i came across this and i had to

Worst Behavior

length: 1,882 words

genre: smut

a/n: I don’t know what this is, I suck at writing smut, why do I even try. But Yuta has been killing me lately (I watch the Cherry Bomb mv 20 times a day at least just for Yuta). I did not proofread this…honestly this probably isn’t that great, but I told Kayla I’d get this up tonight, and we were so excited about this so haha

Originally posted by dimplesjae

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I came across something new on this morning’s run. An artist had his easel up and was painting this landscape. I glanced back as I passed by and his work looked pretty amazing. I run past this field on every run. . It was pretty cool to see someone find beauty in something I’ve never given a second thought to.

youtube

Just came across this video Onision made today about a video I made debunking his claim to having been diagnosed with CHRONIC depression (Dysthymia). I thought he had dug deeper in that basket of goodies he has and finally found the proof. As his video was getting closer to the end, I thought for sure he was going to pull out some paperwork saying he had, has or was diagnosed with CHRONIC depression but nothing came to fruition.

All he had in his failed video was showing random clips of my video while convincing all the little ignorant kiddies that he had just what he said he had even though what he said he had and what he claimed to be diagnosed with is no where to be found on his medical records. 

I will most likely make a video about this in the next few days.

Improvement!!!!

So I’ve spent most of the vacation trying to figure out how to talk to the teens across the street. Today the oldest came over and invited me to swim so I went. I expected to stay maybe an hour or two…SIX hours later decide to leave. I would’ve stayed but my grandma came over and checked on me. I had soo much fun! Hopefully this isnt a one time thing.

I remember when I first heard of Captain Underpants I’ve seen the books but never read them nor took an interest . I thought Captain Underpants was a kid and I even imagined his voice to sound like Reggie Bullnerd from Chalkzone (thank heavens I was wrong ) . My cousin had the books but he didn’t explain Captain Underpants to me properly just started by saying “snap your fingers and you’ll be sorry “ or “pour water on him and you’ll be sorry”  like what did that mean? Anyways when I came across the trailer for the movie I decided to check it out ,out of curiosity I learned that Captain Underpants is an adult who’s a mean-spirited  Prinicipal who was hypnotized by two troublemaking boys and I learned more about the stories, how did I get interested in the film ? I just kept watching the clips and trailers over and over and found some jokes funny after that I totally got into Captain Underpants and not only that, the author Dav Pilky was so inspiring I feel like I can relate to him I don’t know if I have ADHD , dyslexia or autism  a lot of teachers and doctors tell me I have one of them and whichever one it is that’s just fine where all wonderful and special .  Now I’m just nuts about the books and film I even hope to get that art book and  hope for either a sequel or a Netflix series fingers crossed . 

Screw rest, I’m taking a hike

Doc: Okay, remember you’re still in recovery. If you want to go back to work on Monday, you need to rest up, drink lots of water and avoid any unnecessary physical exerci–

Me:

I was told to stay put, so I climbed on top of a fell.

Oops. XD Okay but real talk here, I’m a Lapp and Lapps get healthy by climbing up their tiny mountains. We headed to the local national park and it was awesome! We weren’t the only ones there and my dad almost had an aneurysm from Ami barking up every person we came across, but the weather was much nicer than we expected and everything was pretty and yussss. <3 Have some pics because why not:

You know what fire elementals are made of, right?

Context, this was my first time playing pathfinder, I was a kitsune sorcerer, emphasis on sorcerer. Our party came across a Pyromancer who had summoned a fuckton of fire elementals.

Me(ooc): can I use my bite attack on the fire elemental.

DM: yes…but I really wouldn’t recommend it

I then proceeded to run ahead of the party, passing the tank of the group, and bit the closest elemental. I then proceeded to catch on fire for 2 turns, got surrounded by a bunch of the elementals, leaving me unable to be rescued, with our tank setting himself on fire trying to save me and I almost died.

DM(after the tank caught fire): You have the create water spell, why would you choose to bite it!?

Me(ooc): I have an Int of 6

DM: in game or out of game?

