i want him to be my granddad

You know that episode of iCarly where Carly’s granddad wants her to move to Yakima? And near the end of the episode when she has said goodbye to her older brother, Spencer, who was her guardian, he’s sitting on the couch all sad and jumps up and meets her at the door to their apartment building and hands Carly’s inhaler to her and shes like “My asthma inhaler? I havent needed this since I was really little.” and Spencer says “Take it anyway” and Carly’s like “Really, I don’t need it.” So Spencer turns to their granddad and hands it to him and says “Take it. You know… You never know.” that shit makes me cry just thinking about it. I fucking cant. Like don’t bring that shit up unless youre prepared to see me cry.

Bellamy Blake Imagine: Easy Choice

Requested by @jazminwinchester

Summary: Reader has feelings for Bellamy and gets into fight with Clarke, because she likes him as well. Next morning, she tells him, that he has to choose between them. Later that day, she walks in Clarke and Bellamy kissing and upset leaves camp. Out in the woods she is attacked by grounders, but is saved by Bellamy. Once they return to the camp, he tells her that he has chosen her, not Clarke and reader takes some time to process it.

Word Count: 3306


Originally posted by whateverbellamy

“You are an angel, Y/N, you know that?” I laughed at Bellamy’s compliment, “But, really, thank you.”
“You are welcome,” I smiled at him.

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Barnes’ Books - Chapter 9

In which pretty much everyone is sad. Sorry.

Previous chapters on the Masterlist


When I’m sure they’ve gone, I go back to the shop. I don’t want to go home, alone, and there’s a part of me hoping there’ll be a note from Bucky, something to hold on to.  There isn’t.  Steve’s playing with something on the floor when I walk in, scrabbling under the counter, but she runs over to me when I walk in.  I shut all the blinds and lock the door, leaving the light off, then curl up in a chair, and cry.

I cry for my own stupidity, for letting myself fall for someone; for having nothing else in my life; for James, alone in the care home, away from his only family. I cry for a long time, until it hurts to breath, until my skin feels raw with the salt tears. Steve is sitting on the arm of the chair next to me, I’m curled up, hugging my knees, glad that my joints are aching and my clothes are digging in and I hurt. I want to hurt. It’s what I deserve.

Eventually, you have to stop crying. Your body stops for you, even when your heart carries on. I was exhausted, too tired to be angry with myself any more. Too tired to go home. So I did something I probably shouldn’t have. I tucked Steve under one arm, and walked up the stairs into the flat. Kicking off my jeans, I lay down in the bed, just for a little bit, and tried to pretend Bucky was there with me.

Of course, I fell fast asleep and woke the next morning, confused and sore.  I blinked and looked around, then leapt out of bed, ashamed. In the bathroom I confronted the damage that the tears had wrought.  My eyes were red and swollen, my cheeks looked rough and sore. The rest of me looked as disastrous as always. I pulled on yesterday’s jeans and splashed some water on my face, but deep down I didn’t care.

Downstairs, I fed Steve again but she didn’t come when I called. Going out into the shop, I found her scrabbling under the counter again but when I shook her food box, she scampered in as if she hadn’t eaten for a week.

I opened the shop every day that week, went through the motions of selling and stocking and locking up. I smiled and made coffee and played with children, and then at night I went home to my own flat and sat in the dark alone. I visited James every day but the spark had gone out of both our lives and I had little to tell him. I ate badly – either nothing, or too much – and I didn’t sleep, and I cried.

On Friday, I got a text from Bucky. It was short, to the point. It hurt. ‘Accountant coming Monday. That OK? B.’  I replied saying it was fine, but he didn’t respond.  And so on Monday, after a lonely weekend, where I’d drunk alone, too much, and forgotten to eat, the accountant came. I showed him the accounts notebook, the system that Bucky had set up to record orders, the cashing up. He nodded, took away receipts, muttered about valuations.

On Tuesday, another text. ‘Estate agent coming Thursday. That OK?’ Estate agent. So Bucky meant to sell the shop? Sell James’ home, my job. The place where he grew up, where he was happy.  I cried more, and drank more. Yet again I replied and yet again he didn’t respond.

I replayed every memory of the weeks we’d spent together, and doubted every one.  I’d been kidding myself that Bucky was my friend. I told myself I had nothing to offer, nothing anyone would want. I was a convenient shop assistant, a favour to his Granddad. A joke. I was ‘nothing compared to’ his fiancée.

James was doing little better than I was. I made sure to visit him, it was the one thing every day that mattered to me.  He looked old and sad, and spent a lot of time talking about the family that had gone, about the friends he’d lost. He asked me every day if I’d heard from Bucky, but I didn’t tell him about the estate agent.

On Thursday, I woke up when the alarm went off, but I couldn’t move. What I’d thought was a cold coming on the day before had worsened. A regime of poor food, excess alcohol, poor sleep, and depression, had left me susceptible to every virus. I was icily cold then feverishly hot, my body aching unbearably.  My head throbbed every time I coughed, which was often. I tried to stand but felt so weak that my legs trembled and I fell back onto the bed, shaking. I felt sick and sore.  My last coherent thought before I fell into a fevered sleep was Bucky.  I sent him a text – ‘cant open shop, agent, ill im sorry’ – and then slept.

The only time I left my bed on Thursday or Friday, was to crawl to the bathroom to be sick. Each movement left me weaker, my head throbbing, my brain in a fog. I drank a little water from the tap but couldn’t have made it to the kitchen to get a glass. I slept, or lay half-conscious, unable to easily separate reality from fever-delirium.  At one point, late on Friday, I heard my name being called, and a loud banging. The noise hurt my head, so I buried it under the pillow where the sweat stuck hair to my face. I slept again.

By Saturday morning, I was seriously dehydrated, although I couldn’t have said as much. My cough was rattling through me, leaving my chest aching. I was retching but there was nothing there.  I heard the banging again, and my name, but was too weary to even move. I shut my eyes against the light seeping into the room around my curtains.  When I opened them again, Bucky was standing there. Another hallucination.

He crouched down beside the bed, resting the back of his fingers on my forehead.  Against my overheated skin, his hand felt as cold as metal. I tried to say his name, but my tongue was too dry and stuck to the roof of my mouth. I blinked, and the hallucination was gone, so I shut my eyes to sleep.

A moment later, I felt an arm snake around the back of my neck, and a glass being held to my mouth, a trickle of water wetting my lips.  I opened my mouth to gulp the water down, and opened my eyes to see Bucky again. He was in a suit, the tie undone and askew, and was scowling.  Too soon, he took the glass away, and laid my head back down. He sat down on the edge of the bed and I tried to stay awake to look at him. He twisted to look at me.

“I was worried. You didn’t answer my calls or texts. Nobody answered the door yesterday. I had to lie to a locksmith and say I’d lost my keys, to get in,” he said, watching me. This was a great hallucination.  He put his hand out and brushed some of the sweaty hair off my face. I fell asleep again as he stroked my face.

