nice subject change

“Excuse me?!” You demanded, gaping over at Dean. He was sitting at one of the library tables skimming through a book and drinking tea of all things, that red shirt making him even more attractive than usual. Not that you’d ever tell him that. Especially not when he was a demon.

“You heard me,” he said, not bothering to look up from his book. But you weren’t sure you had. You were pretty sure you were hallucinating or something, because you had to have heard him wrong. He definitely never could have possibly said-

“Alright, I’ll repeat myself. I said stop staring at me like that unless you wanna take things into my bedroom.”

Yeah. That. He couldn’t have possibly said that.

Looking at you like- like what?” You stammered, trying to keep it together. Dean sighed and finally looked up at you, letting his eyes flick black because he knew it freaked you out.

“You’re giving me that fuck me look, sweetheart.”

“I absolutely am not,” you protested, aghast. You’d barely even looked at him, trying to be so careful not to admire how his shoulders stood out in that shirt, the way his hair shone softly in the bunker lights, the stubble you could see on his face even from across the room…

“Are too,” Dean said, raising an eyebrow at you. Just that, plus a smug little grin had you blushing hard and looking back down at the pile of books in front of you.

“I am not,” you repeated angrily, crossing your arms over your chest as Dean sipped at his tea, “and since when you drink tea of all things?”

“Nice change of subject,” Dean noted, nodding a little before setting his cup down, “and Crowley got me started. It’s good, you should try it. Less heartburn than with the coffee.”

“No thank you,” you muttered, pointedly flipping a page. 

“You know,” Dean said, and when you looked up again, he was suddenly right in front of you, leaning across the table, “I may have lost some of my moral compass, but I’m still Dean.”

“No you’re not,” you said quietly, staring right back at him. That was what you and Sam had decided: show him no fear. If you weren’t afraid, he had less power over the two of you. 

“Sure I am. I’m still Dean. Just more… fun,” he said with a wide grin as his eyes went all black again. You suppressed a shudder and swallowed hard, trying not to think about the possibility of sex with Dean the demon because that was completely off-limits. 

“Come talk to me when you’re human,” you managed, though your voice sounded strained even to you. That made Dean laugh, tossing his head back as he made his way back over to his seat.

“Tempting, sweetheart… tempting…”

Submitted by @girliciousdreams AND @sgarrett49

anonymous asked:

AU Where Phil's football teammate's annoying baby bro grew up and oh no! turned hot.

Part of this story is below a cut

“Just so you know, my parents have taken in another kid,” Nick stated as they walked home from practice towards Nick’s house.

Phil nodded.  Everyone knew that the Furys took in a kid for a few months every year. Phil had gotten rather use to the string of faces that were Nick’s temporary family members.

“He’s little odd,” Nick added.

Phil arched an eyebrow at Nick.  "Odd?“

“You’ll see.”  Nick sounded resigned to this.

“When did he move in?” Phil asked.

“Friday night, why my parents weren’t at the game.”

Phil nodded.  "Sucks.“

“Yeah, but…” Nick shook his head. “Kid needed us.”

Phil smiled slightly.  "You’re starting to sound like your parents.“

Nick groaned. “I know!”  His head rolled forward in shame.

Chuckling softly, Phil let the conversation drop into other things like their first calculus test coming up.  It wasn’t long before, they were climbing the steps to Nick’s porch and entering his house. Phil set his gear down.

“Mom, Clint, I’m home!” Nick called out.

“There’s some fruit on the counter if you’re hungry,” Nia called from her office.

Phil left Nick behind him and headed toward the kitchen.  It had been far too long since lunch and food sounded good, before Nick and him started to study.  He entered the kitchen, his focus on the food, but paused feeling like someone was watching him.  He hadn’t heard Nick’s footsteps behind him.  He glanced at the table, expecting to see Nick’s new foster brother seated at it, but it was empty.

Phil grunted softly, grabbing a piece of fruit and going to open the fridge door.  

“Gaah!” Phil fell back as he finally spotted Clint, sitting on top of the fridge watching him.

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Chaos and Adventure (ME Fic)

I was @qbert0​‘s Holiday Harbinger gifter, and wanted to write something to go with the dice bag. You mentioned that you liked fShep/Liara and Garrus/Tali as a secondary pairing, that you enjoyed the whole gang’s adventures in the Citadel DLC, and requested no heavy emotional angst, so I tried to write a bit of fluff that captured some of those themes. It was a fun piece to write and I hope you enjoy it!

Post-game, ambiguous as to ending but Shepard is alive, pretty much pure fluff.

