i put them side by side to show for the cap but yeah

2

Filthy Frank TV Lore Masterpost

I just wanted to take some time out (actually i’m bored) to fully explain the whole ~Filthy Frank~ lore, or at least, the “main” characters and how they weave in and out of the show.

Because, let’s be real, George didn’t even know what the hell was going on for the first two years and the Wikia is a mess.

Keep reading

Among the Crowd (Soulmate AU)

Summary: Soulmates’ worlds go from black and white to colors when they are in the same room for the first time. Bucky is a famous actor in the middle of a convention, trying to find his soulmate, you.

Word Count: 2,232

A/N: This is a re-write of a Dean W. fic and I hope you all like it :D 

Originally posted by v-writings


Bucky took a swig of water, tightening the cap on the bottle before setting it to the side. His meet-and-greet was about to start. He could hear the bustling of the crowd right outside the door and took a deep breath. Alongside him was Clint, a co-star.

“You doing okay, buddy?” asked Clint, eyes concerned as he placed a hand on Bucky’s shoulder.

Bucky smiled. “Yeah, I’m alright.”

After a few minutes, Nat Romanoff and Sam Wilson took their seats next to each other and the writer of the show, Bucky’s oldest friend, Steve Rogers, emerged from behind the black curtain that had been put up behind the actors.

Keep reading

Dirty Minded Cap*

Pairing Steve Rogers x Reader
Rating: Explicit
Prompt: Hi there! I loved resolution! Can I request one where the reader usually wears contacts, but runs out and wears her glasses and Steve realizes he has a thing for the naughty librarian look? Total smut. (requested by @ballerinafairyprincess)
Word Count: 2.1k
Genre: NSFW/SMUT
Warnings: Oral sex (female receiving) and unprotected sex. [Sex is safer with a wrapper. Use condoms, folks.]
Author’s Note: I don’t take requests for the moment, but this one has been sent to me after I’ve started posting on this blog, so I thought I could write it and I actually like the prompt. Hope you like it too, though. xx

    You dragged your feet to the kitchen of the Avengers compound, setting a pile of files and books on the counter. Sighing, you reached for the coffee pot and poured yourself a mug. You hummed a long soft moan as you swallowed the hot drink and you leaned against the fridge, looking down and drinking until a certain famous Russian redhead came in.

    “I didn’t know you wore glasses,” Natasha smiled and she poured herself a cup of coffee.

    “I woke up late and I didn’t have time to put in contacts.” You whined, clinging to the rest of the steaming hot liquid and you breathed it in.

    “You know what they say about men loving women wearing glasses,” she obviously quipped and you rolled your eyes playfully.

    “Yeah, of course. Everybody likes the nerd, right?” You chuckled and Steve walked in, joining Natasha behind the counter. “Hi, Steve,” you greeted, watching as his body tensed up when he heard your voice.

    “Y/N,” his smile faded away as he noticed the device perching on the top of the bridge of your nose. “Glasses? You told me you hate them.”

    “I do, but I had no choice. Nat will explain… Sorry, guys, I’ve got a lot of work waiting,” you took back your papers, walking past him with a smile. “See you later, Captain.”

    Keep reading

    anonymous asked:

    PROMPT: D & P somehow get into a debate over who is kinkier in bed. Phil says something like 'Just because you have 5 vibrators doesn't make you more kinky. And yes. I know you have them. I hear the buzzing at two am bc I'm a heavy sleeper but you don't know how to be quiet' then cue rough sex

    Warning!! Smut: Top! Phil, daddy kink, degradation, dirty talk, vocal Dan, bantz, dom! Phil, coming untouched (twice), coming in pants (once), etc.


    ~Thinking about it, Dan was almost positive him and Phil had rarely ever had a proper, real argument. It was usually about silly things when they did; anime, editing, memes, etc. Then when they did have an actual fight, it always resulted in them both crying and saying sorry. This time it was different, this wasn’t a real argument, this was leading into territory that hadn’t ever really gone too before.

    ~Dan and Phil had been joking around, sat in their lounge talking mindlessly about something, tossing back and forth a small bouncy ball they found and laughing. Dan was a lousy throw, missed, and hit Phil in the eye. To which, Phil replied with, “Kinky.”

    ~Dan snorted slightly and shrugged. “Nah kinky would be if I had called you daddy and threw it at you acting like a pissed off toddler.” He said pointedly, catching the ball and throwing it back. “I guess you’re right. I guess you aren’t as kinky as me then.” He said mostly to joke, throwing the ball back before seeing Dan raise an eyebrow.

    ~Dan gave him a questioning look, shaking his head before throwing the ball back to him. “Yeah I highly doubt that you’re kinkier than me, Lester.” He challenged, to which Phil smirked in response. “Just because you have like five vibrators doesn’t mean you’re kinkier than me.”

    ~Dan felt his ears turn red, looking away and blushing, not commenting back. “Yes I know you have them. I’m no idiot, I can hear the buzzing at like two AM. Or at least I would be able too if you knew how to stay quiet.” He chuckled softly, seeing Dan turn even more red.

    ~Dan finally looked up, shrugging. “I’ve always been vocal. I just figured you’d be asleep by then..” He trailed off, looking away again and blushing once more. “Dan, I’ve been your best friend for years and you still don’t know I’m never asleep at 2 am?” Phil laughed softly.

    ~Dan shrugged again, trying to brush it all off and play it cool. “I’m still kinkier than you fuck off.” He attempted to change the subject. “I don’t believe that for a second. Just because you moan like  bitch in heat doesn’t mean you’re kinky, or good in bed.” He smirked.

    ~Dan gave him an offended look, glaring a bit. “Shut up!” He threw a pillow at him from the couch. “Im plenty good in bed, and far kinkier than you could even dream of being.” He said, to which Phil instant denied. “Yeah no. I would ask for proof, but I don’t feel like being disappointed.” He teased, knowing Dan would get more riled up the more he went on like this.

    ~Phil chuckled deeply when Dan didn’t reply. “I guess I’m right. Dan Howell isn’t kinkier than me, and he’s shit in bed.” He declared, mostly to himself, seeing Dan’s face turn red from a mixture of anger and embarrassment. “I’m great in bed. Maybe you’re the one who sucks in bed, that’s why you’re harping on me so much.” He accused, seeing Phil raise an eyebrow at him.

    ~Phil brushed off the accusation, leaning back on the couch and putting his hands behind his head. “Sorry, I don’t get affected by very wrong accusations like you.” He hummed. “Are you saying yours against me was false then?” Dan smirked. “No I still think you suck in bed.” Phil laughed, looking over at him with that damn smirk still plastered on his face.

    ~Dan huffed and crossed his arms, glaring at him. “And what makes you think you’re so damn good in bed?” He asked. “Mhm?”

    ~Phil laughed, giving him a small shrug and closing his eyes. “I’d bet money I could make you cum untouched before i was even close.” He said casually. “Hell, I’d bet money I could have you begging me for it within 10 minutes.”

    ~Dan chuckled sarcastically. “Yeah right. You couldn’t get into my pants even if you took me to dinner and a movie first.” He snorted.

    ~Phil looked over at him once more, pushing his hair off his face and sitting up, chuckling deeply. “You say that because you know it’s true. You know easily I could have you begging for my cock, whimpering and whining for me to fuck you so hard you can’t walk the next day.”

    ~Dan swallowed visibly at his words, trying to push them away and shaking his head. “Oh whatever.” He denied. “Don’t lie to yourself Danny. I know damn well you want me. All those cries of my name and daddy over and over again in the middle of the night. You always sound so pretty, almost like you’re purposely putting on a show knowing I’m awake. I bet you look even better.”

    ~Dan was blushing furiously again, shaking his head but not speaking. “Awe..” Phil smirked, moving a hand on Dan’s thigh and squeezing gently. “Getting all worked up, Dan?” He cooed, leaning over and biting his earlobe gently. “Thinking about how nicely I’d stretch you open, how much better it’d be than all your toys, having me fucking into you, holding you down and marking up your neck and chest, making you my property?” He hummed.

    ~Dan didn’t even try to shake his head in denial, letting a small whimper pass his lips as Phil spoke. He felt himself being pushed back, Phil crawling between his legs in a swift motion and ghosting his lips over Dan’s neck. “You’d like that wouldn’t you baby? My thick cock ruining your pretty hole, teeth sinking into your neck and leaving dark bruises, my cum filling you up nicely..” He started placing small kisses down Dan’s neck.

    ~Phil moved down the side of his neck, kissing gently, occasionally taking the smooth skin between his teeth and nipping quickly. Dan was squirming under him, quickly becoming a mess. “Fuck..Phil..” Dan whimpered out, hands gripping the older male’s shirt tightly. “What baby boy?” Phil smirked gently.

    ~Dan whimpered loudly, his head thrown back as Phil bit down roughly and sucked a few proper marks against his throat. “Fuck me!” He cried out without thinking, gasping when Phil’s lips detached from his beck and moved to his mouth.

    ~Phil kissed him for a while, his hands moving under his shirt and rubbing circles into his hip bones. Dan was whimpering into his mouth, kissing back messily as he wiggled under him. “Please Phil.” He whined when Phil pulled back from the kiss, watching the older male tug off his shirt quickly. Dan did the same, looking at him with desperate eyes.

    ~Phil chuckled and leaned back down, feeling Dan’s hands fumbling with his belt, the metal clinking and Dan’s moaning the only sound in the room. Dan’s hands moved back, his arms around Phil and his nails dragging down his back once Phil started grinding into him, hips rutting together roughly.