When I woke up, the hallucination had gone. I felt slightly less wretched than before, although the difference was slight. I turned my head a little to ease my stiff neck, and noticed a glass of water by the bed.  I knew I hadn’t put it there, but all I could think of was how nice it would be to drink. I pulled myself upright, my arms trembling with the effort, and gulped down the water. It was icy cold and felt delicious on my sore throat. I lay back, half-upright, and looked around the room. It looked different. My head hurt to think so it took a while, but I realised that it was… tidy.

Since Bucky had left, I’d taken to coming in from work, throwing my clothes in the corner, and getting into bed with a bottle of wine.  The dirty clothes were all gone now, and the collection of wine bottles and glasses too.  I swung around in bed and stood on trembling legs, walked slowly to the bedroom door. I had to hold onto the doorframe and walls as I left my bedroom and turned into the living room. It was only a small flat but it felt like a marathon to walk that far. There was a strange smell, and a clattering noise from the kitchen. I turned into the doorway to see a man’s back. He was standing by the stove, stirring a pot, and humming to himself. There was clean washing up stacked beside the sink and the washing machine was churning.

“Bucky?”

He turned and saw me. It was Bucky, of course.  I was leaning on the doorway, worn out with illness, tiredness and confusion.

“Hey, you should not be out of bed,” he said, stepping across the kitchen to put an arm around me. “Come on, sit down for a second.” He pulled out a chair and I slumped into it.  He crouched at my feet, looking up at me, his eyes an intense blue.  “Give me a minute, I’ll change your bed.”

Before I could speak, he’d stood and walked past me.  I heard cupboards opening and closing – luckily my flat was small enough there weren’t many places to look – then silence.  A few minutes later, Bucky returned.  I stood, holding onto the chair.  Other than his name, I still hadn’t spoken. I started walking, still unsure exactly what was going on, why he was here, but I was too weak still and my knees gave way.

Before I could hit the ground, Bucky’s arms were around me. He lifted me up easily and carried me through to my room. Putting me down on the bed, I felt the cool crispness of fresh linen, such a change from the hot, tangled, sweaty sheets I’d been lying on. My eyes closed as the cold pillow comforted my head, but as I drifted off to sleep, I was sure I felt someone kiss my cheek.

When I next woke, the light coming through the curtains was softer, as if evening was coming. I’d slept more peacefully, the fever breaking at last although I still felt limp and exhausted.  There was another glass of water by the bed, and again I eagerly gulped it down.  The flat was silent and I was starting to doubt my own mind.  Carefully I got up again and walked out, on legs as weak as a newborn lamb’s.

In the living room, Bucky was sitting on the couch, legs up on the coffee table.  He was reading a book and rubbing something on his lap. For a moment, I flushed brightly, wondering what he was doing, before I realised he had a cat on his lap. Steve.  Bucky and Steve were in my apartment.  I felt lost.

I coughed, harshly, and Bucky turned around, the movement disturbing Steve who stretched and meowed.

“Hey sleepyhead! Any better? Can I get some medicine into you? You’ve fallen asleep every time I’ve tried.” He stood, lifting Steve onto the couch, and walked into the kitchen as he spoke. I followed, sitting down in the chair again, chilled and tired.

“What are you doing here Bucky?” I asked, my voice raspy and sore.  He put some paracetamol and another glass of water beside me, nodding at me to take them, then pulled out another chair, sitting near enough that our knees were almost touching.

“I told you. I couldn’t get hold of you and you’d said you were ill. I was worried. So I came to look after you.”

I couldn’t quite process it. He gave me bits of information as he ran me a bath, found me clean pyjamas. He sat outside the bathroom door talking as I lay in the bath, making sure I didn’t fall asleep and drown. He continued talking as I sat back in bed, exhausted but feeling so much better for being clean, and gave me home-made soup to eat. It was as if he hadn’t been able to speak for the last two weeks, and needed to let everything out.

“When you didn’t reply to my note, I thought I’d blown it, our friendship, so I tried to keep it business-like, but, I don’t know, things felt different back at home,” he said, but before he could continue, I broke in.

“What note? You didn’t leave one.”

“Before we left. I came down out of the flat with Maria and you were gone, so I left you a note.” I turned in the bath, staring at the doorway, as if I could see him through the wood.  

“There was no note. I went back to the shop after you’d gone. There was no note.” I climbed gingerly out of the bath, the heat having sapped the last of my strength, and half-heartedly dried myself, before pulling pyjamas onto damp skin.  As I started to clean my teeth, Bucky spoke again.

“I left a note, on the counter. Next to Steve.” A pause. “Saying I was sorry. Asking you to call me if you’d still be my friend. Telling you I needed a friend.”

I pulled the bathroom door open, and he looked up. He was sitting on a dining chair he’d pulled up outside the door, elbows resting on knees, head resting on hands.  Now that water and rest had cleared my head a little, I could really see him.  He looked terrible. His skin was grey, eyes red-lined, and the frown between his eyes was deep again.

“I never got that,” I said, and as if on cue, Steve rounded the corner, ignoring us both as he walked into my room and jumped on the bed.  I remembered the way Steve had scratched at something under the counter in the shop when I’d been there.  “Steve. She must have chased it.”

Bucky let out a groan of exasperation as I climbed into bed, too tired and emotional to give a thought to Bucky being in my bedroom.  He nudged the cat with his hand and she glared at him, before moving over and climbing onto my lap. I felt teary, in that post-illness way, when every emotion seems too raw, your nerves exposed. I kept my head down and stroked Steve, watching as one or two tears darkened her fur.  

I felt the bed move and looked up to see Bucky sitting down. He looked at me, then lay back, on top of the duvet, resting his head back against the headboard. He looked exhausted, drained.

“Out of interest, if you’d got the note…?”

“I’d have replied. I’d have called.”

His eyes closed, briefly, and his face seemed to relax.  Silence fell, but it wasn’t uncomfortable.  Steve purred on my lap, and my skin tingled from the hot bath. I was tired but had slept too much to sleep again just yet.

“Buck, why did you come all this way?”

He turned his head on the pillow to look at me. “I told you. I was worried. About you, and about Granddad. You were ill. The nurses say he’s gone downhill.”

I nodded.  “He has. I’m sorry.  To be honest, you look like you have too.”

He smiled, briefly.  “I’m fine. Work stress is all.” I didn’t believe him.

“If you need a friend, I’m here to listen. And thank you. For coming here, for taking care of me.”

For a moment, just a moment, I thought he was going to talk. He needed to, it felt as if there was a flood of words dammed up inside him, but before he could sleep, I was wracked with another bout of coughing, sending Steve off my lap and leaving me doubled over and struggling to breathe.  By the time I was calm again, Bucky had stood.  

“You need to sleep. You’re not well.” He leant over and kissed my forehead, leaving my skin tingling. Before I could speak again, he’d left the room, and I heard the flat door shut.