Me(ooc): yes

“I have pulled dead, mangled bodies from cars. I have lied to people as they were dying. I said you are going to be fine as I held their hand and watched the life fade out. I have held dying babies. Bought lunch for people who were mentally ill and haven’t eaten in a while. I have had people try to stab me. Fought with men trying to shoot me. Ben attacked by women who have had the shit kicked out of them by their husband as I was arresting him. I have held towels on bullet wounds. Done CPR when I knew it wouldn’t help just to make family members feel better. I have torn down doors, fought in drug houses. Chased fugitives though the woods. I have been in high speed car chases. Foot chases across an interstate during rush hour traffic. I have been in crashes. Been squeezing the trigger about to kill a man when they came to their senses and stopped. Waded through large angry crowds by myself. Drove like a mad man to help a fellow officer. Let little kids who don’t have much sit in my patrol car and pretend they are a cop for their birthday. I have taken a lot of people to jail. Given many breaks. Prayed for people I don’t even know. Yes and at times I have been violent when I had to be. I have been kind when I could. I admit I have drove to some dark place and cried by myself when I was overwhelmed. I have missed Christmas and other holidays more than I wanted too. Every cop I know has done all these things and more for lousy pay, suckie hours and a short life expectancy. We don’t want your pity, I don’t care for your respect. Just let us do our jobs without killing us.”

Out Cold

Prompt: Prompt if its alright-Lance with narcolepsy?- anon

I had so much fun writing this, so thanks so much for the prompt! This is a one-shot, and even though the ask didn’t specifically ask for klance… it ended up in here because, as I’ve said before, I have no self control. It took a bit of an unexpected turn, but hopefully the anon likes it? And other people do? As always, feedback is appreciated!

oh and @taylor-tut if you want to read it, of course


Lance’s entire life was full to the brim with close calls.

Granted, fighting a war against a corrupt alien empire will have its share of near-death experiences. But, oddly enough, another type of close call worried him more.

Lance didn’t particularly want to die if he could avoid it, but he’d honestly prefer that to his teammates finding out.

And he knew there was a chance they wouldn’t judge him for it, wouldn’t think it made him less of a paladin. After all, Hunk didn’t care in the slightest. But there was always the chance that they would.

Lance had always prided himself on being able to hide things. And it was even easier to hide things from the team than his enormous, nosy family. 

His ideas, insecurities, homesickness, bisexuality… he’d learned to bury these things deep down inside himself and try to ignore them.

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the carry on squad ft. doodle gifs

anonymous asked:

Do you have any advice for writing characters undercover? Thanks!

So, we’ve covered this topic a lot in the past. Undercover operatives, intelligence agents, black ops, assassins, and spies I’d start with a spies search on our website, as that’ll get you started. The really good references will be there. My big advice for writing any kind of spy fiction is to have a clear idea of what you want and which genre you’re chasing. Do want James Bond or George Smiley? You can blend these genres, but it’s a good idea to have a clear idea as that’ll define your narrative.

The first thing to understand about spies and any sort of shadow operative is the Burn Notice quote: “A spy is just a criminal with a government paycheck.”

Take a look at this passage. This is a character (Thirteen) trained as an undercover operative exiting a bad situation. What do you see?

Limping down the hall, I forced one foot before the other. Slowly, my stride lengthened. The silver door at the end didn’t open, so I pushed it, and stumbled out onto the launch pad. My gaze fell on a string of oval automatic airstreams parked all in a row. No, I frowned, eyes sweeping to street and the vehicles winging by in the air overhead. No self-respecting AI would let me drive in this condition. Robots always insisted on hospital, and I had no time to hack. To get out fast, I needed a human. A cabbie. Older, preferably female. Fingers to my neck, I tapped twice. Up came the ODS, my thoughts linking to: call a cab. Human.

A string of numbers and faces appeared before my eyes, the oldworld men and women working a dying industry. Better for No Questions Asked rides in our digital world, no one else called when they could pay a corporate run robot for half the cost.

I picked the first female face that flashed across my dash.

Time to pick up… thirty seconds.

I gripped my injured arm, and ran an analysis. Tucked out of sight, Sixteen’s pistol rested against my ribs. Ammunition at less than half a magazine, so seven rounds. Eight, if I counted the one in the chamber. The Uplink already registered the irreparable damage and severed the blood flow to the damaged limb. So, no more bleeding out. My upper lip curled. A bad trade off for no more arm. Damn, Sixteen.