    ~Dan was coming undone too soon, he felt like a horny teenager all over again as Phil’s hips rolled into his own, the friction of his jeans and boxers against the head of his cock almost enough to send him over the edge already, just needing a little more. He moaned loudly, feeling Phil nip his bottom lip and tug it back, attacking his mouth again for another heated kiss.

    ~Phil moved his hand down quickly, starting to palm Dan through his jeans firmly. Dan was getting louder, his moans and whimpers bouncing off the walls and drowning out all other sound. He cried out, starting to cum hard, blushing a deep red as he did.

    ~Phil chuckled softly, smirking. “I guess I was wrong..” He hummed. “About..?” Dan panted slightly, feeling Phil’s hips still pressing into his own. “You are good in bed. So far.” He smirked, his lips reattaching to Dan’s quickly, his hips still rolling into his.

    ~Dan didn’t take long to get hard again, Phil having some surreal effect on his libido he had never seen before, not that he was complaining. He felt Phil’s fingers hook under his jeans, tugging them down with force until they were on the ground.

    ~Phil did the same, slowly stripping with him until there was a pile on the ground of all their clothes. Phil reached down, wrapping his hand around the younger male’s cock and starting to stroke slowly, his thumb rubbing over the tip and over his slit repeatedly, Dan bucking his hips up in response each time, desperate for the touch.

    ~Dan wasn’t quiet, he never was, but in the sexual aspect he was a vocal guy. He liked to moan, he liked to put on a show for whoever was fucking him, and Phil would be lying if he said it wasn’t the hottest thing he had ever seen in his life. “Should we go to the bed?” Dan asked between kissing, whining and pouting when he felt Phil’s hand pull away from his aching cock.

    ~Phil gripped his ass, pulling him into his lap and lifting him up with surprising ease, carrying him to the bedroom with his lips attached to his neck. Dan felt his back hit the bed, Phil between his legs again and his hand fumbling to the side for his top drawer, finding the small blue bottle of lube and handing it to Phil.

    ~Phil chuckled, popping the cap and pouring a thick layer over three of his fingers, moving his hand between Dan’s legs and circling his rim. Dan shivered, his thighs shaking in anticipation before letting out a loud, strained moan when Phil slipped two fingers into him with ease.

    ~Phil worked his fingers in and out of the whimpering, writhing man under him, curling them slowly to try and find his spot. He smirked, hearing Dan cry out, his back arching off the mattress once he found it. He added a third digit, scissoring his fingers slowly for a moment before deciding he was stretched enough, spending a few moments rubbing against Dan’s prostate.

    ~Dan was whining at the top of his lungs, breathless, covered in a thin layer of sweat and his hair curling against his forehead as he was worked open. Phil was in awe, drinking in the sight and sound of Dan. “You sound so good baby..such a slut for me already.” He breathed, pulling his fingers out slowly.

    ~Dan whimpered, his legs wrapping around Phil’s hips and trying to pull him closer. Phil chuckled, smacking his thigh as a warning. “Don’t be a greedy slut or I’ll leave you here with a vibrator in as punishment. I could get off on my own, come back later when I’, ready to use your hole for my pleasure, just leave you hear unable to cum with a toy against your spot for a few hours.” He threatened, watching Dan shake his head.

    ~Phil chuckled softly, smirking. “That’s what I thought baby..” he said, stroking over himself and coating his length with the leftover lube, moaning lowly. He positioned at his entrance, pushing in his tip before pulling out, smirking when Dan whined and started clenching around nothing, his head thrashing back in frustration. “Beg.” Phil smirked.

    ~Dan pouted, looking up at him and whining loudly, no longer caring. “Please daddy just fuck me! I’ve been so good, I’ve been such a good slut for you. Please just fuck me, use me, ruin me, make me yours.” He begged, gasping and arching his back when he felt Phil push in suddenly.

    ~Dan’s whole body shook, feeling more full than ever, his hands grasping at nothing for something, anything to grip as Phil started to fuck him quickly, barely giving him time to adjust. It hurt, but in all the best ays. The burning, Phil hitting his prostate dead on over and over again as if he had done this a thousand times, his nails digging into Dan;s hips as he gripped them for leverage. Dan was in bliss, tears in the corner of his eyes from the intense pleasure.

    ~Phil was breathless, thrusting harder and harder into Dan, their hips slamming together each time he pushed back in. Dan was unbelievably tight, warm, swallowing his cock perfectly, screaming his name. He felt Dan move up, his arms around him again and his nails dragging down his back probably hard enough to draw blood.

    ~Phil groaned loudly, trying to keep quiet and enjoy the beautiful noises pouring from Dan’s swollen and pink parted lips. “God fucking dammit..” Phil muttered, leaning down and resting his forehead against Dan’s as he thrusted hard. “You’re so good baby..so good for me. Taking my cock like you were made too, all these pretty moans and curses all for me.”

    ~Dan nodded, rocking his hips into him as he was slammed into over and over again. “All for you daddy fuck!” He was almost screaming, unable to stay quiet for more than a moment, the build of his orgasm tightening in his stomach. Only a few short moments later he was coming again, white ribbons along both of their chests, loud shouts of Phil’s name and various obscenities pouring from his mouth at high enough volume he was sure everyone on their floor could hear him, but he didn’t care.

    ~Phil started breathing heavy, Dan tightening around him as he came for the second time that night, the feeling sending him over the edge. His thrusts became less rhythmic as he grew closer, Dan clenching tightly around him until he came himself, deep inside the younger male, gasping and groaning, his hips moving erratically as he rode out his orgasm.

    ~Phil collapsed onto him, rolling over and pulling out, hearing Dan whimper quietly as his cum dripped out of him slightly. Dan moved over to lean on him, looking at him and smiling a little. “Wanna nap and then we’ll talk about this?” He offered, seeing Phil nod before they both passed out. 



    A/N: Can I just with the fact that I still always listen to Often by The Weeknd whenever I write lmao. This is 2.3 k, so t’s seriously official, I can’t write a short hc. 

    Family

    Ford leaned against the gates beside his brother. They were currently outside the gates of Wildwood Middle School, Piedmont, waiting to pick Dipper and Mabel up from school. They had arrived in California unannounced. They’d docked the Stan O’ War II over in Emeryville and had been picked up by Dipper and Mabel’s parents. Neither party had told the kids they were coming - it was a surprise. It was roughly two months into the school year and two months since the older Pines twins had first set sail on the Stan O’ War. They had decided to pay the kids a visit. Dipper and Mabel’s father, Jason, had been overjoyed to discover that his supposedly ‘dead’ Uncle Stanley was actually still alive and that Ford was here too. It had been a fairly tearful reunion on both parts - Ford had barely met his nephew before and he’d been elated to finally get to know him properly. The younger twins’ mother, Kristen, was really pleased to meet them too.


    “What time did Kristen say the kids finished?” Ford looked over at Stan. “Three, wasn’t it?”


    Stan checked his watch. “Yeah, they should have been out by now, surely.”


    As if on cue, a loud bell rang out across the school grounds and a minute later kids started filing out, meeting up with their parents and friends and leaving. The older Pines twins scanned the sea of children for any sight of Mabel and/or Dipper. After five minutes, Mabel’s familiar cheery voice could be heard over the crowd. Stan and Ford stayed put, waiting for her to get closer. Mabel walked right past them, barely able to see them beyond the taller kids either side of her. She seemed to be looking for her parents.


    “Where do you think you’re going?” Stan called.


    Mabel whirled round and gasped. A wide smile instantly spread across her face and she ran towards them. “GRUNKLE STAN! GRUNKLE FORD!” She exclaimed, running up to them and embracing both of them in tight hugs. “What are you doing here?!”


    “Well, we were passing California and thought we’d come and visit you.” Ford was beaming, hugging her tightly. “We docked the boat over in Emeryville.”


    “We couldn’t resist coming to see you,” Stan grinned, lifting Mabel up and embracing her tightly. The little girl wrapped her arms around his neck, giggling.


    “It’s so good to see you too! What’s the boat like? Have you found any monsters? Have you found any treasure?!”


    “Relax, pumpkin,” Stan chuckled, setting Mabel back down again. “We’ll explain everything when we get home.”


    “You’re staying with us?!” Ford didn’t think it was possible for Mabel’s smile to get any bigger, but he was proved wrong. “Really?!”


    “Yep,” Ford grinned. “We’ll be staying in the spare room at your place,”


    “How long will you be staying?”


    “Dunno,” Stan shrugged. “Until your parents get fed up and kick us out.” He smirked.


    Ford laughed. “That could either be in an hour or a month.”


    “Dipper’s gonna be so happy to see you guys!” Mabel turned round, scanning the crowd for her twin. “When he eventually gets out.”


    Ford stood on the tips of his toes to look over the heads of the parents in the crowd. For a moment, he was looking for the familiar blue and white pine tree cap, but then remembered the boy had traded hats with the ginger Mystery Shack employee (Wendy? Was that her name?) before they had left Gravity Falls. Sure enough, he soon spotted the boy amongst the crowd. “Dipper!”


    Dipper perked up as he heard his name being called. He frowned. That couldn’t be who he thought it was, could it? No, they were out on the boat - That was until he saw Grunkle Ford’s head above those of the other parents. “Grunkle Ford!” He rushed forward, shoving kids out of the way.


    A split second later, Ford had been tackled by the young boy. He laughed, scooping Dipper up into his arms and hugging him tightly. “Good to see you too!”


    Dipper laughed, his deerstalker hat lying lopsided on his head, as he wrapped his arms around Ford. “What are you doing here?”