@avengermama @heartfulloffandoms @knittingknerdy @eyeofdionysus @sian22redux  @itsemz

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@peoniesinmyhair @pixierox101 @jennymagicalheart @buckyappreciationsociety  @blacwings-and-bucky-barnes​ @chipilerendi @50shadesofyes @cupcakewarriors2  @thedreamingowl

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@siobhanrebecca  @hellomissmabel @independentgirl @amrita31199 @sebbeanstan  @angryschnauzer @abbybills22

random little funny memories
  • When I was maybe eight, my class found a dead squirrel on our way to the school cafeteria and very solemnly launched a murder investigation that we all forgot about by the end of the day.

  • My granddad went to Ireland once to visit the area our family came from originally. (About half of us came over around the time of the potato famine and ended up on both sides of the Civil War. Heck of time to move, guys). He was sitting in a pub with his oldest son and oldest grandson and someone said “I heard your last name was (family name). You do sort of look it. Gotta ask, are any of you musical?” 
  • And of course my granddad has to answer yes, because pretty much every last one of us is. And the fellow says “Oh yeah, then you’re definitely (family name). It runs in the blood, you’re all musical. There’s a whole slew of you still here, if you want to meet them!”

  • One of the younger gym teachers knew how much the kids hated running laps every day, so he went around to all the tables at lunch and asked us all what kind of show tunes we wanted to run to. I solemnly told him “The Incredible Hulk”.
Anytime | Peter Parker

Request: I was wondering if you could write one with Tom where the reader is up at like two am because she can’t sleep and is on Instagram or something and sees something that reminds her of her grandfather that recently passed away and starts crying super hard and wakes up Tom and he just holds her in her arms until she calms down. I totally get it if you’re not comfortable with that, believe me, you shouldn’t have to write it if you’re not okay with it. Love your writing, hope you have a nice day!😌

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

It was one of those nights were sleep just did not cooperate with you. You were mindlessly scrolling through Instagram, liking posts from new friends and old friends. Tom was fast asleep cuddled into you. He looked so tired after work that he fell straight into your arms and crashed. You smiled and pressed a kiss to his forehead as he snored softly.

There was a particular post that caught your eye. It stood out amongst the selfies of your friends. It was a framed picture of your grandfather, who you loved so much. You felt the tears well up in your eyes as you remembered all of the laughs and stories you shared with him. You softly sniffled and wiped away the first tear that rolled down your cheek. (think happy thoughts, he would hate to see you cry) It was when you read the caption that you lost control.

@/your_cousin: happy anniversary granddad, i miss you everyday but i know you’re better now. we all would hate to see you hurt any longer than you did. there’s nothing i want more than to see your smile again. You’re forever in my heart, love you granddad x

Suddenly tears were rolling down your face and you tried your hardest to contain the whimpers that tried to escape. Your lovely boyfriend did not deserve to be waken up this early in the morning. You would hate to be a burden, especially when you knew he had been working hard all day. Soft tremors traveled down your body, you could not help it. You figured the next best thing was to try and hide it so when Tom started shifting you turned your back to him.

You closed your phone and silently laid as your sadness slowly devoured you. You really did miss your grandfather, he was one of your closest family members. You always ran to him when you needed a friend and he welcomed you with a bright smile and a warm hug. You could not help but let out soft whimpers as you remembered the funeral, everyone standing and staring, saying goodbye.

“Love? Y/N? Are you alright?” Tom said still half-asleep. You stayed silent hoping he would go back to sleep. “Babe?” He lightly rubbed your shoulder and you let out a shaky sigh. He quickly pulled you into his arms, holding you close and rubbing your hair. “I-i’m s-sorr-ry, it’s l-late. go back t-to sleep,” you said but you were sure he would not understand you with your shaky voice. He shushed you and pulled you closer.

He kissed your forehead before pulling away and wiping your tears away. “Do you want to talk about it?” He was speaking softly. He was way more awake than he was seconds ago, he never liked seeing his favorite person cry. You softly nodded your head and he held your hand, encouraging you to go on. You took a deep breath before telling him all about your grandfather.

There were many things you loved about Tom, one of these things was his ability to know exactly what to do to comfort you. He listened to you intently, quietly but with soft squeezes and nods to ensure you he was there. He held you close and never rushed you and told you to let him sleep, he just laid there and let you unload. By the time you finished talking about your grandfather, you were drained of energy. Your tears stopped some time ago when you ran out of tears to cry.

When Tom realizes you are done talking, he kisses your forehead once more and gives you a big hug. “He loves you so much Y/N. You know that. Even if he isn’t here anymore, he’s always in the thoughts of those who love him, and that’s something right?” He whispered into your hair. You nodded and felt your eyes slowly close. “Go back to sleep,” he whispered, rubbing your back comfortingly.

“Sorry I woke you up, I did'nt-” “don’t even finish that sentence. No matter what happens, I am here for you, for anything and everything. I love you so much and seeing you like this hurts me but what hurts me more is when you feel like you have to do it alone. You are worth so much more than sleep.” You looked up at him and through the darkness of the early morning, you saw the genuine look in his eyes. “I love you so much Tom, thank you.” “Anything for you. Anything, anytime.”
~~
Thank you so much for this request! (And for loving my writing haha!) hope you have a nice day and sorry this came so late!

Barnes’ Books - chapter 8

OK:

  1. Sorry for the angst. And the crap writing.
  2. Sorry Cobie Smulders I’m sure youre very nice, you’re just impossibly beautiful and as an ugly potato I get jealous
  3. The thing Maria says at the end, someone said about me, Which was nice :/

Barnes’ Books masterlist

One thing I’ve learned in life, is how to put on an act, and boy am I glad of that right now. I’m standing and pretending to reshelve some books when Bucky rounds the corner of the shelves, fiancée in tow.  He’s smiling at me and it hurts. What a fool I am.  But I put on the act.  I straighten up from my crouch, all wide-eyed excitement, as he speaks.

“Hey, I want you to meet my fiancée, this is Maria.”

He’s holding her by the hand, pulling her along behind him, and I hold out my hand to shake hers as he introduces me. Her handshake is firm and sure, much more confident than I feel.

“Really lovely to meet you Maria, Bucky’s told me all about you!”

This is a lie, a complete lie. I realise that until just now, I didn’t even know her name. Bucky’s told me almost nothing about her, and James just refers to her as ‘that girl Jamie’s engaged to’.  Bucky looks at me and his smile is grateful. My smile, in contrast, feels forced.

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anonymous asked:

Sorry time....When I was a little girl, my grandfather used to tell me stories about how our family was descendants of selkies. The story he'd tell me was about an ancestor that fell in love with a selkie woman who lost her seal coat and was forced to stay human. Granddad always said that the sea would always call to our blood, pulling is back home. The first time I saw the ocean I was seven and I clearly remember the strong, almost disorienting feeling of wanting to leap into the water (1/?)

I remember my granddad having to hold me back and sit my on the sand and explain how dangerous the ocean was. My mom used to argue with him and tell him not to fill my head with nonsense. But he was from Scotland originally and he believed the story his mother hand told him. I swear back to the ocean at 18 and I felt the same pull but I kept myself on the sand. My granddad said the pull would always be there. He believed that until he died. (2/?)

