i wish i got paid for making gifs of things no one else cares about

I’m really liking how this one turned out. Such a cute little fluffy ending, too! Let me know what you think about this one guys. I might just go reread it because I so enjoyed writing it! Thank you to all the people leaving feedback last time - I’m looking at you @cajunlizard, @thevanishedillusion, @the-blue-haired-boy, and @legrandfoyer! Enjoy, everyone.

Prompt[s]:  Is there more? Please tell me there is more.

An Interview With Tony Stark was one of the nicest, vanilla-coffee-with-beatles-background-music level of delighful, and best written stories I have read in a long long time

I’d definitely love to see more of this story! … maybe Tony can keep stealing the reader away from Bruce to help him with his projects…

‘An Interview with Tony Stark’ (Part 2)

Part 1

Bruce bashed his fists against the door to Tony’s lab incessantly. They used to share a laboratory space, but a combination of Tony’s spread-everything-everywhere habits and Bruce’s growing need for a larger room forced them to different floors. Luckily they weren’t so far apart that, should there be an emergency, they could still reach each other in short time.

Bruce considered this a… mild emergency.

He hadn’t had to “knock” long before the door finally opened. It only opened a crack, mind you. Tony put himself in the small gap between the door itself and the frame. He smiled thinly.
“Hey, pal. What’s going on?”

Keep reading

 This is so long, goshhhhh. I’m feeling so hard for Spencer Reid. Look at that .gif! He’s such a puppy. 


We believe the killer is a white male, in his mid to late twenties. He is very organized and intelligent but he instantly shows signs of low self esteem and needs reassurance and will probably bring up the killings in conversation. We believe he stalks his victims for long periods of times before actually making contacts them. This guy has no type, he takes any opportunity he can get and kills indiscriminately-” the TV went off with a click and Logan plopped onto your couch, looking at you with his big, brown eyes and the smirk that somehow always seemed to be on his face, no matter what situation he was in. Sometimes, you regretted giving him a key. 

“Get dressed, babe.” he flashed his teeth at you before he winked. 

“I’m not going out tonight.” you told your best friend. He looked at you with a that smirk on his lips, knowing that soon enough he would convince you to do whatever he wanted. “Did you see the news? There’s a killer out there, Logan.” you pointed at the TV, waving your fingers around. 

“I met a new guy and he invited you to go out with us, Y/N, so you’re going.” he put his head in your lap and you tapped his forehead quickly with your fingernails so he would move. “You bitch, I paid good money for those.” he grabbed your hand and pulled it into his lap, examining your fingernails for chips or cracks. 

“I’m not going, Logan.” 

“Yes, you are.” moving to stand in front of you, he took both of your hands this time as he pulled you up. “I’ll buy you breakfast.” he promised. 


“And lunch.” 


“And supper and I’ll pay your Netflix bill for three months, I swear to the gods.” Logan promised, looking you in the eyes. You huffed and puffed, pulling away from him as you walked into the hall and got into your closet, pulling a dress off the rack. 

“How long have you known him?” you asked, ducking into the bathroom to change. 

“A couple of days. I met him at the bar Thursday when I was doing my show. He’s really nice, a little shy. He’s adorable, I think you’ll like him.” he nodded his approval when you walked back into the hall and shrugged. 

“”You say that about all of them.” you rolled your eyes, grabbing your phone and keys on your way out of your door. 

The club Logan did shows at every week wasn’t very big. It was always crowded, though, especially on Saturday nights. 

You hated going out with Logan when he was meeting up with a guy because you usually ended up in a corner somewhere with a coke and a magazine. But this guy was different. The three of you sat together in a circular booth. The guy introduced himself as Charles and Charles kept you in the conversation, unlike any man Logan had ever introduced you to. You liked him and thought he could be good for Logan, who usually tended to choose odd guys.

“Y/N, what do you?” 

“I take care of him, what are you talking about?” you laughed nervously, not one for loud places and lots of people. Charles’ eyes were oddly calming and when you look at him, things got a little quieter. 