    “We were sailing past California and decided to come and see you.” Ford grinned, putting Dipper down beside his sister. “We’ll be staying at your place for a little while.”


    “Really?!” Dipper’s reaction mirrored his sister’s. “Wait… we?”


    Stanley laughed. “Hey, where’s my hug?”


    “Grunkle Stan!” Dipper ran over to the other man, hugging him equally as tightly. “You’re here too?!”


    “Course. What, you thought Ford left me on the boat so he could see you all by himself?” Stan chuckled, hoisting Dipper up into his arms for a better hug. “No way was I staying put on the boat!”


    “Come on, you guys!” Mabel grabbed Ford’s hand and started dragging him towards where the car was parked. “Let’s go! I’ve got so much cool stuff to show you!”


    Ford laughed and looked over his shoulder at Stanley. “Yeah, Stan, come on! I can’t drive, remember?”


    Stanley scoffed and put Dipper down, following his brother and Mabel over to where they’d parked their parents’ car (they’d borrowed the family Volvo). “Only because you forgot how to,”


    Ford tried to look indignant, which was kind of difficult with a hyperactive thirteen-year-old clinging to his wrist. “Hey! It’s not my fault I didn’t drive for thirty or so years while I was lost!”


    Stanley shoved his brother’s shoulder playfully as he caught up to them, Dipper by his side. “Yeah, I know, Poindexter. Those alien cars were too weird, huh?”


    “Do you have any idea how difficult they are to steal - I mean operate?” Ford coughed.


    Stanley burst out laughing. “You tried to steal one? My brother, Mr Couldn’t-Even-Take-Free-Samples? Didn’t that Sanchez guy ever lend you his car?”


    “A) It was a ship, not a car,” Ford held up a finger. “And B) No, he was always the one driving.”


    Stanley rolled his eyes as they got to the car. He climbed into the driver’s side. Ford went to open the passenger side door, but Mabel beat him to it. “I wanna sit up front!”


    “No fair!” Dipper protested. “You had shotgun on the way here!”


    “Did not. You’re lying,” Mabel stuck her tongue out at him.


    “Am not!”


    “Are to!”


    “Am not!”


    “Are to!”


    Ford gently pushed Mabel out the way and stood in front of the door to the front passenger seat. “Right, how about I get shotgun privilege, since you can’t decide who gets it?”


    “No!” Both of the younger twins cried in unison. “That’s not fair!”


    “Grunkle Ford Mabel had it on the way here!” Dipper protested.


    Ford shrugged. “Maybe I want to sit in the front seat for a change?”


    Stanley was laughing. “Just sit in the front, Mabel.” he chuckled. “But Dipper gets shotgun on the next two trips, okay?”


    Mabel stuck her tongue out at Dipper again and climbed into the front seat, dumping her school bag on the floor. “Thanks Grunkle Stan!”


    Dipper pouted and got into the driver’s side rear seat. Ford sat next to him and pulled his seatbelt on. “It’s alright Dipper. You get shotgun next turn, anyway.”


    Dipper smirked. “Okay,”


    Stanley started the car and adjusted the rearview mirror. “Seatbelts on?”


    “Yes!” The three passengers said simultaneously.


    Stan looked in the mirror at his brother. “Was that really necessary?”


    Ford crossed his arms, a smug grin on his face. “Yep, now would you just drive?”


    Stanley rolled his eyes and put the car into gear before pulling out into the road and heading back towards the kids’ house. Ford leaned back in the seat, one arm around Dipper’s shoulders. Dipper leaned against him. “So,” Dipper said. “What’s the boat like?”


    “It’s not bad, actually,” Stan said. “McGucket helped us with a lot of the construction, so as you can imagine it’s got a lot of tech built into it. He somehow managed to invent and then integrate a filtration system that filters all the crud and salt out of the seawater and then even heats it so we can have a functioning shower and taps and everything. That way we don’t have to make frequent stops at ports to have the water tanks refreshed.”


    “He also hooked up fully functional solar panels so we could have a constant source of power,” Ford added. “He’s found a way to use the panels to charge a main battery in the boat so that we have power during rainy days too. There are several backup batteries on board too.”


    “He even managed to set up a system so that we could have constant phone and internet signal.” Stan said. “The man’s a genius.”


    “So you can, like, watch TV and stuff while you’re on the boat?” Dipper grinned. “That’s awesome.”


    “Well, no, on account of the fact that we don’t have a television on board,” Ford pointed out. “As much as Stanley wanted to have one, it would use far too much power. We each have a laptop, though, and plenty of books.”


    “What! No TV?” Mabel gasped. “How on Earth can you manage without TV?”


    Ford laughed. “That’s what Stanley said, but he’s been just fine so far.”


    “So far,” Stan emphasised. “Trust me, I’m slowly going insane on that boat what with Ford’s incessant rambling.”


    “I do not ramble!” Ford said indignantly. “I have perfectly meaningful conversations with myself!”


    “First sign of madness - talking to yourself.” Stan pointed out. “Face it, Poindexter, you’re losing it.”


    Ford laughed. “Of course I’m insane if I spent the last two months stuck on a boat with you.”


    Stanley glared in the mirror at his brother, only causing Ford to laugh again. “You know I can still throw you overboard in your sleep.”


    “I can swim,” Ford crossed his arms. “Plus, I know you wouldn’t throw me over.”


    “Could we see the boat?” Mabel asked. “It sounds really cool!”


    “Of course! We could take you down after dinner, if you wanted,” Stan offered as he pulled into the driveway. The kids immediately jumped out and ran up to the front door. Ford climbed out, soon followed by his brother. Stanley locked the car and followed the kids up to the front door. Dipper unlocked the door and let them in.


    “Mom! Dad! We’re home!” He called.


    “Why didn’t you tell us Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford would be here?!” Mabel demanded as her mother came out of the kitchen.


    Kristen laughed. “It was meant to be a surprise! They arrived a couple of hours ago.”


    Mabel turned and glared at Stan, smirking slightly. “So you told them you were coming but you didn’t tell us?!”


    Stan put his hands up in defence, grinning. “Hey, you were happy to see us, weren’t you?”


    There was a snort from the kitchen before a small pink blur knocked Stan over and started licking his face. The man laughed and lifted the pig off his chest. “Good to see you too Waddles.”


    Ford knelt down and gave the pig an affection scratch behind the ear. Waddles snorted happily before trotting off into the living room. Ford stood back up straight and looked at Kristen. “So you weren’t particularly against having a pig in the house?”


    “No, he’s surprisingly well trained,” Kristen looked to where the pig was settling down into a small dog bed. “No mess and he barely leaves hair anywhere.”


    Dipper grabbed Ford’s hand and started dragging him towards the stairs. “C’mon Grunkle Ford you gotta see our bedroom!”


    “Hold on Dipper,” Ford laughed. “Let me take my shoes off first.” Dipper waited all of thirty seconds while Ford removed his shoes before dragging him up the stairs again. Mabel dragged Stan upstairs too. The kids showed Stan and Ford all their schoolwork, pictures, projects and everything they’d been doing since they left Gravity Falls. Dipper showed Ford a journal he’d been writing in, similar to Ford’s own journals, and Mabel showed Stan all the new sweaters she’d knitted. She presented both of her grunkles with a new sweater each. Ford’s was a deep navy blue with a golden six-fingered hand embroidered on the front. Stan’s was dark red with his ‘Order of the Holy Mackerel’ logo on the front.


    At about five o’clock, Kristen called up the stairs. “Dinner’s ready!”


    Mabel and Dipper instantly dropped whatever they had been holding and rushed downstairs. Ford and Stan followed them. They sat down at the large dining table in the kitchen just as Kristen was setting down plates of lasagne portions in front of the kids. She gave another plate each to Stan, Ford and her husband before taking her own and sitting down.


    “So,” Kristen started. “What sort of things do you eat on the boat?”


    “Dried and canned things, mostly,” Ford said. “We’ve got a freezer on board, so we can have frozen meat, veg and fish too, but nothing anywhere near as good as this,” he placed a forkful of lasagna in his mouth.


    Stan was wolfing down his food at a rapid pace and nodded. Ford whacked his shoulder. “Stan! Eat properly, not like a pig!”


    Waddles gave an indignant snort, causing the family to chuckle. Stan swallowed. “I’m not that bad!”


    “At least chew your food, don’t inhale it.” Ford rolled his eyes and kept eating. He looked across the table at the kids. “How was school?”


    Dipper seemed to go quiet as Mabel instantly burst into a speech about everything she’d done. “Well, first off in Chemistry we got to make crystals, then in Biology we dissected a kidney, then in Art we got to draw any creature we wanted - I drew Waddles, obviously, and Dipper drew a gnome - then in English we had to write a short story, then in -”


    Ford seemed to zone out to what Mabel was saying, more focused on Dipper. The boy had his hands folded in his lap and his head was down, his dinner sitting on the table forgotten. He kept clenching his eyes shut and wiping them with the back of his hand. Ford cleared his throat and put his fork down. “Dipper? How was your day?”


    Dipper seemed startled by the question, rubbing his eyes furiously. “Oh, it was… it was fine. Kind of boring, really,”


    Ford frowned as the boy kept eating, albeit slowly. He decided not to press the issue any further at the dinner table. Mabel was still excitedly telling her parents all about the story she had written in English. Once they had all finished eating and the kids were excused from the table, Dipper went straight back upstairs. Ford heard him slam the bedroom door shut. Mabel, however, frowned and went into the living room and began watching TV. Waddles trotted after her and sat on the floor in front of the couch.