I’m 27 now and yesterday I took my 5 year old daughter to see the ocean. She stood still for the longest time just staring at it before she took off running to the waves. I grabbed her and sat her down and told her it was dangerous. She looked up and me and said, “Momma, why do I feel like this?” She asked and pointed to her chest then to the water. I also thought my granddad’s stories were just that, stories. I’m going to write a story about this one day, for my grandfather and daughter. (3/3)

When you write that story, I want to read it. This is beautiful. Thank you so much for sharing this <3

I saw this post earlier about Jack and Bitty having siblings and I was like THANK GOD SOMEONE ELSE NEEDS THIS TOO!!!

So the thing is is that I am the oldest of 6 so me and the sister that I’m closest in age to would be prime examples of jack and his brother cause we are exact opposites (she is athletic and reserved and I’m bubbly and more into the arts) and then me and my youngest sister would be more like bitty and his younger brother. But guys. I don’t think you understand. This got long sorry.

  • Jack came out to his brother (calling him Felix) first like that’s just a fact. Whether or not his parents just accepted it and never got verbal confirmation, his bro knew first. 
  • but like the thing is is that Felix is naturally more lanky. Like jack went through an awkward chubby phase but Felix didnt he just had acne (which is still terrible for a teen to go through) but he never dealt with stretch marks or anything he just went from an awkward lanky preteen to a swole lanky teen.
    • I say this cause when they were younger they HATED eachother
    • like Felix was jealous of Jack’s drive and athleticism and Jack was jealous of Felix’s body and his ability to ignore people and be confident
    • but like they both find out that their lives suck and so they bond over being angsty teens
  • But like they still get into fights all. the. time.
  • Felix ate the last of Jack’s cookies from Bitty and when Jack gets upset “I thought you didn’t like him and he was ruining everything?” “You little-” they proceed to wrestle and bob and alicia move the furniture and place bets
    • side note: that’s how they deal with anything. If one is mad they start moving the furniture and then they start wrestling until someone wins and then they never speak of the argument again (also why Jack just picks up Shitty when he’s being stupid or annoying or they are disagreeing)
  • When Jack got his license him and Felix just went on long car rides talking about how much life is shit
  • Felix is one of the main reasons Jack sought help for his anxiety (in this au he didn’t od but the shit with Parse still happened and Felix almost beat him up)
  • Jack and Felix talk MAJOR shit. Like Felix probably knew about Bitty long before his parents could even hear of the little pie baking shit
    • Felix shipped zimbits before they started being friends let’s be real.
  • but like Jack goes to all of Felix’s shit. like all. of. it.
    • Bob and Alicia love their kids equally it was just that they invested more time in Jack possibly going pro than in Felix’s interests
    • So Jack saw him getting ignored and became his “stage mom”
    • like he;s screaming in the middle of a theatre performance cause he spotted Felix who is villager 10 in the back and almost gets kicked out
    • he gets hit on every time he goes somewhere for Felix. Felix just laughs at his awkward loving brother.
  • Also Felix goes to all of Jack’s hockey games. like rain or shine. across the country or not. school? whats that? He. is. there.


  • Bitty’s brother is Thomas but people call him Little Tommy cause their granddads name is Thomas and people call him Tommy too but now it’s Big Tommy
  • anyway they are BEST FRIENDS
  • Bitty taught him how to throw a football cause coach had assumed Tommy would be like Bitty but nope. Tommy is everything coach wanted Bitty to be.
  • Bitty teaches him the basics about football and they watch hockey together
    • I know what your thinking “why wouldn’t Bitty get his athletic brother into hockey so he’s not alone?” Well my answer to that is it’s too closely associated with Bitty being gay 
    • hear me out I live in Louisiana and my parents are a lot like Coach and Suzanne and the thing is is that bitty would feel WAY TOO uncomfy about sharing anything that he associates with him being gay with any one in his family
    • so in this case, because his brother is so much younger and doesn’t see Bitty as a friend so much as a god, Tommy didn’t know first.
  • so back to cute. Bitty takes Tommy to all the new kids movies in theaters. It’s just a thing they do. When a pg movie comes out Bitty takes him sometime opening week.
    • Bitty takes Tommy to his first rated pg-13 and first rated r movie.
  • so you can imagine when Bitty moved far away for college Tommy was really upset. Like didn’t talk to Bitty for WEEKS upset. 
  • but tommy came up to help him move in with his parents and got over it 
    • tommy asked for an iPod touch for Christmas so he could FaceTime Bitty on his own without having to use his parents phones. 
  • Bitty’s second year, tommy meets the hockey team and FALLS IN LOVE. You guys. He has been idolizing his brother for so. Long.
  • now there is a whole Haus of boys who are somewhat like Bitty except TALLER.
    • He gets shoulder rides from holster and random.
    • He watches Lardo paint and she lets him help.
    • He sits with shitty in the reading room as he goes on a rant and learns SO MUCH.
    • And finally Jack. Literally Bitty got so jealous of Jack when tommy met him. Like tommy had it BAD. Every time they ft after Tommy would always ask five times when jack was visiting Georgia 
  • when it finally happened Bitty wanted it to be a surprise so jack walked in the door and Tommy clung to his leg. They couldn’t separate him for 4 hours.
    • 4th of July was amazing for Bitty because Tommy paraded Jack around like a prize to all of his friends.
    • they played a pick up game of kickball and after 3 minutes of Bitty and Jack playing together one team and the other 15 Bittle/Phelps cousins on the other the kids split them up because it was an unfair advantage.
    • Literally I have to stop cause i could write PARAGRAPHS about Jack with Bittle/Phelps cousins at 4th of July. PARAGRAPHS
Barnes’ Books - chapter 6

Not gonna lie, this chapter is disappointing. I’m sorry. No matter what, I couldn’t get it to flow, it’s all disjointed and I hate it :/ 

I have a plan for the next chapter (when Bucky’s fiancee should appear) but I don’t blame you if you give up after this one. I’m sorry I suck.

Barnes’ Books masterlist

I definitely felt different as I walked out of the hospital. I always tried to be a positive person, although the last few months had really got me down, but I liked to see the good in people.  Knowing that Bucky had seen my picture, and cared enough to think James would like it, that made me feel warm inside. Sure, Bucky was a bit of an ass, but he made his granddad smile, and that did endear me to him.

Yeah, I’ll admit there was a bit of vanity in there too. Hearing ‘you have talent’ was nice. And yes, OK, you win. Bucky was pretty good looking, fine, yes. So knowing he’d mentioned me was a bit of a boost. I’d been dumped! It was nice to be on someone’s radar, even if a little voice in my head was whispering ‘he probably said ‘that crazy cat hair woman who hangs around drew this’…’ Whatever it was, I felt more positive than I had done for a while. I’d wallowed for a while, and while knew the positivity wouldn’t last, I had to make hay while the sun shines and all that. Not that it was, shining that is. Rain again. But that was OK. I splashed back from the hospital to my flat, and decided to take stock.  