“Well, that’s full time on its own, but I was talking about your job? Where do you work?” he asked as he leaned back and put his arm around Logan. So you told him about your job and how much you loved it, answering any questions he had as he listened attentively, his light eyes, flickering down to Logan every once in a while. “That’s so cool.” 

“What do you do?” you asked. 

“I’m a writer.” he told me. 

“No you’re not, you told me you worked in a restaurant up town.” Logan snapped out of his trance and looked at Charles then at me. Logan had had sketchy boyfriends before and he could clock one from a mile away. 

“That’s just where I work. I’m a writer, babe, I told you that.” Charles laughed it off but his eyes became much more frantic as he looked back to me. “Anyway, did you hear about those murders?” 

“Yea.” Logan nodded his head toward the door when Charles wasn’t looking at him. 

“No.” I lied to tell Logan I didn’t want to leave. 

“You haven’t heard about them?” Charles asked, his upper lip twitching a little and at that moment, I looked at Logan, having changed my mind. We were both always so paranoid of everything and part of me felt bad for it but I thought for a second that Charles might- No. It was impossible. 

“Excuse us, Y/N and I are going to the ladies room.” Logan grinned. 

“You’re going to the girl’s room?” Charles asked. “It’s for girls.” 

“You sound like my dad.” Logan rolled his eyes and grabbed my elbow in his way out of the booth. “He is shady as fuck, we’re getting out of here.” 

“No. Logan, listen, you drug me out here and now you want to go home.”

“Who talks about murder on a date? We can party somewhere else if you’re really in the mood for it but I’m not staying here.” he shook his head, looking into the mirror and twisting his finger under his bottom eye lid to fix his eye-liner. 

“No, we should stay. He’s not that bad.” you pleaded. 

“Okay, but if says any more sketchy bull, I’m high tailing it the fuck outta here.” he waved you off. 

“You know you can’t resist a chance to tell me, “I told you so.’” you pushed between his shoulder blades and you two left the bathroom. 

You two sat at the table with Charles against, who looked nervous as you sipped your drink. He probably knew you two were talking about him so you spoke to him and Logan pouted most of the time. Soon, though, you wished you’d listened to Logan because you were getting tired, really quickly. 

“Y/N!” Logan called out. It took a thousand years for you to turn your head to your best friend, who was leaning over in the seat. “Run.” he almost whispered. You wondered how you could hear him in all the noise around you. You could feel his breath on your neck as he slumped against you, trying his best to push you out of the seat. “Drug.” he whispered. 

“Y/N, Logan? Are you guys okay?” Charles feigned concern, his voice dripping with it but the grin on his face ruining it all. Jewels, a friend of yours and Logan’s, came over to the table. 

“How ya doin’, honey?” she smiled. 

“Help.” I groaned and she laughed, turning to Charles. 

“Are you his date?” she asked Charles. 

“Yea, does he always get this drunk?” 

“Yea, she’s a lightweight. She has one beer and she’s done.” Jewels laughed. 

“I think I’m gonna drive them home. Can you help get her to the car?” he asked Jewels. 

“No!” you tried to scream but it came out as a whine. Charles carried Logan like a baby and Jewels threw her arm around you, holding you up as she dragged you to the car. 

“Baby, you can’t stay here this drunk.” she laughed. “Charles is gonna take you home.”she told you as she put you in the backseat next to Logan. You tried to keep your eyes open to see where he was taking you but your eyes were so heavy , becoming like lead, drooping until you were asleep. 

“Wakey, wakey, Y/N.” Charles’ voice sounded like he was talking under water. “Wakey, wakey.” 

“L-Logan…” I managed. 

“That’s so sweet.” Charles made a tsking noise. “You know, when he woke up he called out for you too.” Charles’ figure cleared in your vision and you could see his curly brown hair again. 

“Wh-” you thought you’d vomit for a second. “Where is Logan?” you took extra long to blink. “Where is he?” 