Judging from the length of the line outside, the rebuilt Ryuusei’s Sushi Bar was even popular than the old one. Even in civvies, Shepard was quickly recognized and waved to the front of the line. Liara had wondered if she would prove to be on some sort of restaurant blacklist, but if the maître d’ was aware of Shepard’s role in the demise of the sushi bar’s previous incarnation, she gave no sign. “Welcome, ma’am, Ryuusei’s is honored to have you,” she said smoothly. “This way, please, the rest of your party is waiting for you.”

Liara took a moment to look over the place. The renovation had been extensive (and doubtless expensive). Fish swam contentedly below her feet, unaware of the tragic fate of their predecessors. The wood paneling was carefully aged as if to suggest that the restaurant had been in continuous operation for decades, and certainly had not been invaded by mercenaries or swarming with Reapers at any point.

The maître d’s brow was furrowed in a look Liara had learned to interpret as impatience. She fell in beside Shepard as they made their way across the restaurant. Garrus Vakarian gave a quick wave from across the way – of course, he had spotted them first. Tali’Zorah’s attention appeared to be completely absorbed by the “NEW Dextro Menu!” in her hands, but she quickly glanced up as the maître d’ pulled out Shepard and Liara’s chairs.

“Shepard! Liara!” she said. “It’s so good to see you!” Liara didn’t need to be able to see Tali’s face to know that she was smiling. “It’s been too long.”

“Well, if some people could tear themselves away from their homeworlds more often…” Shepard said teasingly.

Garrus spread his hands. “You know how it is, Shepard,” he said ruefully. “One meeting after another, datapad after datapad filled with decisions to be made… It’s enough to make a turian think about resuming his vigilante career. I’d have thought the Reaper advisor would be, eh, off the hook with the Reapers gone…”

“Ah, ah!” Tali waved a finger in mock indignation. “No Reaper talk.”

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anonymous asked:

I'm not feeling very good about solo Harry. He's absolutely being pushed as the next great superstar and the main focus of his campaign seems to be rebirth & leaving the band behind. Sony is getting everything they ever wanted. It's not a good feeling. Not at all.

It seems like Columbia is pushing that the band is broken up as part of its rebrand for Harry. That’s what the GP is familiar with, after all, the Justin Timberlake model, and separating Harry from the word “boyband” is a goal of his rebrand. Of course it doesn’t mean that the band isn’t getting back together, just that the GP will be more willing to accept that line of thinking because it’s more familiar and believable to them than The Beatles model. This is much easier for Columbia to sell, and neatly coincides with their desire for there to not actually be a continuing One Direction.


A/N: I went and watched this movie yesterday. Let me tell you, I had the entire theater to myself and I was yelling at the screen. It was a damn good movie though, despite it being nothing like the book, and I enjoyed every minute of it while also dying on the inside because it was nothing like the book fucking hell just, uh, fuck. And then this happened because I had movie feels… It’s pretty much going by the movie since it was fresh on my mind. 

No spoilers yet, but that’ll change later on.

You were Ava Paige’s secret weapon. She had a plan for you and you were listening to her every word like the good soldier you were meant to be, even if you hated her guts.

“Y/N, do you understand what you are to do?”

You nodded your head obediently, “Yes.”

“Repeat it.” She ordered in her strict tone of voice as she made her way to stand in front of you.

You stood up a little straighter, gritting your teeth as she got in your space, “Make friends with the Gladers when they arrive and get them to trust me.”


“And, make them believe that I’m on their side by helping them escape this place. Then,” You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, clenching your jaw as you opened your eyes again to look past Ava’s shoulder, “stay with them, make sure they get through the scorch, and wait for further instructions.”

“Good girl.” Ava nodded proudly and turned to walk back towards her desk, “You should get some sleep. They’ll be here in a few hours and you’ll need to be at your best to fool them.”

You gave a short nod and turned to walk out the door, fists clenched at your side. You wanted to disobey her, to spit in her face and tell her to go fuck herself, or something much more drastic, but you couldn’t. You walked down the hallway with a few guards flanking you, cursing yourself for being so weak. They pushed you into an unfamiliar room and then you couldn’t hold your anger in anymore. You threw things to the floor and punched the concrete walls over and over again. Ava Paige was able to get your blood boiling faster than anyone you knew, besides Janson.

You fell asleep an hour later up against one of the far walls with bloody knuckles.

You were awoken by a loud banging on your door and then the sound of several people barging into the room. You were on your feet in attack mode as fast as you could manage, wild eyes roaming the large room and landing on a small group of boys around your age stood in front of you with different facial expressions.

“Must be from another maze like those other kids we saw a little while ago.” Someone mumbled from the group.

