should i even tag this anything

Against the Odds

Inspired by this photoset and the fact that I spent half my morning writing about baby clothes. Just a short AU for “Per Manum”. 

Tagging at @today-in-fic

“It didn’t take, did it?”

Mulder has spent hours trying to come up with the right words for each outcome. He walked through her kitchen as if taking inventory. As if the fact that she owned three sizes of coffee cups meant anything at all, made any kind of difference. The last hour he spent here, on her couch. A familiar spot. The lumps and indentions fitting his body perfectly as if he belonged there. So he stayed. Stayed and let his thoughts run wild. There were only two outcomes. Two. It’s either one or the other; success or failure. Whatever news she carried with her, though, he knew he needed to be prepared. He fell asleep halfway through thinking up his speech for when it didn’t take. He didn’t even get the chance to consider the idea that it might have worked. Still, Mulder dreamed of blue-eyed babies with auburn hair that laughingly called him daddy when he heard the click of the door, the rattle of the lock.

He’s barely awake, his thoughts trying to cling to the child in his dreams. It waves, runs away. Mulder gets up, tries to put on a smile. His heart beats far too quickly, but he knows he can’t get his hopes up. Hopes that shatter the moment his eyes find Scully’s. Tears. It’s all he sees. It’s all he can think about.

“It didn’t take, did it?” He’s never wanted to be wrong this badly. Tell me I’m wrong, Scully. Tell me, tell me, tell me. He blinks, hopes there are no tears. Not yet. This is about her. This was her dream first. Scully sniffs once, glances at him. All the words he came up with earlier, right before he fell asleep, they’re gone. Vanished like the little blue-eyed child.

“It worked.” So lost in his own disappointment, in his quest to find the right words to comfort her, he doesn’t hear it at first.

“What?”

“It did take, Mulder. I’m pregnant.” The tears remain, but her lips curl upwards. She’s not crying because she’s sad. She’s crying because she’s happy. She is pregnant. There’s a child growing inside her, part her and part him. The words register slowly in his brain. The child runs back to him, giggles, calls him a silly daddy and he grins at Scully. He didn’t have time to come up with anything to say if it did take. There is nothing to say. Who is able to put joy into words, anyway? Instead he engulfs her in his arms and she squeaks; a sound he’s never heard before and that he instantly falls in love with. He holds her so tightly against him that there’s no telling where she ends, where he begins. Her tears dry against his neck, against his shirt and she clings to him just as desperately.

“There are still so many things that could go wrong, Mulder-” As much as he doesn’t want to, he loosens his grip on her so he can look into her eyes.

“We already beat the odds, Scully. We already beat them.”

“We?” The word doesn’t materialize, remains silently waiting on her lips. Mulder doesn’t repeat it, decides to make her understand in a new way, a better way. He kisses her. Takes the question from her mouth and turns it into an answer.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” he reluctantly lets go of her lips and nearly forgets again when he sees her mouth still half open, waiting, glistening with want and need, “I, uhm, have something for you.” He lets go of her to run over to his coat. He searches through it; how it fit inside his coat pocket at all is a mystery to him. The tiny plastic bag rustles and he smiles.

“This is for you. Well, for the baby.”

“Mulder, what if…”

“Nothing is going to go wrong, Scully.” He assures her, but she’s his Scully. She wants to see it, wants to look inside the bag, but she’s skeptical, and scared. Mulder, the grin on his face a permanent fixture, reaches inside and takes out a small piece of clothing.

“Oh my god.” Scully whispers when she sees what it is.

“I had to buy it. I didn’t know – I mean I hoped. I don’t know what I would have done with it had it not… but look, Scully.” Mulder hands her the tiny baby garment. Scully touches it as if it were made out of glass, ready to break any second. He watches as her finger follows the contours of the comic UFO that takes up half the front.

“Mulder.” She whispers, laughs. At least he hopes it’s a laugh.

“I knew he had to have it.”

“He?”