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CUTE STORY ALERT

ok so the building i work in is like, old as fuck and ~historical~ whatever and it was used several years ago as a set in a Big movie with some Big names, that was before my time here but anyway. today this little ten year old kid and his grandfather were up here walking around our floor (it’s all public) and my co-worker kinda heard them whispering and went out and asked if he could help and it turns out this kid is like, Fandom Mania for this movie which is hilarious because like, it was a Big movie but it wasn’t like, popular, it didn’t last in any significant way, but he’s super duper into it and his granddad drove him all the way here across the state to this tiny small town to see our building, so my co-worker and i took the kid around and showed him all the places they filmed in and he was just so excited, and then my co-worker, who was in the movie, was showing him around and said told him “oh ya know this is where i sat, do you want to try it? go ahead, sit here” and this kid was so excited he just about had a heart attack, and then my coworker thought, oh god, hold on, so he runs out and gets from his office some kind of like, orange camera screen or whatever that was left behind, and gives it to the kid and the kid just about bursts into tears he’s so excited to have this from the movie, anyway long story short we got to make someone’s fandom day happy and good and this kid’s granddad was so cute and thankful and told us all about how they’d been driving all over the state checking out the filming sites and everything, like go you grandpa you adorable supportive nerd you, go you kid get that fandom experience, live ya dreams!! 

itsthefbiandfriends  asked:

Maehb and 12 meet again after the events of Hell Bent. Seeing her causes strong memories about Clara to surface.

This sounds like it could be an episode of Class that would be interesting enough to make me want to watch Class (because, hint: I have absolutely zero interest in Class, as the only DW spinoff that is neither mind-numbing and/or pretentious in tone is SJA, as the last thing you do is “family show, but for an edgier and more mature audience” because that’s rude as all get-out).

3435 words; takes place sometime vaguely s10, though how true to canon it is can vary, especially once the Christmas special rolls around this year (*sobs quietly*); do not read if you are looking for Nardole love, because I am 1000% Nardole Hate and I have no regrets; ugh now I’m feeling nostalgic for s8 this is very dangerous indeed

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Someone to love Part 2: Luck is very kind

Summary: You’d been there the whole time. Maybe now it’s time to let Steve know what he thinks he’ll never find.

Pairing: Steve x Reader

Character’s: Steve, Reader, Natasha, Peggy, OC male (Reader’s grandad), Sam, T’Challa, Bucky, mentions of Sharon

Setting: from Captain America the First Avenger to Civil War.

Warnings: none for now.

Notes: written for my 400 follower celebration requested by @angryschnauzer the song is Somebody to love by Queen. What was supposed to be a one shot grew into a four or more parts cause the idea just stuck with me. Hope you enjoy.

Someone tags: @ek823 @spnhybrid @iamwarrenspeace @the-doctor-called-loki

Permanent tags: @winters-buck @marvel-lucy @angryschnauzer @marvelfanfichq

@aquabrie @creideamhgradochas

Key: Y/GF/N = your grandfather’s name

 Someone to love Part 1

Part 2: Luck is very kind

2012

“You sure about this?”

“Why not? It’s just DC,” frowning, Steve turned from packing up his suitcase, to glance at the red head standing in his doorway.

Shrugging, pushing away to walk in, arms crossed, “What about that gal you met, you gonna try and find her before you leave?”

“That’s been over a year ago Nat, not likely she’d even remember me. Besides why’s it matter?” shaking his head Steve turned back to packing. Not that he’s got a lot of possessions in the first place. One can’t collect things while frozen stiff for nearly seventy years and only reacquired to this world in the last few years.

“Give you something to look forward to on return trips to New York,” plunking down on the edge of his bed. “Why are you even considering leaving home?”

Snorting softly, while closing his suitcase, “Just another place is all Nat. Besides I have my orders, it’s time to go,” pulling the case off the bed, backpack slung over his shoulder, Steve gave the room one last look.

Being the place he’d called home, if there truly is such a thing anymore as everyone he knows, loved, and cared about is dead. He’s alone in an unfamiliar world, trying to rebuild a life from the ashes of the past and staying here, right now just makes it worse.

Soft sigh leaving pink lips, Natasha rose clapping Steve on his broad shoulder, “Well I’ll see you around then Cap.”

Not looking back, Natasha headed for the elevator. Their little team/family is breaking apart, not that she had any ideas of grandeur just small little thoughts of things being different. Maybe with time it’ll be different, snorting at that thought, pushing the down button, Natasha shoves those thoughts aside. Steve’s right its time to move on.

Watching her go, Steve’s unsure of what exactly his next move should be. The small scrap of paper in his front jeans pocket burning a hole in his thoughts. He hadn’t let anyone know, except for Fury who’d found the information. Not sure even what to expect, Steve accepted the offer of working in DC to be closer to his last link. Hope being the only thing he’s got left.

**********

Several months later

He’s been gone for a week, not that she’d noticed much, her memory being what it is. Pacing outside her door, nerves making his hands sweat that he wipes on his jeans before knocking lightly.

“Come,” English accent still strong.

Entering, bright smile on his lips, watching Peggy sit by the open window warm summer breeze blowing in, ruffling her greying brown hair.

Eyes search before coming to rest on him, “You’re back.”

“As promised Peg.”

Light blush dusting her cheeks, “No one calls me that anymore Steve.”

Chuckling, talking a seat across from her, “Better not, that names reserved.”  

“Oh you,” she smiles taking his hand in her frail one, patting the top. “How was the mission?”

Raking the free hand through his hair, making it stand on end for a few seconds. He’s surprised she remembers, “Complicated.”

“Aren’t they all?”

“To true,” answers short, eyes going from her aged face to the open window where street sounds make their way up to the fifth floor.

“Something wrong Steve?” not needing her failing memory in right order to figure out there’s something troubling him. She could see that written plainly on his handsome face.

Snapping his glaze back to her, “No, no of course not Peg just thoughts.”

“You’re still a horrible liar Rogers,” stating the obvious, a harsh pat to the hand still in hers. “What’s really eating away at your mind?”

Deep sigh leaving his lips, Steve turns away from Peggy a moment, collection his thoughts on how to even answer her. “The last mission,” biting his bottom lip feeling Peggy give his hand a reassuring squeeze. “It’s not the same.”

“What did you think it would be like Steve? Hugs and rainbows?” she snarks, eyes rolling as she stared at him.

For a moment he’s shocked, a snort issuing from his parted lips, “Not likely Peggy, just,” shrugging hand running through his hair once more. “This life, this time it’s so different,” taking his hand from hers, Steve stood pacing the small stretch of plush carpet behind the chairs.

“You will fit in Steve not right away but soon.”

Locking eyes with her aged ones, Steve for a second saw the spark of the young Peggy the one he remembered and fell in love with during a time of his life when everything was upside down. He wanted to believe, to know she’s right, but it’s not that simple. In that moment he witnessed the shift in her demeanor going from knowing he’s alive and how it came to be, to barely recalling his name.

“Steve?” voice frail, small. So unlike it’d been just moments ago when she told him off.

“Yeah Peg it’s me. I came back,” reassuring her by coming to crouch beside her chair, soft smile on his lips.