One of them, the one you knew as Thomas, stepped forward with outspread hands as if he was calming a wild animal, “Uh, hey, you okay?”

You shook your head slightly to clear your thoughts and the nightmare that had plagued your sleep last night, straightening up a little and crossing your arms, “M’fine. Scared me is all.”

“Sorry about that, uh, my name’s Thomas, I guess we’re sharing a room?”

You nodded shortly before looking around at the mess you had made, “Sorry about the mess, got a little pissed off last night.”

A huff of laughter brought your attention to a tallish Asian guy standing behind Thomas, he caught sight of your knuckles and whistled, “You must’ve been pretty pissed off.”

You shrugged indifferently, “Plenty of reasons to be pissed off.”

Another boy stepped forward and reached out a hand, he was a bit shorter than the others, “Name’s Newt.”

You glanced down at the hand for a second before reaching out to grasp it in yours, “Nice change of subject. I’m Y/N.”

“Sorry about Thomas’s rudeness, shuck-face isn’t the best at talking to girls.” Newt chuckled and let go of your hand to gesture at the other boys, introducing each of them.

You watched them all pick out their bunks and get situated, not that it would last long. You had to get them to trust you and then you had to convince them that this place wasn’t what they thought it was. And then you’d help them escape and keep following the orders you had been given.

Part 2

Secret Santa

Okay, this idea totally came from bae @soldierboy-owen, who suggested all the doctors of Grey Sloan doing a secret santa exchange in which Owen cheats to make sure he gets Amelia. A little holiday fluff. It’s never too early for a Christmas drabble.

Secret Santas were stupid. They were stupid and hard and she didn’t like them at all. A few times she had conceded, thrown her name in at St. Ambrose or Seaside Wellness, and every time she wound up with a receptionist she barely knew. And then there was that spending limit that was always far too low for any decent gifts that she never knew exactly how much more to spend. And the awkward reveal was the worst – the absolute most embarrassing piece – when everyone had to pretend like they actually got something they wanted, when no one really did. It was stupid. And yet here she was, standing in the attendings lounge of Grey Sloan Memorial, picking a name from a ball cap like this was actually not one of the most annoying holiday traditions ever.

Swirling her hand in a circle above the cap, two fingers clamped together to retrieve a single folded slip. The moment of truth. Come on! Owen or Maggie or Callie! Hell, even Arizona or April would be easy enough, just– – –

Amelia frowned. Again. “Can I pick again?” she tried, but the request was ignored. Stuck. Well that was great. Just freaking great. How did she let them talk her into this!?

“What the hell am I supposed to get Alex Karev?” she whined, pouting against Owen’s arm as they wandered back into the bustling halls of the hospital. “I mean, what does he even like? Besides hot residents and fixing babies. I can’t exactly bring him either of those. Pretty sure it’s not in the budget.”

Her response was just a laugh and, “You’re creative. You’ll think of something.”

“Helpful,” she deadpanned, then let out a dramatic sigh. Tapping her fingers against the sleeve of his lab coat, a moment passed before an idea struck. With a wide, cherubic grin, the younger woman stared up at him. “Or, we could trade. You’re a man! You’d be way better at shopping for Karev. Come on, who did you get?”

But he just smiled. “It’s called secret Santa, Amelia. It’s a secret.”

The smile dropped. “Seriously? Owen, this is me you’re talking to. We don’t keep secrets, remember?” That promise was now being taken entirely out of context and twisted around for her own selfish motives and she couldn’t bring herself to genuinely care.

“We do for this,” he returned, breaking free from her hold as they reached the elevators to go their separate routes. “You’ll figure something out.”

Figure something out. Amelia huffed. She didn’t want to figure something out. She wanted another selection.

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You Had Your Chance

I wrote this imagine about the beautiful Michael Clifford. Hope you guys like it!



Requests / Questions

Best Friend’s Blog


You smile at the picture of your fiancè you had by your bed.

He constantly was away, on business trips and such. He had promised the wedding about 3 months ago, but it was prolonged due to a ‘project’ or something.

You place the photo back on the nightstand, then get into your large, lonely bed. After watching a few infomercials you finally drift off to sleep, but soon the doorbell wakes you.

Slowly, you put your slippers and robe on, rubbing your face with your hands as you make your way to the door.

Checking the peephole, you see bright hair, and know it’s Michael.

“Mikey? Do you know what time it is?” You ask, opening the door, then gasping as you see him.

“I know, I’m sorry.” He begins to apologize, but you ignore him as you grab his arm and pull him inside.

“Michael, what happened?” You ask, leading him to the bathroom.