    Ford rose from the table. “Excuse me a moment,” he said, tucking his chair in and heading upstairs to the kids’ room. He knocked on the door gently. “Dipper?”


    Ford heard sniffling from behind the door, before a quiet “Come in,” was heard. The man turned the doorknob and let himself in. Dipper was sat on his bed cross-legged and wiping his eyes. Ford closed the door quietly behind him and sat beside the boy.


    “Care to tell me what’s wrong?”


    Dipper stayed quiet for a moment, thinking. “.. have you ever felt like no matter what, people are still really mean to you, even if they don’t know you?”


    Ford bit his lip and weighed his options. He could approach this question in several different ways. He could ask why Dipper felt this way, give a quick laugh and assure the boy that he had, or reassure Dipper that he was a perfectly wonderful young man who didn’t deserve the treatment he was getting. He opted for the straightforward answer. “Yes, unfortunately these -” He held up his hands and moved his extra fingers “- meant that, without even getting to know me first, my classmates treated me horribly.”


    Dipper nodded, quietly avoiding Ford’s concerned gaze. He wrung his hands in his lap, biting his lip nervously. “Right… should have guessed that…”


    Ford laid a hand on Dipper’s shoulder gently. “Trouble with kids at school?”


    The boy nodded, tears stinging his eyes again. “Yeah, they keep picking on me, and calling me mean names,”


    “Can I ask what?” Ford asked gently.


    “Dipshit, dipstick, starboy and… uh…” Dipper bit his lip harder, almost enough to draw blood. “Freak,”


    Ford felt an icy chill go down his spine. He was more than used to hearing others call himself a freak, but to learn that Dipper was also on the receiving end of such insults was sickening. His grip on the boy’s shoulder tightened momentarily. He loosened his grip, pulling Dipper closer to sit in his lap. He shuffled back on the bed, sitting up against the wall. “Di - Mason, can I tell you something?”


    Dipper, still unused to hearing his real name from anyone other than his parents, took a moment to answer. “Yeah,”


    Ford swallowed and took a deep breath. “When I was growing up, between the ages of four and eighteen, I had a similar experience to yourself. People took one look at my hands and decided that, as I was different, I should be punished. At every opportunity, I was insulted, shouted at, shoved, punched, kicked, beaten and I was frequently the primary target in food fights. After a while, I’d had enough” He held his left hand out in front of Dipper. “See that scar?”


    Dipper held Ford’s hand in both of his own, looking at the thin scar running across the knuckle of his sixth finger. “Yeah,”


    Ford took another deep breath. “I was fifteen when I did that. I locked myself in the bathroom one evening with a knife and attempted to remove my finger. I thought that maybe, if I got rid of the extra fingers, I could be normal. People would stop picking on me and I could finally get along with my peers.” His hand was shaking slightly, his voice beginning to crack. The memory was still painful. “I was a fool, and if hadn’t been for Stanley, I would have succeeded. He broke the door down and brought me straight to a hospital. He made it absolutely clear to me that removing my extra fingers was not the solution. It took me thirty years drifting through all sorts of interdimensional horror to realise that.”


    Dipper was quiet, his mind processing everything that Ford had said. He hadn’t expected his great uncle to confess something like that. His thumb ran absentmindedly back and forth across Ford’s scar. “I sometimes wear make-up,” he eventually said. “To cover up my birthmark. I use Mom’s foundation. That’s why I always used to wear my pine tree hat, ‘cause it pushed my hair down over my forehead so nobody would see it.” The boy turned around so he was sitting facing Ford. “I don’t like wearing makeup, but it’s the only thing that stops them laughing at me. They laugh at me for wearing makeup, too,”


    Ford sighed quietly, pulling Dipper into a hug. He laid his chin on top of Dipper’s head. “It’s tough,” he said quietly. “Especially when it’s not something like a person’s weight, which can be altered with some effort.”


    He felt Dipper tremble in his arms and felt something wet seeping into the top of his shirt. He stroked Dipper’s back gently. “It’s okay… shh… it’s okay…”


    Dipper laid his cheek against Ford’s chest, listening to his heartbeat. Ford lifted his sleeve to dry the boy’s tears. Ford ran all six of his fingers through his nephew’s hair soothingly. “It’s going to be alright, Mason. I know your classmates’ behaviour may tell you otherwise, but the biggest supporter of you is yourself.” He kissed the top of Dipper’s head gently. “You’ve always got Mabel too. You’ve always got your twin by your side, which is more than can be said for some people.”


    Dipper nodded, wiping his nose on a tissue. “Yeah, I guess. She’s got so many friends, though. I don’t want to be a burden on her.”


    Ford squeezed Dipper’s hand. “I felt the same way when I was at school. My brother had the potential to have a lot of friends, but he constantly spent his time keeping bullies away from me. He could have been very popular if it hadn’t been for the fact that he was protecting me. But let me tell you something: he wouldn’t change his actions for the world. You can ask him - he doesn’t regret any of it. I’m sure Mabel would be more than happy to spend time with you.”


    Dipper smiled. “Thanks, Grunkle Ford.”


    Ford smiled. He turned Dipper round to face him. “Besides, I’m sure you remember some of those curses from the journals. If people continue to give you trouble, have at it.”


    Dipper laughed and hugged his uncle. “Thanks Grunkle Ford, seriously.”


    Ford hugged him back and ruffled his hair. “No problem. Now, what do you say we got and get some ice cream from the parlour down the road?”


    Dipper smiled and got to his feet, pulling Ford up off the bed. “Sure.”

    ——

    Forduary Week 4: Family

    “You’re a terrible father” - Tony Stark x Daughter!reader

    Love the idea. And really, I kinda take any requests :D. Thank you for this one, it’s right here, hope you like it :

    (My masterlist blog here : https://ella-ravenwood-archives.tumblr.com)

    _____________________________________________________________________

    It was the twentieth fucking time you tried to call your father, Anthony Stark, and you fell, once again, on his stupid voice saying that he was “too busy to answer” and that he’d “call back” but “probably not”. Damn that man. 

    In your entire life on this Earth, you were pretty sure he never picked you up on time somewhere. Never, ever. He was just always late, so much that you came up with a trick of actually telling the wrong times for him to be on time. If something was at 6pm, you’d tell him it was at 4. But even with that trick, he still often managed to be fucking late. Which is why most of the time, your stepmother came to get you. But Pepper, wasn’t available today. 

    You smiled, thinking about your “stepmother”. You were so glad she was in your life, being pretty sure that if your dad never had the help, he probably would have lost custody of you before you reach the age of 1…You considered Pepper your real mother. You never met your biological mom as she just dumped you in front of your dad’s house, with a note. One paternity test later, and it was confirmed you were his…You were the first step to his transformation, the first to help him become the man he was today. Better. 

    So you grew up with Pepper around. She filled in brilliantly the mother role, even before she actually started dating your father (you remember the day you finally convinced him to just tell her his feelings, and smiled).

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    [Tear You Apart] • 1

    Eros 

    [Summary: A married Negan takes an interest in his neighbors young daughter]

    Pre-Apocalypse Negan x Anastasia 

    A/N: *OC is of legal age/23* (Her name is pronounced like Ana-stah-seya not ana-stay-sia). I was inspired by a lot of the themed one shots and wanted to try doing one based on the Types of Love! It’s not the literal definition of each type of love, but more based on their broad meaning. Eros: is an erotic or sexual type of love –  SOO I know said I’d post my Jason chapter before this, but I am having such a struggle trying to finish it up & this was already done – will get Jason posted soon promise! The first few parts are super smutty, enjoy :D

    Warnings: 18+, cheating, uhh swearing? the fact that it’s Negan smut? lol please respect the age tag **


    (gif by @mypapawinchester)


    The clear, blue sky enticed the people living in this small town. They all desired to dip into the cool atmosphere just as long as they were away from under the ruthless fist of the unforgiving sun. It’s been like this for a week now. Children ran around, jumping through sprinklers while their laughs echoed across the neighborhood. Women walked around in their sun hats covering their delicate skin with porcelain cream to shield their beauty from the heat’s grasp. The men hid away safely inside, lazily relaxing on their leather recliners while they sat in the comfort of their cool living room caves.

    To be indoors was all Negan could think about as he sat outside replacing old parts of his motorcycle. He didn’t know that the weather would open up the ninth circle of hell when he decided to fix up his Harley. “Sweetie” he looked up to find Lucille walking over to him, holding a silver tray in her hands, wearing her favorite pale blue sundress which emphasized her glowing face. “I brought you some lemonade” she said, planting a kiss on his cheek.

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    How to Put on a Wig and Not Want to Die

    Heyo!

    I am here today to show you how to put on a wig and, well, not want to stab yourself in the eye afterwards. The thing with wigs, is they’re essentially like everything else in cosplay: in order to finish with a good result, you need to start with a good beginning. So, here we go.

    First things first, you need your supplies:

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    Imagine...Enjoying Captain America

    Originally posted by demondetoxmanual

    Request: Can you write a dean×reader where reader is really into like captain america and the winter soldier and dean keeps teasing her that she loves them more than him and just fluff?

    Pairing: Dean x reader


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    PENETRATORS SQUAD IMAGINE (pt 7)

    Imagine being the first and only girl in the Penetrator Russ bus.

    Author’s note: Here you have it, angels. As usual, a big thank you to Alyssa, @imyourliquor-youremypoison, for being the best beta writer in the world. I don’t even know what to say so, good reading, and if you feel like it, just give me a little feedback so I won’t freak out thinking you guys hated it hahahahah

    Part 1.