Fifteen seconds.

I couldn’t hide in the shadows. Needed to seem desperate, distraught. Call up tears.

Ten seconds.

My blurred gaze flicked to the skyline, watching for black. The Ghosts wouldn’t appear in the datastream. Still, NIS hadn’t cut my access. Not yet.

Five.

A beat up airstream in ruby red dropped out of the sky to the left, pulling up to the curb. They were early. From the shabby state of their car, probably desperate. Good.

I limped over quickly. Even if they weren’t my ride, they were human and sitting in the driver’s seat. A car enthusiast who needed no AI systems to handle the steering. Likely to have built in cameras. More likely to possess a slow Uplink. Slow data received poor police service. My fingers seized the handle, flung open the door, and threw myself inside.

“Need a ride?” the voice was sympathetic, unfamiliar.

I slid across the bench into the seat behind the driver. My free hand tight on my damaged limb, couldn’t do much about my nose. So, instead, I tilted my head and caught her reflection in the mirror. Younger. Mid-thirties. Red hair worn short with one gray streak, tied back in a severe bun. Clear hazel eyes. Talk like you’re in pain, scared, but putting on a brave face. Tears. I wiped the blood from underneath my nose, sniffling. “Y-y-yeah.” I cleared my throat. “Yeah. Thanks.” I tried for a half-smile, half-grimace, and leaned on the window. “Just looking to get away. The address should be—”

“You don’t need to worry, I have it,” the driver said. “Came in with your order. Grace, right? You want to go downbelow, the Rep Shop.”

“Yeah.” Resting my cheek against the glass, I closed my eyes; Uplink sizing up her car’s systems. Automatic turned off, but easy enough to hijack. My free hand drifted off my injury, and moved near the pistol hilt jabbing my ribs.

“I’m Marla, I’ll be your driver today.” A pause followed. “You sure a pretty girl like you wants the Rep Shop? Not a hospital? You look pretty banged up.”

“No,” I replied. I got what she suggested, this was a nice neighborhood. “I just need… need to go…”

“Boyfriend trouble?”

I grimaced, eyes squeezing shut, and wished I felt a twinge of guilt. It’s like the Overseer always says, love is just a cover.

“Don’t worry, no need to say it,” Marla said as the engine revved, the floorplates shook, and the airstream lifted skyward. “Shipped enough victims out of here to know.”

Notice, she pays attention to her surroundings and makes choices based on her condition in service of her needs. She needs to get out quickly, but would run into more trouble stealing a car so she calls up a cab driven by a human. Human’s are easier to manipulate in short order than code cracking. She specifically aims for a female cab driver, one preferably older than she is.

Why?

She’s female. Another woman is more likely to assume her injuries are because of a man, and a cab driver will have encountered this scenario often enough to not pry too deeply into it. An older woman is likelier to be maternal and protective, but not so protective that she’ll stay beyond when Thirteen needs her too. However, pay attention to the fact that Thirteen never verbally confirms it was a man who caused her injuries. She lets Marla assume, and fill in the blanks herself. This gives her an out later if she needs to change her story and place the blame on Marla’s shoulders for misunderstanding.

This is an example of what’s called social engineering. Deliberately manipulating the people in your environment to divulge confidential information or getting them to do what you want.

Notice also: After getting into the vehicle, Thirteen’s hand goes to the gun she stole. As she is playing to Marla’s sympathies, she is also assessing the possibility of killing this woman and taking control of the car if things don’t go the way she’s planned. Thirteen would prefer to exit by the easiest means possible, but a good spy always has a contingency. She won’t compromise her safety, and civilian lives mean next to nothing. A dead body is one more problem to deal with, one more attention getter that she doesn’t want, but she’ll go there. Violence is messy, and sometimes necessary.

There’s no real difference between a spy and a conman. Still, if you want to trick people there’s a few rules to follow.

What a spy isn’t:

A compulsive liar, an overseller, or lies all the time. An undercover operative needs to maintain their identity, that is one identity, singular. While a spy can create many false personalities, they should only be using one at a time with the goal of giving away as little information in trade as possible.