“I don’t know. I was on the rougher side of town, at the record shop I love, and all of a sudden these guys just jumped out and attacked me. I blacked out for a little while but then finally woke up. I’m sorry I’m bothering you right now, but the only other person around here that I know is my mum, and she would freak out, so I just kinda came here.” He explains.

“Don’t apologize. It’s perfectly fine! Come here and sit. Are you okay?” You lead him to the closed toilet as he mumbles a ‘yeah.’

“I’m going to have to clean you up.” You tell him, inspecting his wounds.

“No, that’s okay. Go back to bed with Chris. I can handle this.” He says, mentioning your fiancé.

“He’s gone.” You look down, pretending to look for a cotton ball.

“Again?” He asks, eyebrows raising for a moment before they drop back down in pain.

“Don’t hurt yourself more. But, yes, again.” You answer, putting the cotton ball onto the alcohol and swishing it around to coat it.

“(Y/n), you’re always alone.” He shakes his head.

“Michael, let’s focus on you right now, yeah?” You smile, trying to nicely change the subject. He takes the hint and nods.

You walk over to him and gently place the cotton ball on his face, but he quickly jerks away.

“Shit, that stings!” He yelps, slapping his hand to his face to cover up the marks.

“Mikey, come on.” You plead apologetically, trying to get his hand off of his face.

“No! That hurts!” He sassily protests, giving you a look.

“Well, you can’t sleep on my white sheets if you have blood all over you!” You return, annoyed at him.

“Fine then, I won’t!” He purses his lips at you, acting like a child.

“Michael, come on.” You roll your eyes, straddling him and sitting down. You grab his hand and pull it off of his face. You quickly place the cotton ball on his bleeding cuts because you don’t know how much longer until he flips you off.

He’s giving you an extremely shocked look, and you just smirk, grasping his wrist tighter and delicately dabbing the wound.

“We’re almost done.” You give a small, apologetic smile.

“Okay.” He quietly murmurs.

You reach behind him to get a bandage but the way that you were sitting on him made you press together, chest to chest. His breath hitches as you accidentally grazed the side of his neck as you grabbed the package of band-aids.

You unwrap the bandage, your heart bubbling in your chest.

You gently stick it to the side of his face, avoiding his eyebrow and hair.

“I’m not going to worry about the little ones, okay? I got the big one taken care of.” You delicately slide the pads of your finger down the clean wounds, then onto his cheek. You move the strand of hair out of his face while running your hand through the rest of his hair, your eyes flickering up at him. He looks back at you, eyes full of something unknown.

He slowly leans in, and you don’t stop him.

His lips crash into yours and you suddenly thank God you remembered to put Chapstick on before bed. His lips move passionately against yours, and you reach behind him to lightly play with the hair on the back of his neck.

His kiss takes you to a whole different state of mind. You feel as if you’re soaring through the sky while the rest of the world is below you two, moving and carrying on as usual.

Suddenly, reality hits you - that you’re sitting on a (very attractive) man’s lap, alone in your shared house with your fiancé, who is out on a trip.

You quickly pull back, fear in your eyes.

“Michael, we- I can’t- we can’t do this.” You stutter, standing up and backing away.

“(Y/n), I’m so sorry.” He explains, standing up and reaching to grab your hand. You shake your head no and walk outside of the bathroom and into your room.

You walk to the closet and get Michael a blanket, and when you turn around to leave you bump into his chest.

You close your eyes and try to compose yourself.

“Here’s a blanket. There’s a pillow on the couch.” You hand him the blanket and avoid his eye contact.

“Thank you. I’m really sor-” He begins but you quickly cut him off.

“Nothing happened. At all. I put a band aid on you then you went to sleep on the couch.” You answer, walking him to the door and shutting it without looking at him.

You are an engaged woman. You can not cheat on Chris, who had always been there for you, especially when Michael was off on tour. Michael, your best friend and high school crush, left you and Chris was there. Michael had his chance, and now was not the time to try and get his second one.

You walk into your closet to look at your white, long, wedding dress hanging up. You had picked it up yesterday, and you couldn’t stop staring at it. But this time, it felt different. Instead of looking at it for joy, you were looking at it for reassurance.

You walked back to the bedroom and laid in your bed, and seeing that it was four in the morning, you quickly fell asleep.


You grab a tank top and a pair of workout shorts from your shelves in the closet.

You put your hair back in a headband so that it stays off your face as you go for your morning workout.

You walk through the living room and see Michael, shirtless, on your couch, his face smushed against one side. You smile to yourself and grab a water bottle before putting one earbud in and taking a run around the block.

You return around an hour later, only to find Michael in the same spot. You laugh quietly and slip into the bathroom and take a shower, trying to scrub the sweat, dirt, and guilt from last night off. The shower only washed two of those problems away.