Staying for only twenty minutes more, helping her to bed to rest, he takes one more look back watching the peace fall over her sweet face. A war going on in his own mind while walking out the door, softly closing it behind him, only to run into someone. Arms immediately going around the person’s waist keeping them from falling backwards.

“You unhand my granddaughter this instance you punk,” deep male voice spoke from behind her, as Steve comes to find soft curves pressed against his larger, harder frame.

“Miss I’m so sorry I hadn’t seen,” words caught in his throat as you move your H/C hair from your face bright smile on your lips.

“You better be watching where you’re walking Mr. Rogers you pack quite a punch there,” you grin stepping from his arms, the warmth going with it.

Coming to stand beside you, “Bless me is that really you Captain Rogers?”

“Granddad remember I told you of my meeting him that afternoon,” your glancing between your grandfather and Steve who’s caught between embarrassment in almost running you over and shock at seeing someone he knew from seventy years ago and seeing you again.

“You gonna keep staring boy are you gonna speak,” poking Steve’s shoulder as she playfully swatting at your granddad.

“Sorry, I just,” rubbing the back of his neck. “I wasn’t expecting to see you again Y/N and here of all places.”

“Small world huh Steve?” you smile up at him, butterflies dancing in your tummy. “Where are my manors, granddad Steve,” you motion towards the younger man before turning to the older another bright smile on your lips. “Steve my granddad. He moved in a few years back when mom and dad decided to move to Florida.”

“It’s truly an honor getting to meet you sir,” Steve began only to be cut off.

“Bah, honor my aunt fanny if anything its good seeing you again boy. It’s been too long and time’s been anything but kind to an old soul like mine. Unlike you,” laughing, crinkles forming beside forest green friendly eyes. “Do me a favor Captain, get this young dame outta here for a bit she’s been here too long.”

“Granddad, I’m here to visit you of course I’m gonna spend time with you,” groaning resisting the urge to facepalm.

“You’ve been here almost all day, besides I’ve got a hot dinner date can’t have you hanging around spoiling all my fun,” he winks at Steve, who blushed and laughed.

“It would be my pleasure to escort you to dinner, if you’re hungry that is and if you want to go with me. You don’t have to, I can just walk with you to your car,” he’s rambling, nerves getting the better of him.

“Steve,” when you notice he doesn’t look at you, you place a hand on his forearm garnering his attention. “I’d love to go to dinner with you. In fact I know the prefect place,” smiling you notice that underlying sadness in his demeanor again and wonder.

“That’s settled then, Y/N tomorrow not before eleven please. I love you but I need my sleep especially after tonight,” he winks again giving you a tight hug. Before turning to Steve hand out which the younger man takes and shakes firmly. “Still has a tight grip, I like that in a man. You take care of my granddaughter.” Leaning in to whisper, “You have my blessing,” patting his broad shoulder before taking off down the hallway leaving you and Steve to stare after his slowly disappearing form.

“What…”

Chuckling, turning to face Steve, “That’s my granddad, doesn’t act like he’s almost ninety does he?”

“No he sure doesn’t, reminds me of my best friend actually,” fawned smile gracing his lips tinged with sadness.

Placing a hand on his bicep this time, “We don’t have to go eat Steve. I can make my way alone, done it many times.”

Shaking his head, taking the hand and wrapping it around his arm fully, “I wouldn’t dream of letting him down Y/N.”

Starting to walk towards the elevator, “So what brings you to DC?”

“I live here now,” Steve could’ve sworn he saw your face fall a fraction but it’s replaced so quickly by a smile that he thinks he’s seeing things as you enter.

“Oh,” clearing your throat, hoping foolishly so that he still lived in New York City, where you could’ve spent more time together. Shaking that thought from your mind, “DC is wonderful, different with all the sharks in suits up on capitol hill but still beautiful.”

“I take it you’re not much for politics then?”

“Right you are Rogers,” grinning while the two of you exit the elevator heading for the street. “We can walk to the diner from here. Unless you rather drive?”

“No, no walking’s fine,” feeling at ease for the first time since being thawed out, Steve’s enjoying himself with just the simple things.

Light conversation goes back and forth, learning that you’re a writer in your spare time, a lowly, your words, editor for a small online magazine, and you love pie. Pausing at the door, which Steve opens letting you go in first, a surprised smile gracing your lips as it’s something that doesn’t happen often. Finding the right booth more towards the back away from the prying eyes of many who stared, as the two of you walked in.

On instinct Steve takes a seat facing out, eyes watching, on guard just in case.

“Do you ever relax?” your voice breaking his train of thought to find your watching him.

Finding that as you walked to the diner, Steve seemed tense, watchful. Not that it bugs you, more concern than anything else.

“I, yeah, yes of course I do. Why do you ask?”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a horrible lair?” teasing more than anything you toy with the menu the waitress placed in front after taking your drink orders of ice tea for you and coffee for Steve. “You just seem so tense is all. You can relax Steve.”

Sighing, raking a hand through his sandy blond hair. He’s unsure of what to say exactly. “Relaxing isn’t a luxury I can afford truthfully Y/N.”

Reaching across the scared table to take his hand in yours, wondering where this bold streak is coming from. You’ve never been quite this open or flirty with a guy before, but there’s just something about Steve that sets your nerves to calm even as your heart races.

“You can Steve, it won’t kill you.”

“It might others.”

Head cocked to the side words halted as your drinks arrive and you let her know that a few more minutes are needed as neither of you have looked at the menu yet.

“Our lives aren’t infinite Steve, we’re born to die as my granddad would always tell me. That it’s what we do with the time in-between that counts the most.”

Swallowing hard the words spill out before he can stop them, “I don’t belong here Y/N.”

“Here as in DC, this diner, the US, here with me? What do you mean Steve?” frowning you give his hand a squeeze unknowingly using the same hand Peggy had clasped not too long ago.

“This time, place everything,” deep bone weary sigh leaves his lips. “I don’t belong in this time. Everything’s so different, confusing, strange and I can’t seem to wrap my head around it all.”

Relinquishing the hold on his hand, to stand and come over to his side of the table waving the waitress away again with just a look. Steve’s sight is trained on the outside, the people, weather anything to get away from the words and feelings he just let out.

“Steve,” softly resting a hand on his shoulder coaxing him to turn and look at you. In that moment you knew what the weary look in his sky blue eyes meant. “I’m not going to say I understand what you’re going through, cause God knows I don’t. But I will say that if you want to talk about it, about anything I’ll lend an ear, or a shoulder.”

Without thinking about it, Steve slid forward into your embrace letting you wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him close. For the first time since his mother passed all those years ago Steve Rogers felt safe and cared about, as a person not a myth or hero or science experiment, but a man. It’s strange because he barely knows you, yet at the same time he feels drawn to you.

“Thank you,” he whispered into your shoulder feeling your small hands rub his back gently.

Marveling at how much pain and anguish this man held within him, the strength of will he used to keep it all from people who should’ve seen what you have from just two meetings. Yet you realize that he’s allowing you to see him at this moment, that he trusts you for whatever reason and you feel honored to have that trust.