    Part 6.

    Masterlist ❁

    -

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    Rye & Lies Pt. 1

    Originally posted by gotjimin

    Part 2

    Pairing: Jung Hoseok x Reader
    Rating: Explicit
    Genre: Angst & Smut
    Word count: 3,592

    Summary: You don’t know his name and he doesn’t know yours but in this moment you could care less. He was gorgeous and you were desperate to be touched.

    A/N: Let’s not talk about the title, okay. I’m not good with titles.
    SURPRISE ! Here’s a Hoseok smut that no one asked for except for me!! Because that man is making me feel some type of way even more so than usual. 


    He believed you didn’t know.

    Thought he was sly and a good liar. That you were oblivious and naïve to everything that was happening behind your back.

    But you knew.

    You could smell her on the collar of his dress shirts when he’d draw you into his chest. Taste the flavour of her lipstick that lingered on his lips.

    He hid a smile full of secrets behind the rim of his coffee cup when he replayed the way her body felt beneath his fingers. Thoughts of her occupied his mind from morning to night and with each new memory of her; ones of you faded away.  

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    Fast Firsts and Sloppy Seconds  (a Manorian/Rowaelin AU)

    NOTE: This is a piece very near and dear to my heart!! Welcome to my very first TOG fic, and second fic overall! This is kind of a celebration of hitting 100 followers, and kind of a celebration of ACOWAR, but first and foremost, this is a gift for my girl @highlady-casandra. You’re pretty cool, I guess and I love you so so much but you already knew that <3 but also I really hope you’re sleeping right now or we’ll have to fight  Second, it goes to to my fellow Revolutionaries,  @miladyaelin  @snaps7@jxmessjrjuspottcr @throneofstars @fictionalcharactersaremyreality, y’all are the true heroes ;) Third, for @propshophannah, my favorite SJM blog and one of my favorite writers for this fandom, who is a hero in her own right for a million reasons. Thanks for existing. Last but not least, this one’s this is for all of you guys reading it!! I hope you enjoy, and I hope I didn’t butcher them too bad! ( @meabhd You’re a queen and amazing artist and I hope I didn’t butcher your accent/country too much :/ ) Without further ado, here we go!


    Dorian and Aelin burst into the small lively Irish pub. Well, “burst” was kind of a strong word, considering how bogged down they were by their huge backpacks. The two friends had decided to travel across Europe after their college graduation. It was supposed to be a group of them, but they’d lost Lys and Aedion back in Italy. Chaol was supposed to meet them in Dublin – but that was if they ever made it there. The huge storm had come out of nowhere, and their flight had been redirected. Aelin had insisted they try to catch a ferry to continue on to Dublin – but when the huge waves had almost flipped over the boat, she conceded, and they were dropped off on the beach in some other part of Ireland. Trudging up the long hill, they finally came to the bustling pub – the only awake part of the small sea town. Gasping for breath and dripping wet, they glanced around for an empty table in the crowded bar, and spotted a couple getting up in the corner. They quickly grabbed the table before anyone else had a chance, pulling the massive weights off of their backs and flopping into the hard wooden chairs.

    They could feel the heat of the packed pub seeping into their bodies. Groups of people danced around, producing more and more warmth as they jumped and whirled to the tune of the lively reel. The band in the corner looked like they’d been playing for a while, empty beer bottles scattered around their feet as they played.

    They took a few minutes to settle down – wringing the water out of their soaked shirts. Aelin was running a hand through her long blonde hair, trying to untangle the wet tresses, when Dorian shook his head at her like a dog, spraying water everywhere. It was at this moment that the waitress walked over, a hand on her hip and a smirk on her face as she watched Aelin smack him repeatedly.

    She stopped quickly when she noticed the gorgeous girl. A tray was balanced against her hip, and she had a long, messy white braid over one shoulder, along with a wicked grin on her bright red lips. “Name’s Manon,” she drawled, her Irish accent washing over them. “What can I get you lot?”

    Dorian cleared his throat, quickly running a hand through his hair in an effort to look presentable. He began to stumble over his words as his eyes ran over her lithe, muscular body. “I – uh – we – do you have any, um, menus?”

    She snorted, raising an eyebrow at the boy. No – man. He was in his early twenties at least. Her eyes quickly flashed to his flexing muscles as he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. He was broad, tall, and all around gorgeous. His bright blue eyes avoided hers as she watched him squirm under her golden gaze. “Aye, o’ course lad, would you like some gold rimmed plates, too? What d’you think this is? A palace, princeling?” She rolled her eyes, scowling at the gorgeous man. Why was it always the pretty ones that were like this?

    “I’ll take a Guiness –”Aelin’s cool voice cut in, as Dorian struggled to regain his composure. “And some food. We’re both starving.”

    “Aye, and soaked through the bone,” Manon mumbled, glancing at their wet clothes. She let out a deep sigh as she crossed her impossibly long legs. “I’ll see what the boys can dig up – kitchen’s supposed to close any minute now.”

    The full weight of her golden gaze turned back to Dorian, a smirk on her face as she watched him startle under the attention. “Anything else I can get you, princeling?”

    He cleared his throat and narrowed his stormy blue eyes as he forced a smirk on his face. “A double shot of whiskey, please.” He winked at her then, feeling the bravery re-enter his voice. “Need something to help warm me up.”

    “Aye,” she smirked, “and some of that Irish courage will do you good, as well.”

    With that, she turned, making her way back to the bar. He couldn’t help but stare at her enticing hips as they moved from side to side. Just like she’d wanted him to.

    He was cute, this American boy. Kind of ridiculous, but cute.

    Soon enough she was back with their drinks, shot Dorian some heated looks, and was off again. He wasn’t usually a one night stand kind of guy, in most situations. But for her? For her he’d make an exception. Miles of long legs were barely covered by a pair of ripped jean shorts. She had on a loose red t-shirt, further accenting her bright red lips. Yet, even in the simple outfit, she looked like a queen. His queen.

    Aelin rolled her eyes watching Dorian eye-fuck the white-haired beauty. Aelin thought she was kind of a bitch, but Dorian never listened to her opinions on his conquests. He was usually more of a relationship guy, but she could tell that this time he just didn’t care. And she wasn’t drunk enough to put up with his shenanigans.

    With a heavy sigh, she stood up from her seat to get another drink. Dorian barely paid her any attention as his eyes followed the waitress, watching her float from table to table, laughing heartily as she flirted with everyone, lighting up the room with her smile.


    Aelin stepped up to the bar, the barkeep nowhere to be found. She eyed the empty seat in the corner and decided to take it right as she noticed someone else about to make a move. It’s not like Dorian was much better company. She ran a hand through her long blonde hair, still wet from the rain. She’d opted to keep her soaked sweatshirt on, wearing nothing but a small tank top underneath. But between the grossly wet fabric against her skin and the heat of the pub, she was leaning closer and closer to taking the damn thing off. Finally, she gave in, ripping off the soaking wet hoodie. And of course, this was the moment the barkeep chose to arrive.

    Rowan Blackthorn couldn’t help but watch, shell-shocked, as the blonde beauty pulled the dark sweatshirt off of her curvy torso. As if the barely-there lace tank top wasn’t bad enough, it slowly slipped up her body as she struggled with the sweatshirt. And there, in that moment, he knew he was absolutely fucked. He cleared his throat as he stepped up across from her, averting his eyes.

    “What can I get you, lass?” His voice was a soft sensual rumble, but she couldn’t really properly enjoy it in her struggle.

    “Right now,” she grunted, “a hand would be nice.” He winced at the fact that he was completely and totally about to begin his descent into hell, and reached over to pull the girl’s sweatshirt off.

    She was suddenly greeted by six feet and four inches of pure muscle. She wasn’t exactly short, but the bartender towered over her. His short white hair was cut close to his head. Gaelic tattoos trailed down half of his face and one of his arms,clearly showing off his heritage. His bright green eyes caught her gaze, and she found herself unable to look away. “Um, thanks,” she mumbled, reaching to grab the sweatshirt that he was holding out to her.

    They stood there then, just like that, watching each other. He took in her wet blonde hair that fell just to her shoulders, and her tight light pink tank top. At least it wasn’t see-through. Then he would have definitely lost it.

    “Y’know,” she teased, trying to lighten the mood, “normally I don’t let guys undress me until after I’ve learned their name.”

    He snorted at that. “Is that all it takes with you, then?” Shit. He couldn’t stop himself. The words were already out, but he’d immediately regretted them. Well, that was that, he supposed.

    She narrowed her eyes at the man. As pretty as he might be, she wouldn’t put up with any bullshit he was presenting her with. “Give me another Guiness,” she snapped. He raised an eyebrow before turning around to grab it without another word. He pulled the cap of the beer straight off with his hands, the asshole. The muscles in his arms tensed and relieved as he accomplished it, and Aelin just about died.

    It was in this moment that Manon sauntered over, two plates in hand. “Are you goin’ back t’yer boyfriend there, or are you stayin’ over here?”

    “He’s not my boyfriend,” she scowled, reaching out a hand for one of the two plates. “On a good day he’s my friend. Right now though, he’s my pain in the ass. So yeah, I’ll eat over here.” Manon smirked as Aelin finally accepted the Guiness Rowan had been holding out.

    She walked away, an extra bounce in her step as she once again made her way to Dorian. Aelin rolled her eyes at the predatory smirk that was growing on her friend’s face. It looked like he’d found his footing fast enough. She turned back to her beer, and the asshole of a bartender.