After you get dressed, you grab a t shirt and pair of shorts of Chris’s for Michael.

You walk into the living room and see him peacefully sleeping. Yet again, your memory fails you of your fiancé and you gently rub his back, unable to resist the pull he had on you, even while he was asleep.

“Mikey.” You softly call, watching as his eyelids slowly flutter open and reveal his green eyes.

“Good morning.” You smile down at him, laying the clothes on the couch. “These are some clothes you can borrow. I figured you would want to shower and get the dirt off of you. And one of your cuts opened up again.” You tell him, looking at the dried blood on the side of his face.

He just sleepily nods, getting the clothes and shuffling to the bathroom.

You fold his blanket and put it back in your room before going to make breakfast.

You chop some fruit and grab some Cheerios from the cabinet. You split the fruit in half so each of you have some.

He soon makes his way into the kitchen, Chris’s shorts you bought him for Christmas were hanging off of his waist and the shirt a bit too short for his long torso, showcasing a thin line of his pale skin.

“Here’s some breakfast.” You hand him a plate, reaching to the side and pouring some coffee.

“I’m really sorry about last night, (Y/n).” He finally speaks.

“Michael, we gotta just forget about it.” You sigh, taking a sip of the hot beverage.

“But, (Y/n), I can’t! I tried, but I can’t.” He admits pushing the plate to the side.

“You’re going to have to.” You finally meet his eyes harshly.

“Look me in the eyes and tell me that you felt nothing. Look me in the eyes and tell me that the kiss was not indescribable.” He raises his eyebrows at you.

You open your mouth to, but the moment your eyes meet his, you can’t.

“Michael, I’m engaged. I’m supposed to get married in 6 weeks.” You try to explain the reason for your refusal.

“Until he postpones it back again. (Y/n), you’re alone more than you’re with him. He’s probably fucking that sexy assistant he has behind your back. I just-” He rants before your hand meets his cheek, striking it. His eyes widen as he sits back, completely shocked.

“You will NOT come into my house and accuse the love of my life of cheating on me because you want something to happen between us. Michael Clifford, you had your chance when we were teenagers and I was swooning over you day and night. But you left. You made the decision to leave me. So now, either you can make that decision again, or I can make it for you.” You boom, tears escaping from your eyes, as you point to the door.

“(Y/n), I’m-” He begins but you cut him off by booming “OUT!”

He grabs his clothes and leaves.

You sit on your couch, sobbing, with your phone in hand desperately waiting for Chris to text you back from the message you sent 3 days ago.

Macaroni pt. 8 // Luke Hemmings

Requested; Yes

Summary; Luke is a struggling single parent and you’re his son’s teacher.

(pt. 1 - 7)

“Mum! Mum! Mum!”

Shrieks and laughter echoed throughout the house along with the slamming of doors.

“Come back here!”

You were putting away the dished when all of a sudden Toby barged in with his cute raincoat and rubber boots, coated in mud and rain with grandpa Andy trailing right behind him.

“Oh my-”

“He’s a handful, I turn my back for one second and then he goes off chasing Molly across the backyard.” Andy sighed staring at the sheepish little blonde boy.

“Well then we better get you cleaned up before your dad gets home,” You giggled, taking Toby’s small hand in yours, “thanks for keeping an eye on him Andy.” You laughed as he sent you a glare and walked away, reminding you of Luke. “Okay let’s get you cleaned up before your dad comes home.”

“Okie dokie artichoke!”

“C'mon go get your clothes,” You watched Toby race to the bedroom, “don’t run you’re going to slip!” Of course he wasn’t going to listen, you rolled your eyes as you went to the bathroom to run him a bath. You began to wonder if you’d be able to manage another child.

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In which I have the most infuriating exchange ever
  • other person: did you see frozen?
  • me: YES
  • other person: good! The snowman is gay. The sisters are lezzy. The men are evil or doltish. Notice the depiction of Joan of arc at in the paintings? Notice how violent the women are?
  • other person: It's gay/feminist indoctrination for kids.
  • me: yep it sure is
  • me: the gays are coming for you
  • me: the gays and the feminists
  • other person: Okay---you may be sarcastic but if you see the movie again, tell me what you think of the snowman.
  • me: i love the snowman, he's voiced by josh gad who's one of my favorite people ever
  • other person: Gay?
  • me: nope he's about to have his second daughter
  • me: married to a woman
  • other person: Still a gay character
  • other person: his voice and mannerisms are gay. The sisters choose eachother in the end --she sacrifices herself for her sister instead of a kiss. Of course it was the logical thing but there's still an emphasis on Sisterhood first. The girls are experts at fighting. The boys are evil or stupid. ----How much self esteem do little girls need?? When does the movement stop?
  • me: when people like you stop saying shit like this
  • me: is it an issue that this is a movie about sisters first and not a love story?
  • me: don't we have about fifty disney movies focusing on the love between a man and a woman?
  • me: also are you actually being serious
  • other person: Yes. And so far, no movies supporting peculiar deviant, love. Yes I"m serious.
  • other person: I had to wade through the gays at Disneyland last night. It's a gay bar now.
  • me: you should just come out of the closet, this is getting sad
  • me: i don't know one straight person who sees this much homosexuality in every aspect of life
  • other person: I need to talk to you about knotts when you get off work
Porch talks