Notice: Thirteen does not tell Marla a story, she lets Marla create the story and then plays along. It is easier to convince someone of a lie when they’ll craft it themselves. Why say something when you can get just as much by saying nothing at all?

“You’ve told her three lies. Suppose she’s an asset, now you have to make all three lies true.” - Spy Game

Your character can’t just lie, a liar will be caught after a prolonged period of time. They need to manipulate the truth by creating a fiction. A cover is a fictional person with a fictional job who people think really exists when they check the character’s identity. Assume their identity will be checked, re-checked, and checked again. They are not maintaining a cover to a singular individual, but multiple ones. Their assets are the locals they are manipulating in order gain access to information, and who often run the jobs for them. These assets will, most of the time, not know the truth or not know the whole truth about who the spy really is.

Assets can be friends, business associates, girlfriends/boyfriends, wives/husbands, disgruntled employees, janitors, etc.

Your character can’t enter a business or government agency as a pretend janitor if they’re also going there everyday as a reporter or contractor or some other job. They must maintain the fiction of their identity.

This is the biggest problem most authors will get into when writing spy fiction. The concept of telling lies is something that comes easily to most of us, the problem comes in with keeping up a fiction over a prolonged period of time. The next step is to be able to lie without guilt and throw over people who help you without remorse. Crafting that dual identity of a person who genuinely cares about their friends and allies versus the real one who… really doesn’t.

You need a solid grasp of social functions, mores, and conventions in order to write a spy because a spy is manipulating all those points to gain access. You also need to understand these rules change based on what society your character is entering. Social rules change based on social groups, be it economic or cultural. The expectations for a man or woman in Mexico City versus Seattle are vast, and your character needs to be versed in the world they’re walking into. They need a cover identity to suit their work. Someone who has the freedom to go many places without being questioned, but unimportant enough to be neither needed nor remembered.

A spy is always looking for a way in, to slide into your confidences or sympathies however they can. They are going to use you to get where they need to go. They are very convincing actors and they are changing, modifying themselves slightly for each person they encounter. Not so much though that their falseness becomes obvious to the other people who know them.

When we’re working with a female spy, for example, all the “bad woman” societal traits you’re inclined to throw away are exactly what she needs to succeed. She will flirt, and flatter, and seduce, and manipulate the men (and women) around her to gain entry. She may rotate between being a gorgeous woman and an unremarkable one by the use of fashion and makeup. She is exactly what so many men are afraid of, a social climber who is manipulating their feelings and her attractiveness in order to get what she wants because it is the most expedient method to get what she needs. The one who is manipulating society’s view of women as nonentities, nonthreatening/replaceable objects in order to do her job.

Don’t be afraid of these characters. Don’t be afraid of “unlikeable” characters.

Spies are bad people who do bad things. They are often cold, calculating, impersonal manipulators looking for the most expedient method to get what they need. Your spy’s cover is just a cover. Never forget the real person underneath, especially when they’re lying to themselves.

-Michi

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【A.R.M.Y 1기 BTS MAGAZINE Vol.1】BTS interview

Q: What was your childhood dream job? You know people dreamt of becoming the President, policeman and teacher etc.

V: Doctor.

Jimin: I changed it a lot. I changed every day as I read manhwa. I wanted to become a chef when I was reading ‘Cooking Master Boy’.

Jungkook: Professional gamer.

Rap Monster: Everyone probably dreamt of being a professional gamer.

Suga: I wanted to become an architect.

Rap Monster: It doesn’t suit you at all!

All: (laughs)

Suga: I don’t know why I wanted to become an architect. I remember when I was in primary school and I said architect is my dream job. 

All: Why? What’s the reason?

Suga: I was properly wondering whether the word ‘architect’ exists or not (laughs) I still don’t know why that was my dream job. 

Jin: I wanted to become a farmer. When I was in middle school, I went to help in my uncle’s farm in the countryside. I fell in love with the atmosphere and the peacefulness of the countryside that I felt back then. 

J-Hope: Wow, this hyung is so pure. Is being a farmer still your dream?

Jin: If there’s a chance, I still want to farm.

V: I’m the same with Jin hyung. My uncle is also…

All: Oh~ Is he farming? 

V: He’s a doctor.

Rap Monster: How is doctor and farmer the same occupation?