“No need to thank you Steve cause I’m damn sure gonna use your shoulder and ear to,” chuckling, hoping to get him smiling even a little and to your surprise he lets out a soft laugh.

Siting up to stare at you, wondering why of all the people he’s met in this time and you’re the one who makes him feel more alive and valued than ever before. “I’m at your serves milady.”

“Dork,” punching his arm but only hurting your own hand. “Damn you got arms of steel or what Superman?”

“First I’m a dork now I’m this Superman person, I think you might need your head checked Y/N you’re talking strange.”

You go to retort sarcastically only to have Steve’s deep laughter make you smile again. Shaking your head, starting to raise only to have him stop you. “Stay.”

“Of course,” giving him a shy smile the two of you looking over one menu and choosing dinner together, talking late into the evening. 


Part 3

Barnes’ Books - chapter 3

I’m enjoying this, but writing it this fast (I’m also being a mum today and so on obviously!) does I’m sure mean it’s all a load of tripe and full of errors too. Sorry! x

Barnes’ Books masterlist


I guess I’m expecting a phone call that night, or the next morning, so I’m on edge. After I left the message, I fed Steve, locked up and went home, but I couldn’t sleep well, kept waking up, thinking I’d heard the phone ring. It didn’t though, laying silent and useless.

The next morning I went back to the hospital, glad for the first time that I was out of work and could be there for James.  He looked pale against the hospital sheets, and the nurse told me he’d had a bad night with the pain. They planned to operate that afternoon, all being well. I held James’ hand, and told him that I’d called his grandson, and that I was sure he’d be here soon. He’d just been given another dose of pain meds and wasn’t really with it, so it was hard to judge if calling Jamie had been the right thing to do. I wittered on for a bit, telling him that I’d feed Steve, but I think he got a bit confused with all the drugs, started laughing and telling me that Steve had a big appetite, that I’d better cook extra spaghetti sauce. When he started to drift off again, I patted his hand, told him I’d look after the shop, and left.

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anonymous asked:

When I was 5 me and my granddad watched Pirates of the Caribbean and watched them all until Stranger Tides came out in 2011. I'm 17 now just showed him the Dead men tell no tales trailer, for old time sakes, and now he's walking around the house quoting Captain Jack Sparrow and humming the theme song, saying how we should go to watch it in cinemas, as long as he can dress up as Captain Jack... He's 70 and wants to cosplay. This man is the oldest FanBoy alive...

omg this is the absolute cutest

Not You Granddad, The Other Granddad! *Steve Rogers x Reader*

Originally posted by zeiaexplainitall

Summary: Your Granddad comes to visit, he’s quirky and witty, also he fought in WW2 and often tells you stories. The only he has left of his old life is his medals, so when he sees Captain America he clearly has the best day of his life, along with meeting the Avengers also.
Warnings: Granddad clearly flirting with Natasha, swearing, having to call Steve Granddaddy instead of Granddad… jokes about Steve STILL being the oldest in the room even with the 97 War Veteran there. 
Authors Note: Thank you to my actual Granddad who got a iPad for Christmas and created a Tumblr to read mine and Angie’s stuff, he gave me the idea, bless his soul and I hope Great-Granddad Lucas likes it. Also I used my Great-Granddad’s name, if you want you can change it to yours but Lucas and also I am using the nickname my Great-Granddad has given me because it was used a lot during the 40′s & 50′s! Hollywood is a petname for a girl who was trendy or up to date with the latest stories. My Lucas is going to have a hoot when he see’s I’ve used Stan-Lee but they like oddly similar, uncanny.


You spent two-days preparing for this day. It had to be perfect, you had planned everything to be how you wanted it to be for him, after all he was one of the most important people in your life. 

Great-Granddad Lucas was coming to visit you, being an Avenger meant you didn’t get to see him as much as you used to, which was difficult since he lived with you growing-up and not having him around everyday was something you had to learnt to get used to- it was difficult. Somehow you managed a day-off and you planned to have him come visit you. 

You grew up with him telling stories of World War 2, his life before technology and whatever else he dealt with back then, so it came as no surprise that you instantly felt safe around Steve. He reminded you of Great-Granddad Lucas, his constant stories, and old-ways felt like home. 

Hollywood” the old, familiar voice travelled through the Avengers Base (Age of Ultron one), you span so quickly you felt dizzy but ran at the old man who held his arms open for your hug. 

His scent was the same cologne he has been using since the mid seventies, white hair slicked back in the same style and aviator brown lens glasses concealed his green eyes.  A huge smile graced his wrinkled face, he pulled back to stare at you, the look of pride settling in and it made you smile even brighter “you look wonderful” he finally concluded, lost for words at you all grown up. 

It’s not the army but it’s the next best thing, right?” you gesture at the facility you now reside in, he gave a long whistle as you showed him around the base, occasionally introducing him to people like; Maria and even Fury who had dropped by “just following in your footsteps, Granddad” you nudge playfully.

I was never even close to being an Avenger, Hollywood” you chuckled the pet-name never embarrassing you or annoying you, simply making you feel at home again, it had been a while someone had called you anything but your name. 

You helped save the world all those years ago, I’d like to think you are some kind of Super-Hero for that, without you fighting we wouldn’t be here; we’d all be speaking German” you shrugged and he nodded.

Life’s not the same without you, kid” he tells you, coffee in hand as he sits across from you, you smile gently and nodded. Chess board between you both on the glass coffee-table in the room Tony has labelled the ‘Games Room’. 

Hey, (Y/N)” Steve walks in with Sam, still in uniform, well just wearing his Captain America pants but grey-incredibly-tight shirt, you smiled and waved at them both. Heading for the foosball table but Steve stopped and looked at your Great-Granddad. 

Oh, Steve this is my great-granddad Lucas” you stand and watch as Lucas remains slightly awe-struck from Steve’s presence. He hadn’t fought directly with Steve, although he had crossed paths with Peggy during and after the war, even attended her wedding “or as many others know him as Sargent Lucas (Y/L/N)” he stands up, Steve grins and extends his hand, Lucas taking it in silence, Sam chuckled and introduced himself “Lucas, that is Captain America” he gives you a look, making Steve chuckle.

Pleasure to meet you Captain” he tells him “I never got to meet you but I did get to meet the Howling Commandos, I say meet we often sat in the same bar” Steve chuckled and they both said the name, you smiled, you had often wanted Lucas to meet Steve and you wish you had done it sooner because the smile on Lucas’s face was priceless.

No. all the times I met Peggy she was giving me orders, I followed because she could kick some serious ass” Steve nodded in agreement “fire-cracker that one, often reminds me of (Y/N) with the attitude she has displayed throughout her life, not giving up on a fight” he patted your knee, you chuckled, shaking your head “if I had a dime for every time she came home with a bruise I’d be living like Stark” he commented, you blushed and smiled, nodding in the fact you did get into many fights 

“She never liked taking orders, probably why she never made it into the army at seventeen, she punched her superior in the face for calling her a weak women” You looked at Sam and Steve who raised their eyebrows at you, you never mentioned it before because… they both served and also it was kind of embarrassing.