    He’d begun to clean a glass, obviously trying to look anywhere but at her. She scoffed, rolling her eyes, and turning her attention to her meal.

    Rowan was a fucking idiot. Yeah, Rowan. Great idea. Get the gorgeous girl to like you by insulting her. That always works. Then again, he was sort of out of practice. And more than that, she was only here for, what, a day? Two maximum? He was willing to bet the storm had rolled her in, and she’d be leaving as soon as it was over. Slowly shaking his head, he sighed. Rowan didn’t have time for more attachments to beautiful women who were just going to leave. So maybe being an asshole was a good idea.

    Except then he heard the moan slip out of her mouth. And every logical thought left his head as his entire body stiffened at the sound.

    “God,” she sighed, “who the hell is your cook, and can I marry him?”

    Rowan cleared his throat, straining to talk as her husky voice just played over and over in his head.

    Shit.

    He was in such deep, unending shit.

    “We have two cooks,” he grumbled, trying to prevent his voice from cracking as he watched her lick her fingers, unable to look away.

    His words ran away from him as he watched her dip her soda bread in the Irish Stew and take a large bite, letting out another long, low moan. “Please tell me whichever one made this stew is single.”

    A low growl built in his throat, the sight much too sensual to bear. That moan. However good that stew was, it couldn’t taste nearly as delicious as he was sure she did. What he wouldn’t give to have her thighs around his head, how she would moan then –

    He grit his teeth, shook his head, and forced himself to look away, discretely adjusting his pants as he once again tried and failed to regain his composure. At the sound of bickering voices coming up behind him, Rowan let out a small sigh of relief. Saved by the devils.

    “Fenrys, Connal!” He called behind him, welcoming the distraction. And then he remembered what she was wearing. And that he’d been an asshole. And that she had wanted to marry one of the two idiots. And suddenly regretted everything. “You have an admirer,” he ground out. He hesitated, cautiously glancing at Aelin once again as she slowly enjoyed the bread, her eyes closed and a soft smile on her face. He began to smile as well, and then stopped, scowling instead. Remember. Lyria. With that thought in his head, he stormed down the walkway behind bar to go pour some other drinks.


    Aelin opened her eyes at the sound of the barkeep stomping away. Her eyes were quickly drawn to the tightness of his pants against what she assumed was his equally tight ass. Dear god. She quickly looked away, chastising herself. She shouldn’t pine after what she knew she couldn’t have.  She didn’t even know his name.

    It was then that she found the twins stepping up to her behind the bar. Both were well-built, with gorgeous dark eyes, and deep tans to their skin. They seemed older than the barkeep. The one on the left was easily the most beautiful man she’d seen in her life. He had long golden hair and a mischievous grin on his lips, easily accompanying his onyx eyes that held her favorite kind of sinful promises. The other was just as beautiful, though with long dark hair, and thoughtful dark eyes. He seemed calmer – more melancholy in a way. The dark to the other’s light. Though for some reason, neither could compare to the bartending buzzard.

    She took a sip of her beer and grinned at the twins who were eyeing her just the same. The blond was unashamedly appreciating her figure under the tank top, offering her a wolfish grin, hinting that cooking wasn’t the only thing he was good at doing with his hands. Meanwhile the dark-haired twin simply stepped back, leaning against the bar and rolling his eyes at his brother’s behavior.

    “Name’s Fenrys,” the blond purred, holding out a large hand for her to shake. She took it slowly, feeling the calluses in his palm as her eyes met the heat in his.

    “Aelin.” She smiled coolly, dropping his hand and returning to the stew, feigning aloofness. She could eat politely when she wanted to. And now that the beautiful barkeep wasn’t around, she had no reason not to. She almost laughed thinking back to his attempts at discretely readjusting his pants. As though his lust for her wasn’t entirely obvious. I hope you hate every minute of it, she thought, glaring at his gorgeous broad back.

    “So,” Fenrys drawled, dragging her attention back to him. “Is our dear cousin Rowan treating you well? Irish hospitality and all that?”

    Rowan. Gorgeous name for a gorgeous man. Her eyes followed him as he poured out shots for a group of boys who looked just barely legal. Then she dragged them back to Fenrys, and lifted one shoulder in a lazy shrug, her face entirely blank. “Well enough, I suppose.” She took another small bite of the stew, even though all she really wanted was to devour it.

    “You know,” Fenrys murmured, his fingers lightly playing with the tips of hers, “I could certainly treat you very well, if you’d let me.”

    She drew her hand away from his and placed it under her chin, raising a single eyebrow at his forwardness.

    “Since I’m not a dog, I doubt you’ll be surprised to hear I don’t respond well to treats. Though since I’m not entirely certain you’re not a dog, unless you’d like me to rip off your balls so you can play fetch, I suggest you leave me alone.”

    Connall barked out a laugh as Fenrys staggered back, an incredulous look on his face. A surprised laugh escaped his lips as he stepped away, reaching for the whiskey and mumbling to himself about crazy American women.

    It was at this moment that Rowan walked back over, an aggravated look on his face. He should’ve been relieved that she’d probably already agreed to sleep with Fenrys, but for whatever reason, all he felt was a quiet stifling rage. His shoulder rammed into his cousin’s as he passed by him, stepping up next to Connall.

    “Congratulations,” Connall grinned at her, “it’s not often a lass sends my brother off with his tail between his legs.” The two chuckled at the joke between them, Aelin finally smiling again as Rowan stood there, confused.

    “What happened to your betrothed?” He bit out, defensive, not allowing himself to hope for what was too good to be true.

    Aeliln’s smile turned sensual as her eyes once again roamed over his muscular frame. The heat in them almost burned him as they finally met his once again. “Turns out he wasn’t my type. Too easy.” A smirk spread on her lips as Rowan flinched. Connall chuckled again and began to walk away, clapping Rowan on the shoulder. “This one’s all yours, cousin. Good luck.” He winked at him and continued into the kitchen, finally ready to clean up for the night.

    She took a few more bites of her stew, and Rowan went back to methodically cleaning his bar.

    He wished he could say he’d forgotten she was there. But he hadn’t. Even with his back turned to her, he could feel her behind him, burning him with her gaze, and then it was almost as if her moans were ringing in his ears again. With a low groan, he wiped down the bar harder, angrily scrubbing.

    A mischievous grin stretched across her lips, entirely aware of the affect she had on him. He’s going to sleep with me tonight, and he’s going to like it. And then we’ll see who’s the easy one. She ignored the small voice in her head that pointed out the fact that she would no doubt more than like it as well.

    “So, Rowan,” she purred, placing both elbows on the bar and leaning her chin on her intertwined fingers, “tell me about yourself.”

    Part 2

    You’re Dumber Than I Thought (Barnes/Rogers x reader)

    Request:  Can I request a story where Bucky, Steve, and the reader are all in a poly relationship and the reader and Steve are always doing reckless shit and Bucky is 1000% done because they could both get really hurt and they are doing this for stupid reasons.

    Being in a relationship with Bucky Barnes was a challenge to say the least; he had been through more than most people could survive in his lifetime, and the nightmares and mood swings showed that often enough, but that wasn’t what brought you the most difficulty. It was being in a relationship together with Steve Rogers that would give you the most upheaval in your lives together.  Of any two men in the world to love at the same time, these two may have been the craziest choices that you could make.

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    21. Staying cool during a heatwave (from this list)

    It was well past thirty degrees out before Ladybug and Chat Noir finally stopped for a break in their weekly patrol.

    “So, can we get an akuma that, like, turns off the sun or something next?” Chat groaned where he was sprawled out on the shady, lukewarm concrete under the rooftop overhang they’d discovered together. “Just for a day. One day.”

    “But then we’d have to fight in the dark,” Ladybug mumbled back, trying not to whine as she leaned (melted) against the wall by his feet. “I hate fighting in the dark.”

    Her eyes felt dry when she blinked and her tongue felt cool when she licked her lips and it was really much too hot out to be doing anything that didn’t involve copious amounts of cold water, but she and Chat had a duty to the city, so patrol they would, regardless of the danger of heatstroke.

    Chat sighed gustily and flopped a hand in her general direction. “Imagine I just said something really great about holding your hand. It’s too hot to think up lines.”

    Ladybug laughed through her groan despite herself. “It’s too hot for holding hands, too.”

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    MariChat May Day 13: SIN

    I took some liberty with this prompt, as well. I’m trying to keep this to a single, continuous story arc, and I wasn’t ready for them to get naughty just yet. So, you’ll just have to make do with LUST rather than SMUT this time.

    This is for @siderealsandman. You set the sin bar high, my friend. If anyone wants to read incredibly well written sin, go check out Sandman’s AO3.

    ****************

    Marinette checked her reflection in her mirror for the umpteenth time, because she was too antsy to sit still. Which was silly. She didn’t even know that he would be coming over. She swung away from the mirror with a groan, and began pacing. They hadn’t made any plans, but he had made a habit of dropping by on Friday evenings. He didn’t always come, but he did whenever he could.

    And since she’d finished her Chat Noir outfit earlier in the week, she’d decided to go ahead and put it on, to surprise him with the complete look. After his reaction to the choker, she was quite looking forward to seeing his reaction to all of it. But what if he didn’t show tonight? What if he showed, but he thought it was ridiculous? What if he thought it was slutty?

    She stopped. Why was she freaking out over what Chat Noir thought of this outfit? Sure, a bit of anticipation and even nerves made sense. She did want him to like them, after all. But this level of anxiety was over the top, even for her. It was just Chat Noir, and regardless of what Alya thought, they weren’t dating. It wasn’t like that for them, it wasn’t anything like she was waiting for Adrien to show up.