V: I mean we were both influenced by our uncles.

All: (laughs)

V: Once I was sick and I went to see my hospital uncle.

Jin: What the heck is 'hospital uncle’, it should be doctor uncle (ㅋㅋㅋ)

Rap Monster: I have a plane uncle.

V: Anyway, I was in pain and crying. I went to see my uncle, he wore a mask, white gown and had gloves on, he looked so cool. That’s why I wanted to become a doctor. 

J-Hope: You guys probably don’t believe me but I wanted to become a tennis player. I played tennis in primary school. 

All: Stop. How long are you going to keep talking about (becoming a) tennis player (ㅋㅋㅋ).

J-Hope: Ah~ I haven’t participated in the ISAC games but I did sports when I was a child! 

Suga: Do you still remember when we went to Thailand and we played tennis there, you weren’t extremely that good (laughs).

J-Hope: Of course! I haven’t played for 7 years~ It’s just a dream, dream! My dream. Back then, I really wanted to become a tennis player, so I worked very hard. My wish was to be like Maria Yuryevna Sharapova, hitting the ball into the air while saying 'oh-i’. 

Suga: You suit to be like 'euhahaha’ while playing it. 

All: (laughs)

Rap Monster: My dream was to be the apartment’s security guard.

All: How come? What made you decide to be that?

Rap monster: One day, I came home from school and a young ahjussi asked me: “have you eaten yet?” It was so cool. 

Jin: So “have you eaten” was cool? 

Jimin: He fell for the uniform.

Rap Monster: I think that’s why (laughs).

J-Hope: My dream was the coolest!

V: Doctor is the coolest~

Jin: Do you know how cool a farmer is. 

Jimin: (suddenly) When I was in middle school, I wanted to become a policeman. 

Jimin: When I was watching the TV, it was so cool to see the policeman having a confrontation with the criminal.

Jungkook: I wanted to become a badminton player.

Jin: You just said you wanted to become a gamer.

Suga: Just say one.

Jungkook: When I was learning badminton, I was really into it.

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Carousel | 06

Character: Min Yoongi x reader (oc)

Genre/words: Arranged Marriage! AU, Angst / 9,118 words

Summary: He is the successor of his family’s business empire, and you are the female heir of yours. After the trouble his older brother had created in the past, he now must face certain requirements needed for the sake of the family’s future and to save his rights of inheritance, and you become his only way out. Everything might seem so simple, just the way they are supposed to. But everything isn’t always what it seems, is it?

a/n: This chapter will show more backstories. And unlike the previous ones where I add the backstory at the front as an opening, the scenes will go back and forth as a filler. Flashback scenes will be written in italics^^

Playlist | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06

Cr.


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yondadudonta  asked:

TALK STARKQUILL TO ME I NEED

Their meeting was a little less meet-cute and a little more,,, meet-ugly sort of thing.


Mainly because they both read the situation very badly and ended up trying to kill one another. Completely accidentally, but.

Still.

And really, can you blame Tony? Their ship does crash-land in the middle of a crowded highway, and barely manages to avoid civilians. Then they pop out, and they’re armed to the teeth, looking pretty threatening and…well… alien.

People end up calling (what’s left of) the Avengers- which happens, at the time, to be Tony and Tony alone.

Except the Guardians crashed in Florida; when Tony got the call he was in New Orleans at a science convention, and the suit was still in New York.

But he went anyway. Suit or no suit, he had to try. He was the only line of defence now, after… everything.

So, armed with a sophisticated watch-gauntlet and a gun he always kept tucked in his jacket pocket, he takes the jet and leaves to try and stop them from potentially, y’know, annihilating the world or whatever.


Except things don’t really happen like that, in the end.


“Listen, what are the chances you’re gonna do as I say when I order you to drop your weapons and leave?” tony asks wearily, as he holds the gun at the biggest guy’s weirdly patterned face and the gauntlet at the woman holding the largest gun he’s ever seen in his life. He doesn’t even bat an eyelid toward the talking walking raccoon or… the tree…thing.

Just another day in the life, at this point.

Although it would be kinda embarrassing if he ends up getting murdered by the raccoon. What the damn hell would they put on his grave? Here lies Tony Stark- saved New York, but unable to protect himself from the dangers of the Mighty Raccoon?