Just a small thing I wrote. I hope you like it!

“Would you run from this if you had the chance? You know, just be away from everything and no one knew where you were, would you?” Her voice soft, the waves crashing against the shore. Her head was leaning against his shoulder as they sat on the porch overlooking the beach, in her Rhode Island home.

“If you were with me, then maybe but would it really be worth it? Wouldn’t you miss it?” He wondered, knowing that this wasn’t a topic she was randomly bringing up.

“Maybe the fans and performing but paparazzi and headlines and people wanting to know every detail of my life, that’s something I wouldn’t miss.” She shook her head, his hand holding hers. “I wouldn’t mind getting rid of that.”

“You couldn’t do that to your fans.” He said.

“It’d be hard, but we could just be free without worrying about cameras and magazines and trashy websites. We could do whatever we wanted.” She sighed and he pressed his lips to her head. “You could leave, you know? If you want to. If this is all to much for you.” She lifted her head off his shoulder to look into his eyes.

“What are you talking about, Tay?”

“I’m just saying that I don’t want you to get hurt by this, I don’t want you to feel like you have to stay with me just because you promised or because it’s the right thing to do.” She told him and his heart sunk. Did she really think he was with her because it was the right thing to do? Did she not know he loved her more than anything?

“Taylor, I’m with you because I want to, because I can’t live without you anymore, because I love you, baby. I plan on doing that for as long as you want me to.” He told her, his hands on both sides of her face.

“What about the future, Adam? What if you want kids? I can’t give you that, because I refuse to throw kids into this mess.” She shakes her head and he realizes that this goes deeper than he thought.

“Taylor, if you don’t want kids then we won’t have kids. I have you and I love you and you’re enough and if being with you means not having kids then be it. I love you.” He spoke seriously and she sighed, standing up and walking forward. He watched her for a while before she spoke.

“It’s not that I don’t want them.” She cleared her throat. “I don’t want our kids to have cameras pointed at them from the time they are babies. So I can’t have kids but I don’t want to hold you back. I know you want kids, Adam.”

It had been in her mind ever since he had mentioned that he wanted kids about a week ago. She knew he wanted them for a while now, he had told her but she didn’t know what to tell him, how to tell him that she didn’t want to have kids in the life that she had. She had been so caught off guard when he casually told her as they left Jaime’s house after visiting Taylor’s godson, Leo. She had just smiled at him, lying and telling him that it would be nice, changing the subject as soon as she could.

“Taylor, if you don’t want kids then we won’t have any. But if you do and the reason you refuse to have them is because of paparazzi and the rumors, then we can make it work. If you feel like you really want kids we can do anything to shield them from all this crap, Taylor. We can move to Nashville, you said it’s better there. We can do whatever it takes.” He walked to her, grabbing both of her hands. He wanted her to know how much she meant to him, he needed her to know that he could never leave her.

“There will still be rumors, Adam. I don’t want our kids to have that in their life. I’d feel so guilty if I were to put them in a position they didn’t choose to be in.” A tear fell down her cheek and wiped it off with his thumb. “It wouldn’t be fair to them.”

“This isn’t fair to you. You can’t let them control your life like this. They shouldn’t be able to control wether you want kids or not, wether you get to have a family or not. I’m just saying that maybe all the crap we deal with will be worth if you choose to have a kid. It’s supposed to bring you happiness, babies do that. I see how happy you look with Leo. I’m not trying to change your mind, I just want you to think about every perspective, love. I don’t wanna push you but when the time comes and you think about having kids, just think of how much happiness a child would bring, not what they’ll do to them. They can’t touch us. They can try to do anything but they can’t bring us down.” She buried her head in his chest, wrapping her arms tightly around him and he kissed her head, tightening his grip on the woman he loved.

“If I do want kids, we’ll figure it out, right? No matter what?” She asked him quietly and he pulled away so he could look at her face. He nodded his head and joined their lips together. “It’ll be hard. Everything.”