    “Get a hold of yourself, girl,” she muttered. She resolutely pulled a new library book from her desk, and sat on her chaise to read. Either he would stop by, or he wouldn’t. She opened the book to the first page, and set about getting herself engrossed in the story.

    It was late when Adrien was finally released from that stupid black tie affair with his dad. It had been boring and superficial and excruciatingly long, just as those events always were, but this one was worse because it fell on a Friday night. It had somehow become routine to go visit Marinette on Fridays, and now, he couldn’t stand to miss one. So, even though it was probably already too late, he called for his transformation as soon as he was sure that Nathalie wouldn’t be bothering him any more for the night.

    The journey across the rooftops was freeing, as it always was, and he’d managed to lose some of the tension from that interminable dinner by the time he reached her balcony. Her lights were still on, which was always a good sign. He peered in through her skylight, and saw that she was curled up under a blanket on the chaise, with a book. He tapped on the glass to get her attention, and waved. Her face lit up when she saw him, and when she waved him in, he wasted no time in joining her.

    “I’d given up on you coming over today, Chaton,” she said as he came through the opening in her ceiling.

    “Eh, I got tied up as my civilian self.” He pulled the trap door closed behind himself, and began to climb down from her bed. “I almost didn’t come over, as late as it is. And had your light been off, I’d have turned back.”

    “Well then, I’m glad I left my light on.” She pushed the blanket back to stand, then turned to set her book down, and Chat realized that she was wearing something other than her customary pink.

    She was wearing black.

    No, she was wearing black and green.

    His colors. She was dressed entirely in his colors, and he quite suddenly forgot how to breathe. It must be the outfit that she’d designed from her sketches of him. She’d elected to stay surprisingly close to the design of his suit, and the sight of Marinette’s trim form clad in something very much like his suit was wreaking havoc with his equilibrium.

    She’d made herself a pair of black skinny jeans, but rather than using black thread and a traditional cut for pants, she had cut these to echo the lines of his suit and stitched them with heavy green thread. The result was striking, to say the least. When she’d bent to put down her book, he’d gotten a very good look at the horizontal line across her derriere, as well as the twin lines that traveled down the backs of her legs, making them appear even longer than they were. The waist band sat at her hips, like the belt that circled his own body, and was likewise stitched in the heavy green thread.

    By this time she’d turned to face him, and he saw that while her top also echoed the lines of his suit, she’d taken greater creative license with it. It was not made of denim, like the pants, but of matte satin, and was trimmed all the way around in piping of the same green as the thread. In some ways, it resembled a cheongsam, though she’d taken a great deal of liberty with that, as well. She’d clearly modeled the shape of the cap sleeves on the lines on his shoulders, so that they came to gently rounded points. In place of the high neckline, she wore her bell collar necklace above a low “V” neckline that would have shown cleavage on a bustier woman. The green line continued straight down the middle of the shirt to the hem, and was further embellished by two matching green frog closures.

    She’d found a way to combine the style elements of his suit with elements from her own heritage, and the over-all effect was stunning, and…provocative. He moistened suddenly dry lips with his tongue, and allowed his gaze to rove over her again.

    “Um, Chat? I-is it ok?”

    He jerked his eyes to her face, finally aware that he had been staring, and saw that she was watching him anxiously. “Guh, Marinette, you look—er, I mean, this is—this is incredible! And—are you wearing chopsticks in your hair?”

    “I am!” She turned to show him her hair, which she’d coiled into a bun and secured with a pair of shiny black chopsticks, which were embellished at the ends with tiny green paw prints. “So, you like it?”

    “Like it?” He stepped closer to her, and touched a claw to the paw print on one of the chopsticks with something nearing awe. Not only had she dressed herself in his colors from head to toe, but she had made every last bit of it herself. She’d all but marked herself as his. “I fucking love it,” he breathed.

    She whirled to face him, grinning happily, and he found himself staring down into her blue, blue eyes, which were presently very, very close to his face. His gaze dropped from her eyes to her lips without consulting him first, and in that moment, he found himself faced with a very intense desire to sweep his hand over her curves, pull her against him, and press his lips to hers. He watched in fascination as her grin faded, and her pink tongue darted out to moisten her lips before tugging the lower one in between her teeth. His breath caught, and he found himself swaying toward her.

    “Ch-Chat,” she whispered, and he didn’t know if it was a question or an invitation or a rejection, but it was enough to bring his brain back online.

    He straightened abruptly, and took several hasty steps back, aware that his pants were feeling uncomfortably tight. What in the hell? Where had all of that come from? She was watching him, wide-eyed, with something like disappointment on her face. He mentally kicked himself, hoping that she wouldn’t notice his uh, problem. Why did he have to go and make it awkward between them? He cleared his throat, uncomfortably aware that he was probably blushing enough for it to show around his mask. “S-sorry about that. I, um, ahem, I love it. You did a great job.”

    She opened her mouth to speak, apparently thought better of whatever she was going to say, and closed it again. She looked down, tugged at the hem of her shirt nervously, and one half of it pulled briefly away from the other, revealing a flash of the skin beneath.

    The shirt didn’t close all the way down, he realized. Those frogs weren’t just decorative; they were the only things holding the silly thing closed. He leaned heavily against the ladder behind him, feeling poleaxed all over again.

    “Thanks,” she finally said, with a small smile.

    He blinked, an idea forming in his mind. “Hey, uh, Princess?”

    “Yeah?”

    “Would you mind if I took a couple of pictures?” Crap, was that weird? He really hoped she didn’t think it was weird.

    Her smile broadened, and it reached her eyes again. “Not at all.”

    He tugged his baton from behind his back, and brought up the screen. After tapping the pad for the camera, he snapped a couple with her facing him, and lowered it again uncertainly. “Could you, uh…”

    “Turn around? Sure.”

    She smiled again, and turned away from him so that he could photograph the back. She had her head turned to the side, so he was able to capture her face in profile. Had she always been so…sexy? He gulped, and hoped that she couldn’t hear. “Perfect. Thanks, Princess.”

    “Of course!” She moved to the desk, then, and picked up her phone. “Would you mind taking a selfie with me? I don’t have any pictures of us together…”

    “Only if you promise to give me a copy.”

    “You know I will, Chaton.” She brought up the camera on her phone, and moved to stand beside him, but the angle was weird.

    “Here.” He took the phone from her hands, and stood behind and just to the side of her, and held his arm out to take the picture. He pretended not to notice that her face was right next to his, or that only a few centimeters separated their bodies. He took a few pictures before straightening and taking another step away from her.

    He was discovering that her proximity was inversely proportional to his ability to think. He managed to say goodnight without embarrassing himself, and then made his escape. When he was safely several houses over, he stopped and looked pensively back toward her balcony.

    They’d grown close over recent months, and he considered her one of his dearest friends. If he had found himself attracted to her, he’d chalked it up to the fact that she was a pretty girl and he was a normal 17 year old guy. He’d never thought beyond that, because he’d been so focused on pursuing Ladybug. It hadn’t occurred to him that he might develop feelings for someone else, and if anyone had asked him yesterday if there was something between him and Marinette, he’d have scoffed.

    Now? He wasn’t so sure any more. She’d somehow left him aching without ever touching him, so whatever else he felt for her, he definitely desired her. He adjusted himself in his pants with a sigh, and continued on his way.

    **********************

    Anyone want to guess what he’s going to be doing when he gets home?

    Paranormal Activity

    Summary: Tony wants to watch Paranormal Activity. What could possibly go wrong?

    Pairing: Bucky x Reader

    Warnings: Language

    A/N: My wifi is still wacky, plus my daughter is sick today, so I’ve mostly just been taking care of her.

    Originally posted by vibraniumdoll

    When Steve brought Bucky to the tower for the first time since the events of the Sokovia Accords, everything was a little awkward for a while. Everyone on Team Iron Man was a little on edge around him, after all, it was kinda his fault everything fell apart. Not intentionally of course, no one ASKS to be used as an assassin for some crazy world domination group. He was unfortunate enough to be that person, however. I am new around here, Tony heard about me after he found Peter and since he was down several members of the avengers, he hunted me down. I agreed, and slowly but surely, the original members of the Avengers have made their way back home. With a few handshakes, pats on the back and some apologies, everything seems to be going smooth. When Bucky shows up, everyone tenses up. It’s like they tread softly around him, afraid he’ll revert back into the winter soldier, I assume. I don’t want to be that way though, so I’ve done my damndest to NOT be that person.

    -

    It’s early morning, around 5AM. I’m never up this early, but for some reason, sleep just didn’t come to me easy last night, so I figured might as well get up. Padding into the kitchen, I see Cap, Birdman, and…Bucky…I don’t have a nickname for him yet. He can’t be Tinman, no because that’s Tony! They’re all in their running attire. Steve in that grey under armor shirt, and running shorts. Sam in a black long sleeve shirt and shorts. Bucky..he’s in a black tank top, showcasing his arm. I’m sure he only does that in the early morning, when no one else is around, along with black sweats.

    Me? I’m in my night shirt that goes to my knees, and some shorts. I haven’t even brushed my hair yet. Sam starts laughing, like hands on his knees because he can’t support himself standing anymore.

    “Oh man, (Y/N)! You look like hell!” I glare at him, flipping him the bird, no pun intended.

    “Fuck off, Wilson.” Steve chokes on his water, then wipes his chin.

    “Language, (L/N).” I glare at Steve now.