As soon as he’d spoken, about 13 different weapons were pointed in his face. Which hardly made sense, considering there were five of them and they all only had two hands. But whatever.

“How’s about we ask you the same? Except more forcefully, considering we got all the guns,” the raccoon said.

Tony rolled his eyes. “Where the fuck would I go then, what with me being a human being who lives here? Just fling myself into the void of space? And yes, tempting as that might sound, I’ve been there done that. Not as appealing as I would have thought, to be honest.” 

The five stared at him in confusion for a moment, before what looked to be the only actual human stepped forward, head cocked. His eyes were bright and beard scruffy- Tony thought it suited him.

Tony also thought he should probably focus on the task at hand, and his ever-growing chances of imminent death, rather than how pretty his opponent was.

“You’re just a human, huh?” Hot Scruffy Man asked.

Tony raised an eyebrow, and then pointed the gun at him when he took another step. “What gave it away? The fact that I have the same composition and structure as every other human on the planet? The fact I look just like you, who is also a human?”

“Half human,”

“What was the other half, pure asshole?”

“Actually… kinda, yeah.” The Hot Scruffy Man paused, and then shrugged. “Daddy issues.”

Tony had a brief moment to wonder what the fuck he was doing before an involuntary snort of laughter had escaped out of him. “Yeah- rode that train before, buddy- still doesn’t explain why you’re on the planet I protect, waving your guns around at innocent people and causing millions of dollars worth in property damage.”

The team in front of him paused, and then the man looked back at the green lady, who just shrugged and put down her gun. “We were told there was an imminent threat to your planet. We were in the neighbourhood, so we thought we’d come save you.”

Tony stared at them, contemplating. “Where are your sources from?”

“The fine NovaCorps,” Massive Bulked Alien Dude spoke up.

Tony squinted, running a hand across his forehead. “Am I… supposed to know what that means?”

“Fancy space police,” Raccoon told him.

“You seen any apocalyptic aliens round here lately?” Hot scruffy Man asked him again, slightly confused now. 

Tony just sighed. “Nope. And if there were, I would handle them. You can go back…wherever you came from, guys, it’s fine, Earth is fine-“

“You? You’re gonna protect the Earth? With your fancy little handgun and hand-firey thing?” The Raccoon laughed, and Tony scowled.

Luckily, because he had been counting the seconds in his head since he’d called it, he knew he was about to do something really badass, and it wiped the scowl off his face, replacing it with a little smile as he stared at the stupid talking Raccoon. 

“No,” he said, shrugging as he heard the familiar whirring sound of metal moving at hundreds of miles an hour up ahead of him.

The aliens looked up, one of them pointing their gun at the source of noise, like it would do anything. But in the space of a few seconds, it had already reached its intended target, slowing down just enough to not vaporise his body and wrapping around him, every piece fitting in a way that made Tony want to give himself a round of applause.


“I’m gonna protect Earth with this,” he said, raising his two repulsors and loading them right in the Raccoon’s little face.


There was complete silence for a second, before Hot Scruffy Man made a noise that should really, for the sake of Tony’s sanity, be kept in the bedroom. “That was literally the coolest and most attractive thing I have ever seen ever. In my life.”

Tony couldn’t help himself; he smirked and cocked his head Hot scruffy Man. “Sweetie, I appreciate the sentiment, but you’re gonna have to keep it in your pants until we can sort this out.”

Green Lady sighed, and walked forward to smack Hot Scruffy Man around the back of the head. “You know what we talked about, Peter- no flirting with potential targets. It’s in bad form.”

“This guy certainly hasn’t got a bad form,” Hot Scruffy Man- Peter- nodded over to Tony and smirked.

Green Lady sighed, and then turned to Tony. “Listen. You want to protect your planet. We want to protect your planet. How about rather than pointing our weapons at one another, we try and… you know, do what we set out to do?”

Instantly, the smile slide off Tony’s face, not that any of them could tell behind the faceplate. “I work alone. Sorry. You’re gonna have to l-“


And that was when the world sort of exploded around them.