“I know.” His eyes told her something his lips could never tell. They held a promise, he was promising her that he wasn’t leaving, he was promising her a future. A future that she wasn’t sure what it would be like but a future she would look forward to. “I love you so much, baby.” He whispered.

“I love you more.”

darkly-stark  asked:

Can we pretty please see a continuation of the skinny, dominant Steve?

And an anon also asked:  Top/Dom 1940s Stevie and bottom Bucky and Dirty-talking and the idea of Bucky coming home after a date and telling Steve all the things he wanted to do to that girl while Steve mercilessly reams him~

“Stevie?” Bucky slipped his head in the door, looking across the dark living room. “You up, doll?”

“Ain’t neither of those my name,” Steve said from the bedroom. “Wash the cigarettes out of your hair if you’re going to start in with all that.”

“Brought you a Coke,” Bucky said, locking the door behind him as he came into the room.

“Put it in the ice box,” Steve grumped.

Keep reading

This is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things, Tony.  (part 9/?) (Avengers x reader)

Part 8

“Hey, are you okay?  What exactly were you thinking back there?  You could have gotten yourself killed, jumping in front of Tony like that.”  Steve had pulled you aside, holding you by the shoulders.  His expression was that of concern, but his eyes were the angriest you had ever seen from him.

“I was thinking that my brother was going to kill my husband!” you snapped, matching his anger.  “I panicked!  You are grown men, dammit!  This has to stop!”

His shoulders relaxed, releasing his grip with the realization that you were right, and that both of them had acted childishly.  His hands slowly drifted up and down your arms, trying to calm you as he let out a deep sigh of defeat.  “I know, I know.  I’m sorry, (Y/N).  I just…I don’t know how this is going to play out; I wasn’t thinking, I just wanted to stop him.  And now, I’m not sure how I can lead this team into something I barely understand.  With Natasha missing, and this new…thing helping us, I feel like we’re completely unbalanced.” He stepped back, shaking his head to clear his mind, pausing before looking down at you, “So, what’s going on with you and the Maximoff twins?  Wanda was pretty freaked out when you took that hit.”

“Nice job changing the subject, Rogers.”  Shaking your head, you raised your hands to deflect the conversation that you never really wanted to have.  “Another time, okay?  It’s a very, very long story that I don’t even know the end to.”

His hand slid down into yours, lacing your fingers together to lead you towards your room to gather your supplies and gear for the battle you were about to enter.  When you reached your door, he paused, his open hand resting on it as he considered any other way to do this; any other way that would bring less destruction and less chance of harm to both the civilians in Sokovia and to his team.  More than any of that, he wanted a way to guarantee your safety.  He let out a loud growl when he found none, shoving the door open with a resounding hit.

“Alright, then, let’s go get ready.  It’s gonna be a tough one.”


As the group began to gather and enter the jet, you saw Steve, Bruce and Tony talking quietly, discussing the mission you were about to begin.

“No way we all get thru this.  If even one tin soldier is left standing, we’ve lost.  There’s gonna be blood on the floor.”

Steve glanced up at Tony, “I got no plans tomorrow night.”

“Speak for yourself, mister.”  You walked up behind your husband, putting your arms around him, his hands moving to rest over yours.  “So, how do we do this?”

Tony took a deep breath, “I get first crack at the big guy.  Iron Man is the one he’s waiting for.”  

“That is true, he hates you the most.”  Tony looked back as the Vision walked past, surprised at the unintentional humor of the statement.  You decided then and there that you were going to really like this new guy.

With the team now ready, Tony took the jet out, preparing for whatever you were about to face in Sokovia. The emotions of the group were strong, but chaotic.  You didn’t want to diminish them or interfere; having the adrenaline and desire for action was necessary if you were all going to get thru the fight that lay ahead.  “Steve, I think maybe you need to say something.  I can’t get a good read on them; their emotions are all over the board.  You need to take charge; you need to lead your team.”

He nodded his head, speaking quietly to you.  “Yeah, but how do I do that when I’m not even sure that I can?  What if we really are going to lose people, (Y/N)?  What if one of them is…you?”  He paused, shaking his head in denial, swallowing hard as if to swallow the words that he could barely say.  “I can’t be responsible for that.  I can’t lead this team into a death sentence.”

“Steve, if that’s going to happen, you won’t have control over it.  We need something to keep this team together if we are to have even a remote chance of coming through this.  That really has never been easy for us, you know that.”  You put your hand on his, sending a sense of confidence to him; it was something you had never needed to do for him before, and it made you nervous that of any time, this would be it. “Captain, do your job.”