I take orders now, obviously” you mutter.

I doubt this guy is going to call you weak” Lucas defends your attitude now, you nodded in agreement and Steve agreed he would not use a word like weak to describe you “just as long as you come back safely I’ll support you” he pats your shoulder, you smile, he worries about you a lot but that’s okay being an Avenger meant you were constantly in danger; he has every right to be worried about you. 

Sam, you’re needed down in the gym” Natasha walked in, grabbing the attention of everyone, Sam said his goodbyes before leaving “Hi, Natasha Romanoff” she stepped forward extending her delicate hand to your great-granddad, who had raised eyebrows.

Lucas (Y/L/N)” he accepts with a grin, you looked at Steve who was chuckling with a smile, this was the first time you had seen Lucas flirting and Natasha seemed to love the attention from your great-granddad “I get the feeling you could kick my ass and I love that” he comments, Natasha chuckled.

Very nice, I now see where (Y/N) get’s her flirting skills from” she winks playfully, you snicker at the conversation before you “you do not look a day over eighty, next time you are around we could spend some time together?” she suggested.

Sure thing, toots” that took you by surprise, thinking it’s probably time he headed home.

Come on, granddad” you stand up, Steve let out a long groan and gave you an annoyed look, making you instantly smile “not you granddad, the other granddad” he blushed and nodded, helping Lucas up they said their goodbye’s. 

“Right new pet-name” you say coming back into the room, Steve had now taken the seat your granddad had “you will be now known as Granddaddy” you conquer, he raises his eyebrows at you and you sit down with a sigh, wishing Lucas could have stayed a little bit longer with you “granddaddy is a term for sugardaddy, only its a hella old man” you told Steve about sugar-daddy’s, them being a sweet and something women seek in a man, to say he got embarrassed was an understatement. 

He smiled and laughed at you “anyway, you were still the oldest in the room today” you nudge playfully, he sighs, pouting as he sulked and crossed his arms. 

That’s actually depressing” he pouts “your great-granddad is younger than me!” he sighs dramatically, you giggle at the man known as Captain America, he looks at you.

Ooh, that means you can give me a cute pet-name like my great-granddad did” you await as he thinks for something, he was slouched in his seat as his blue eyes wonder around the room. 

I’m stuck between, Little one” you smile at the name, you were extremely smaller than Steve, it kind of made you laugh but at times it was intimidating being near him because of his sheer size “Dollface or bunny” he looks at you, all the names made you blush. 

I like them all” you conclude.

“I can’t call you all of them, what about all the other women?” he asked, a laugh escaped you “okay, Sam… he deserves Bunny, allow him Bunny” you fall back laughing at him.

Little One is good” you smile sitting up and he nods “Sam can have Bunny, his eyes do remind me of a cute bunny” he chuckled “that settles it, Granddaddy and Little One” he groaned “we sound like a great signing duo” he looks down at you, a mixture of affection, love and pure annoyance all glaring at you, causing you to smile.

(Hope you like this. FINALLY able to upload, hopefully the Queue is working also otherwise this has gone up at the wrong time, it should be up at 11:30GMT on 27th December- if not I am so sorry that Tumblr is continuing not allowing me to Queue. Queuing stuff is how I get everything up, I don’t have time to write and upload it, I have to write it… edit it and then queue it and hopefully if I have enough time I can edit it whilst it’s uploaded. I write everything in advance and queue them for certain dates, otherwise nothing will be uploaded at good times, or you’ll get five Bucky things and one Wanda, I like thing being even and planned. Remember you can request; imagines and one shots by myself and Angie - Rosalee)

barleycoffee  asked:

List 5 facts about your most favorite sim of yours and send this to 10 simblrs whose sims you adore <3

omg thank you so much ♥♥ I, of course, must do my fabulous fave…

  1. He grew up in Isla Paradiso with his mom, dad, two sisters, and his granddad.
  2. When he was a teenager, he moved in with his granddad to take care of him in his old age. When his granddad passed away, all property rights/home were given to Kekoa. He still lives there to this day. 
  3. He is so fucking gaaaayyy. And he’s proud of that fact, too.
  4. He’s penpals/friends with my simself (cause like I want to be friends with this boy in rl, so why not in game?). They met when they were teenagers during my simself’s high school graduation trip to Isla Paradiso.
  5. He has never left the island, but desperately wants to see the world.

And here’s a personal extra for you:

  1. I created him almost a year ago and still have never played with him in game. 
3

I know this blog is usually very jokey jokey but after my granddads funeral I just gotta say that I know I’ll miss him and in his spirit of always wanting to make friends…

I just want to say that I value cherish and love all the friendships I’ve made on here that are always there when I need them and when they need me

@the-vegetarian-artist @eric-coldfire @jodethejester @captainjingo @zawa-ro @relateddude @oolay-tiger @vogolsart

I love all of you and I hope you’re all doing amazingly and I can’t wait for us to do more awesome things in the years to come.

Sincerely,
Conner aka Swindle

anonymous asked:

I'm the anon that sent you what my grandfather said about VA. "Anyone who thought the Nazis wouldn’t get violent is a dumb ass." I just wanted to tell you this thing that you replied is about a direct quote from him on the matter when we were discussing it.

I need to meet your granddad I feel like we would get along.

WWII Veteran - One-shot (Steve x Reader)

Originally posted by sonicaru

Summary: Y/N’s grandfather is a WWII veteran who makes a new friend at the VA and wants his granddaughter to meet his new friend. Y/N is expecting to meet an older man her grandfather’s age, not Captain America.

A/N: The idea popped into my head and I thought I would be cute, so I just had to write it. I hope y’all like it. I’ll be back in the States in exactly one week so hopefully I can get back to posting more regularly. 


“Hi Granddad,” I smile at my grandfather as I walk into the living room of my mother’s childhood home.

“Y/N,” he smiles looking over his large newspaper to look at me. “It’s been a while.”

“I know,” I frown, “I’m sorry. This job has me running all over the place I finally had a moment to myself, so I decided to come see you.”

“I’m glad you did,” he grins.

“So Granddad, what trouble have you been up to lately,” I ask him taking a seat net to him on the sofa.

“You know me too well,” he laughs. “Just the usual. There’s a new member in VA. His name is Steve. He’s from the war too.”

“Really,” I ask surprised. Granddad had fought in WWII back in the day. I still shook my head every time he told me the story on how he had lied on his enlistment form and joined the army at the age of 16. From the pictures he had from when he was younger it wasn’t hard to believe how easily he had gotten away with it.

“I want you to meet him,” Granddad grins patting my knee. “I think you’ll like him.

“I would love to Granddad,” I smile at him. “I love hearing your stories from back in the day, I’m sure I would love hearing his stories as well.”

“Trust he will have better stories to tell than I do,” Granddad smiled. “I really do think you will like him.”

“Granddad you sound like you’re trying to set me up with him,” I state.

Granddad doesn’t answer. He just smiles to himself and turns back to reading his newspaper.

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