Without even thinking about it, Tony shot forward and wrapped his arms around the two closest to him- the Green Lady and Peter- rolling them to the ground and hoping that the rest of his team, especially the more flammable ones, were okay. Green Lady yelled at the sudden-ness of his approach, but Peter just sighed. “Here we go,” he muttered into Tony’s shoulder.

Tony was inclined to agree, there.




Half-way through the battle, Peter AKA Starlord AKA Galaxy’s Number One Asshole asked him out.

Tony looked at him for a good four seconds before he got tackled to the ground by… (Dracula? Dracker? He was having to learn the names on the go, and his mind was currently on other, more explosion-based things) the Massive Bulked Alien Dude.

“THAT IS VERY UNPROFFESSIONAL, PETER!” He yelled, before looking down at Tony. “Are you well? I thought you may have been hit with a paralytic beam of some sort.”

Tony nodded, and then sat up. “No paralytic. Just your team-mate.”

Massive Bulked Alien Dude nodded wisely. “He does tend to have that affect on people.”

“What? Endangering their goddamn lives on the field?”

Massive Bulked Alien Dude paused, and then shrugged as he rolled off Tony. “I was going to say rendering people speechless with his idiocy, but that too.”

“Hey, that’s not fair, I’m actually clever, Tony, I promise! Boyfriend material, right here!” Peter yelled across the battlefield, looking over to them and grinning as he shot an alien in the back of the head without even looking.

“You’re a god damn alien!” tony yelled back exasperatedly, trying to keep the smile off his face as he jumped high into the air and then landed on an unfortunate opponent.

“Yeah- think of all the new tricks I must know, then,” Peter countered, winking as he dived behind a car and then threw what must have been a fancy bomb over the bonnet.

Tony’s mind briefly short-circuited at that (Holy mother of God) astute observation- but he quickly regrouped and fired a repulsor at an alien attempting to sneak up behind Rocket. “I’m gonna need a few examples before I agree to anything, sweetie,” he replied.

Peter laughed and opened his mouth, but then the Tree hit him over the head. “Ow!” he complained, looking betrayed.

“I have enough issues dealing with one distracted team-member whilst in the middle of a battle, I will not be dealing with two! Cut the flirting out!” Gamora yelled, as Tony watched her utterly destroy two different aliens at once.

“She thinks we should be ‘professionals’ and ‘focus on the mission’ when we’re in battle,” Peter said grumpily, wiping a cut across his face and then shrugging. “I respectfully disagree.”

Tony had to cut the conversation short again in order to swoop up and laser his way into the main hull of the ship that loomed barely even twenty meters over the battlefield, but he still had the team in the comm that FRIDAY had patched him into. “So what about Monday? You sticking around until then?” He asked.

Rocket swore at them down the line, but Peter just laughed. “For you, baby, of course I am.”

“Good. I’ve got a meeting with… let’s call him an ex. Be nice to have an excuse to blow him off.”

Peter whistled, “Oooh, want me to sweep you off your feet and declare battle with him for hurting you? I’m always up for it.”

“Much as I would like to see that, he’s kind of peak physical perfection. Plus I’d rather just make out with you,” Tony admitted.

“That’s fair. I want to make out with me too.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“Yep- welcome to the Guardians- we’re all assholes here. You’ll fit right in,” Peter told him.

“I am GROOT!” Came a rumbling voice that Tony could hear even off the comms, and he looked down in time to watch the tree grab Peter around the wait and haul him, flinging him up in to the sky with a yell.

It was a perfect throw, to be fair to Groot. Peter’s momentum cut out just as he was level with Tony, who grabbed his shoulders and lifted his faceplate, just for a second, in time for Peter to plant one on his mouth with a grin and a raised eyebrow, before he began falling again, right into Groot’s waiting arms.


Through the comm, Gamora just sighed. “Idiots. All of you.”

Just Right

MASTERLIST

Requested. No. I just really wanted to do something fluffy about Shawn admitting his feelings for you. Kinda sucks but who cares 

Word count: 2,016

She was so insanely beautiful. The kind of beautiful people write songs about, the kind of beautiful I want to write songs about.

Even when sleeping deeply with her messy hair in a bun. Even with her mascara smashed out under eyes. Even when she laid here in my lap and those cute, little snoring noises slipped out of her unflawed rosy lips.

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