He stood, pulling the front of his uniform down, setting his jaw, and steeling his resolve while he formulated his words.  You moved to your brother, sensing his overwhelming guilt and anxiety.  The last thing Tony needed was a panic attack, and you knew your only job right now was to protect him.  When he caught sight of you moving towards him. he looked to you with sadness in his eyes, giving you a small but empty grin.  Wrapping your arm around him, you sat on his lap and kissed his forehead, waiting to hear Steve begin.

Tony rested his head against your shoulder, speaking in a whisper, “what was that for?”  

“Because I know you never wanted this to happen, Tony.  We all do. But I want you to know that I’m always going to love you, no matter what you do, okay?”  He nodded his head with a quiet sniffle, keeping it lowered even as Steve spoke.

“Ultron knows we’re coming. Odds are, we’ll be riding into heavy fire.  And that’s what we signed up for; but the people of Sokovia, they didn’t.  So our priority is getting them out.  All they want is to live their lives in peace. But that’s not gonna happen today. But we can do our best to protect them. And we can get the job done.  We find out what Ultron’s been building, we find Romanoff, and clear the field.  Keep the fight between us.”

Steve looked to you, as if to get a bit more strength to finish what he was about to say.  The needing look on his face took you aback, and you gave Tony’s hand a squeeze.  “Ultron thinks that we’re monsters; that we’re what’s wrong with the world.  This isn’t just about beating him.  It’s about whether he’s right.”    


“Wanda, can we speak for a moment, please, before we land?”

Your voice startled her, looking up quickly from her quiet conversation with Pietro.  “Of course, (Y/N), of course.”  She turned her chair towards you, with Pietro looking on from behind her; smiling faintly when you took her hands in yours.

“I’m sorry, sister.  I didn’t mean to be angry with you, I was just being bombarded by so many emotions that they took over my own.  My husband and my brother were fighting, and I just couldn’t stand it anymore, and…” you stopped, your voice catching in your throat; you took a deep breath to clear your mind then looked to Pietro and back to Wanda.  “Can you please forgive me, both of you, before we go into a battle that we may not return from?”

Pietro now put his hands on top of yours, joining with his sister.  “My love, we will always be together.  And there is nothing to forgive.”

Steve stepped behind you, resting his gloved hands heavily on your shoulders.  “It’s time.  We’re here.”


Early on in the activity, it was starting to look like you were going make this evacuation work after all.  People were following the directions set into their minds by Wanda, and the streets were becoming more and more empty.  You were with Steve on the bridge, helping to direct people across and away from the city, when Tony flew above you, heading for the church.  You stood motionless as you looked to the sky to see him pass over, not reacting when Steve ran up to you, grabbing your hand.  “He’s gonna be okay, you hear me?”  

“Yeah…I hear you.”


Come to confess your sins?”

Ultron’s voice in your earpiece was deep and menacing, and it sent a chill through you just as it had that very first night at the party.  If anything happened to Tony, it would break you to hear it happen, but you couldn’t pull yourself away.

“Uh, have you been juicing?  You’re looking…I don’t want to say ‘puffy’…”           

“Oh, Tony,” you groaned, “now is not the time.”

You’re stalling to protect the people.”

“Well that is the mission.  Did you forget?”

“I’ve moved beyond your mission.  I’m free.”  

You kept the civilians moving as fast as they could as you tried to keep some focus on what Tony was saying.  Steve was doing the same, exchanging looks with you as he held his breath.  You just needed Tony to give you a little more time; to stall Ultron for as long as he could, but it would prove to be no time at all.

“This is where you end, Tony.  This is peace in my time.”  

The ground opened up beneath you, filling the streets with Ultron’s drones, and all hell broke loose. You could hear Vision as he made his move on Ultron, sealing him out of the internet.  For just a fleeting moment, you thought maybe you would have the upper hand now, but that moment didn’t last long.

“You shut me out!  Do you think I care?!  You take away my world, I take away yours.”  

The ground shook violently beneath you, and you lost your balance, grabbing onto Steve.  “Oh my god, what is he doing?”  Your eyes widened as you both watched the ground crack all around you, crumbling buildings falling away as the ground you stood on began to rise.  Civilians began to scream and run in every direction, but the two of you were frozen in place, and now the ominous voice seemed to come from everywhere.

“Do you see the beauty of it? The inevitability? You rise, only to fall. You, Avengers, you are my meteor. My swift and terrible sword and the Earth will crack with the weight of your failure. Purge me from your computers; turn my own flesh against me.  It means nothing! When the dust settles, the only thing living in this world, will be metal.”

Part 10/Final Chapter