    “Fuck off, Rogers.” Bucky chuckles, I don’t know if it’s from my attitude, or Steve’s reaction.

    “What? Not gonna tell Barnes to fuck off too?” Sam pokes my side, like he’s trying to get a rise outta me.

    “No, why would I? He hasn’t said anything to piss me off yet.” Sam rolls his eyes.

    “How? His entire presence pisses me off.” He side smirks at Barnes. He’s just playing, kinda, but it’ll get to Bucky either way.

    “Fuck off, Wilson.” Bucky has quite the mouth on him too. I could get used to hi dirty talking ways. I turn on my heel to look at Steve. He’s leaning against the counter with his head in his hands.

    “What? Not gonna tell Barnes to watch his language too?” He looks up at me out of the corner of his eye, then shakes his head. Bucky comes to stand next to me, I can feel the cold from his metal arm radiating off of him.

    “No, he know’s I’d kick his ass if he tried.” I laugh, the first laugh of the day, and it didn’t even sound forced.

    “Whatever, jerk. Are you guys coming or not? I’ve ran by myself in the morning, I can do it again” Steve is out the door with Sam, leaving Buck behind. Bucky turns to look at me before going out the door.

    “You gonna be joining us, doll?” He speaks to me while walking backwards. Is it bad I find myself wishing he’d run into something?

    “Are you kidding? There’s no way, I’m still in my pajamas.” He chuckles, walking out the door. That was my first actual conversation with the ex Winter Soldier.

    -

    Ever since then I think Bucky came to the conclusion that I’m not afraid of him, and kinda follows me around like a puppy, but I’m not complaining.

    It’s movie night at the Tower, we hold these every week or so, depending on missions. I usually wear my pajamas these gatherings, so I’m trying to decide if I should go long sleeves or short.

    “Hey Buck, should I go short sleeve or long sleeve?” I peak my head out of my bathroom, trying to get his attention. He’s sprawled out across my bed, reading some book or something.

    He sits up, running his metal hand through his hair. God this man is beautiful. I can’t help but want him so much, in every way possible.

    “I don’t care doll, it’s not like we’re going anywhere, just be comfortable.” I nod, putting on my long sleeved, open back grey pajama set with black shorts, and throwing my hair into a high ponytail. When I leave the bathroom, Buck is standing by the door.

    “Ready, doll?” I smile, running up to him.

    “Yup! Hey, you wouldn’t happen to know what movie is playing do you?”

    “Yeah, Paranormal Activity.” I freeze. Oh no. I hate paranormal movies.

    He raises his eyebrow, turning around to look at me, still frozen in place.

    “Why? What’s wrong with it?” I sigh.

    “I don’t know, I hate movies about ghosts…I hate them.” He chuckles.

    “A couple weeks ago we watched Friday the 13th and you had no problems there.” He walks up to stand next to me, wrapping his metal arm around my waist, pulling me towards the theatre room.

    “I know, I have no problem watching movies where there’s a physical threat, I don’t however like watching movies where you can’t see your attacker, you can’t defend yourself against it, there’s no way to protect yourself against a demon. I hate movies like that…” He chuckles, his arm still around my waist.

    “Don’t worry doll, I’ll keep you safe.” I roll my eyes, thinking about saying something snarky, but I really do want him to stay by my side. What? Everyone has an irrational fear, this one just happens to be mind, don’t make fun of me!

    Halfway through the movie, and I’m already a terrified mess. Knees up to my chest in the chair, face buried in the pillow perched on my knees. Bucky seems to be more interested in me, having a panic attack, than the movie.

    “You alright, doll?” I jump, accidently kicking Nat’s chair, in front of me. She turns around, rubbing the back of her head.

    “Didn’t realize (Y/N) was such a scaredy cat.” The blush that heats up my face, must have been a sight, so I kick the back of her seat again.

    “Fuck off, Romanoff.” She laughs and rolls her eyes.

    “Bucky! Tell her to fuck off in Russian for me!” He looks towards Nat, smirking,

    “Отъебись.” I laugh, sticking my tongue out at her. She rolls her eyes, turning her attention back to the movie. For the next 30 minutes or so, I have the pillow up and over my eyes, peeking every once in awhile.

    At the end of the movie, when the main character runs towards the camera with demon teeth happens, I shout and practically jump into Bucky’s arms. He laughs, putting his arms around me. Everyone laughs, seems I’m the only one here that doesn’t like paranormal movies.

    “So, I vote to watch more ghost movies in the future.” Tony stands up, smirking in my direction.

    “Shut up, Tony. I don’t think so.” He laughs, grabbing his phone and leaving the theatre room. Bucky stands up, taking me with him in his arms.

    “Don’t worry doll, I’ll protect you from the demons.” I roll my eyes as he carries me to my room.

    -

    Sitting on my bed, I find myself looking around every corner. It’s 2:30 in the morning and I have all my lights on. Even the slightest sound freaks me out. Deciding I don’t want to be alone I text the only person I know for sure will be awake at this time.

    “Buck? Are you awake?” He responds almost immediately.

    “Yeah doll. Can’t sleep? Dreams of demons getting to you?” I roll my eyes in annoyance.

    “Отъебись, Barnes. I went all the way to google translate to figure out how to say that.”

    I can almost hear the laugh I know erupted from his throat.

    “Mmm, alright ya got me. What can I do for you, doll?”

    “I don’t want to be alone….can you come up to my room? And please don’t try to scare me…I don’t think my heart could take it.” It takes him a few minutes to respond, maybe getting dressed.

    “On my way, doll.” Bucky is only down the hall, so it shouldn’t take him a couple seconds to get here. I stand up when I hear the door open, running out to greet him. When I see him, he’s in sweats and a black long sleeve shirt. He smiles at me, he looks just as tired as I’m sure I do.

    “Why weren’t you asleep, Bucky?” He chuckles, coming up to me, putting his flesh arm around my waist.

    “I knew you’d probably text me…I wanted to be awake when you did.” My face heats up.

    “Y-You were waiting for me?” He smiles, his bloodshot eyes are soft, and gentle.

    “Yeah..is that weird?” I smile, running to him and jumping into his arms, pressing my lips to his. Wrapping my arms around his neck, and he puts his hands on my waist as he kisses me back, running his fingers along my waist. When I pull away, his eyes are blown wide, and he licks his lips.

    “I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time…” I find myself admitting to him.

    “I-I’m glad you did. But, I’m so tired..” I guide him to my bed, helping him under the covers.

    “As long as we can cuddle..” He chuckles, resting his head on my breast, before sleep takes him. I too follow soon, all fear of nightmares plaguing me, gone.

    PERMANENT TAG LIST: @marvel-fanfiction, @cassandras-musings, @sammnipple, @iamthemaskhewears, @fairlylocalfairies, @badassbaker, @topkayle, @psychicwitchphilosopher, @gallifreyansass

    [fic] darling so it goes

    he tian x mo guan shan (1st half); jian yi x zhengxi (2nd half)

    tags/notes: fluff, swearing, light altercation in the form of a head cuff, title from here, ‘SAR’ is a military term for ‘search-and-rescue’ 

    synopsis: after-shot of chapter 196.

    ‘What crawled up his ass?’

    He Tian cuffed the top of Guan Shan’s head. It earned him a sharp exhalation from where Guan Shan sat on the bench, scowling up at him, features pinched, eyes washed copper in the sun.

    ‘Jian Yi,’ He Tian said. ‘He’s missing.’

    They watched Zhengxi stalk across the court in silence, smudges of purple storms under his eyes, shoulders rounded and taut. He swiped a basketball from the bag on the side of the court, threw it aimlessly against the chain-link fence. The sound rattled, ball smacking back down to asphalt, the whole fence trembling around the perimeter with the aftershock like soundwaves.

    ‘Like … missing?’

    He Tian made a quiet ‘hm’ sound. He’d heard nothing from his brother. The SAR must have been immediate, no handler, a quick in-and-out job. Carefully planned, cleanly executed. No casualties except a pulled shoulder from the rebound of a gun. It was only a matter of time before someone went for Jian Yi. You couldn’t have a father like that and have your hands kept clean for long. You couldn’t have a father like that and not escape without some bullet holes.

    Keep reading

    You Chose the Wrong Side (Peter Parker x reader)

    Requests: 

    1. Hey Bonnie! Could I please have a Peter Parker fic where he has this girlfriend (the reader) and he’s trying to keep his superhero life and “normal” life separate but they end up colliding and she’s put in danger. Angst (since you’re the angst queen) and she ends up dying or something? I’d appreciate it, thank you 

    2. Can you do one where you’re Steve or Tony’s daughter and you’re with Peter Parker, and some villain makes peter choose between saving you or aunt may (or maybe even you and Gwen) and he picks the other? And your dad finds out and has to live with seeing the other person constantly, and peter feels constant guilt.

    Past events are in italics

    “You can’t possibly save them both, so stop wasting your time and decide who lives and who dies. The choice is yours to make, Mr. Parker.”

    Keep reading

    Home, Part One

    Pairings: Peter Quill x Reader, Steve x Reader

    Warnings: mild language, fluff. about 3k.

    A/N: This will be two parts with a possible epilogue. Wanted to thank @thebeasthasentered for reading my first draft and giving me some really helpful feedback. 

    Summary: Your best friend in the whole  galaxy is coming to visit to help out with Thanos. When he arrives, Steve finds himself jealous of the close relationship Peter and you have. Will this stop the man from telling you how he feels? Will old feelings be brought up once Peter arrives? Does first love truly fade?  Part Two


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