me. He places his flesh hand on my thigh and nearly flinches.

“Jesus, doll, you’re freezing.” he says. I don’t respond to him, just reach for the duvet over my head. He gets up and moves in front of me, using his human hand to rub up and down my legs in attempt to warm me up. He gently kisses my kneecap, his lips moving up to my thighs and then downward to my calves. His mouth is chapped, but the dry skin itches gently on me along with his stubble, and it feels familiar. It feels like home.

His hands straighten out my knees from their bent position. It’s not lustful at all, and I can’t help but let my fingers run tiredly through his long hair, abandoning my attempt for the duvet. This works better anyway.

He drags his lips everywhere he can manage to warm me. His hot breath makes my stomach flutter despite how long we’ve been together. He still has that effect on me.

Long after I’ve fallen asleep, he stops and nudges me fully onto the bed. He rests my head gently on his pillow and pulls the duvet over me. He crawls in beside me and presses his chest against my back, his hands wrapping around me and resting on my bare hip bones. My wet hair tickles his face, but he doesn’t care. His thumb moves back and forth out of habit, and he feels absolutely wistful. It’s moments like these that make him think that maybe he isn’t as much of a monster as he believes. Why would I be with him if he was?

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