“In the corner.” Charles said, not amused. “He doesn’t matter.” Charles glanced over at Logan, who’s body was slumped in the corner with a busted lip and a cut on his forehead. “It was you the whole time, Y/N. It’s always been you.” he whispered. “I’ve been watching you for so long.” he touched your hair and you struggled against the chains that held you up from the ceiling. “I killed those people for you.” he said slowly. “I’ve been protecting you. I-I know-” he laughed softly. “I know you don’t like violence and all that but that why I had to be the one to do it. You’re always so nice to everyone and that’s what I love so much about you, but you never take initiative.” he shook his head. “You have to go for what you want, you know? Or you’re never going to get it.” 

“Why are you doing this?” you cried as he continued to pet your hair. “”Let us go.” 

“Why would you want to go?” Charles asked. “You’re home, don’t you see? I built a house for you in the country, just like you wanted. A little cottage int he woods where no one will ever find us.” 


“What do you want from me?!” he screamed, yanking your hair back. “I’ve given you everything!” You knew what you had to do, you’d read about it before in a book. Playing along with his fantasy was the only way for you to stay alive, the only way for you to get Logan out alive. 

“Ch-Charles…” you stuttered. 

“I know, I know, I’m sorry. I- I didn’t mean to shout at you.” he sighed, pulling you to him by your torso, the chains clanking. 

“It’s okay…” you tried not to let him hear the desperation in your voice. “Charles, you know, we can’t be a-alone while Logan is here, you know? Why don’t you let him go?” you asked. 

“Oh, honey…” he waved moved over to a table on the other side of the room. “I knew you’d say that. So I’ve already thought through it all.” 

“No, don’t hurt him.” 

“You need to see this… You need to see how you get what you want.” 

“PLEASE!” you screamed, pulling against your chains. “PLEASE DON’T HURT HIM!” Charles wasn’t phased, though. He calmly turned around with a knife in his hand.

“Screaming and crying won’t do you any good. I know you think he’s your friend but he was keeping us apart, Y/N… I can’t just let that slide because you think you care about him.” 

“I do care about him! He’s my best friend, please!” you might as well have been talking to yourself. Logan was restrained differently than you were. Where your chains held you in a standing position, Logan’s held him to the ground. 

“It’ll be quick, I promise.” he said sincerely as he placed the knife to Logan’s throat. As if that weren’t bad enough, Logan was just beginning to wake up. 

“Y/N?” he croaked. “Wha-” That was it.

You grew up with Logan in a small southern church town, where the two of you were put down daily for being yourselves. You were all he ever had and he was all you ever had. He moved with you to New York City when the two of you graduated high school and you moved into the same building, right across the hall from each other. He was your best friend and the only family you’d ever had. And there you were watching him choke on his own blood. 

Your legs gave way under you and you let yourself fall, your weight yanking your arms painfully as you dangled from the ceiling. 

“I’ll give you a little while…” Charles kissed your head on his way to the stairs in the corner of the room. You were crying too hard to care. Your heart was in your throat and you heaved sobs, crying out his name over and over. If you’d just listened to him when he said he wanted to leave… 

“Logan!” you screamed. “I’m so sorry, Logan! I’m so sorry!” you cried until you went hoarse and there was no energy left in your body. There was no fight. Charles could’ve come down those stairs at any moment and done whatever he wanted, you didn’t care. He’d taken away your will. Your hope. 

You let your legs go limp under you and you were hanging from the ceiling by your chains. You’d almost passed out when a hand covered your mouth and an arm wrapped around your entire body. Seeing Logan’s blood covering the floor again brought everything back and your struggled against the body behind you.

“Shhhh… My name is Spencer Reid,okay? I’m with the FBI. I’m gonna get you out of here but I need you to be very, very quiet.” he lifted you off the ground and you stood up while someone else used bold cutters to cut your chains and you fell into him. He hugged you tight for a second before he put his arm under yours and guided you up the cellar stairs and into the moonlight and fresh air, through a horde of cops and FBI agents who all seemed to blend in together. All looking like they’d seen too much. There was an ambulance waiting for you and the new agent let you fall onto the bumper off it before turning to go away but your gripped his blue shirt tight and pulled him back, tears washing dirt off your cheeks in streaks. “Please don’t leave me.” you begged desperately. “Please.” you choked on sobs. 

“Okay…” he soothed, pulling himself up into the ambulance.