“Or she. I know any child of ours will make up their own mind, but look,” Mulder voice is full of excitement,“ ‘I believe’”, he reads from the baby onesie, “'you’re my favorite human’. I know your – our - child will love you more than anyone else in the world, Scully. And I… well, I share the sentiment.” Scully lifts her head and there is the same look again. The one he misinterpreted earlier. He will never make that mistake again. This time it’s her who closes the distance between them, decides that they no longer need words. They hold on to each other and the small onesie between them, ready for the future.

anonymous asked:

You and that kyzer swap guy should do something together!!!!!! I follow both of you guys,you could have fun doing whatever

oh dear.. uh… Is it even right to tag them for this? I know they are a busy person! and they are having internet issues at the moment. I dont want to add to thier schedule! XDD but its amazing option, but im just not as cool or anything like that like @kyzer-aqueron is. 

But i might as well tag him since this is for him as well… He might be busy so, please dont attack me you guys if he doesnt reply or notice. Its not fair for the both of us. You should really go to him for this sorta thing ah? 

@silentbram hello, you must be new to tumblr! Since you clearly cannot tell, sometimes just mentioning things in a post will make them appear in a tag! I didn’t even tag this as anything that should appear in a tag you would be referring to! If you don’t like something you see, in the future, try one of the following:

1) rolling your eyes, and moving the fuck on with your life and your scrolling
2) blocking me and blacklisting my URL, that way you don’t have to see anything from me at all!
3) be a dick like this again and comment on a post that has nothing to do with you :) thus looking like a total jackass and a childish baby :)

2

SWEETS HALTER TOP: follower’s treat 

Well, this took me forever, but consider this top one of my extremely late 400/ early 500 followers gift! Thank you so much, guys, for the continued support and I hope y'all like it!

  • 21 swatches available
    • colored in my jewel-toned palette and @citrontart‘s neutrals palette 
  • should be base game compatible
  • custom catalog included
  • please let me know of anything funky
  • I do have to note that 2 smalls dots seem to clip at the back sometimes, but it shouldn’t be extremely bothersome

UPDATES:

(Oct. 22): Edited the shadowmap because my OCD was kickin’ in hard, and it was bothering tf outta me. If you even care enough to do so, please delete the old file or let the new file overwrite to update
 
(Oct. 11):
Now tagged correctly


>> Download (simfileshare)

4

Jongin for Esquire Korea 2017 Feb issue

because of all this safe mode nonsense i feel like i should say this; my blog is always safe for work. if some of my posts are marked as unsafe by this new automated system then it’s incorrect. if anything is even remotely nsfw in any sense, i always tag it.

feel free to reblog this if your blog is the same! i know there’s bound to be lots of confusion lately

What Lovers Do: Part 1

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You have a friend with benefits relationship with the Winter Soldier himself: Bucky Barnes. You two have gotten the routine down: wake up, train, mission, come home, have sex, then act like nothing happened. It’s worked for you for a while now. But now that Bucky’s starting to see someone seriously, you don’t know what to do with yourself.

Warnings: implications of smut, ANGST

A/N: I got too excited so I decided to just post the first part today! If you want to be tagged in the series, please send me an ASK. EDIT: Tagging is now CLOSED. 


You and Bucky laid on the bed, naked, sweaty and panting. You just went three rounds of your “bedroom exercises”. You stared at the ceiling still in the post-sex haze.

“I’m seeing someone.” Bucky sais breaking the silence.

You turn your head to look at him, but he continues to stare at the ceiling, “Oh?”

“I think it’s getting serious.”

Your mouth suddenly feels really dry. You knew this would happen eventually, but you figured you’d be the one to break it off. Not Bucky. You wished it was you to find someone. But no. You couldn’t. Not when the guy you just had sex with was the one for you.

“What’s her name?” You looked at him teasingly, trying to hide the pain.

Bucky smiled, “Melissa, but she goes by Mellie.” Bucky turns to you and props his head on his hand, “Y/N, she’s so beautiful, kind, and funny. She knows about my past and she accepts me for who I am. It’s-It’s so amazing. She’s so amazing.”

You have him a small smile, the smile not reaching your eyes, “I’m happy for you, Buck.”

Keep reading

Since @fangsmagicandinspiration made me a fic for one of my sketches, I made a sketch for a different scene in their fic! Maybe were just gonna have an endless cycle of making stuff inspired by the other and end up with a weird game of art/writing telephone lol


Check out their awesome fic here

#takeshiroback2k18

Okay, so first things first: I really don’t want hate on my blog. That’s not what I’m trying to do. Yes, I’m an anti. Yes, I 100% don’t want to interact with sh@ladins in any way possible and I don’t want them on my blog. I completely disagree with sh@ladin ships, especially if they’re shipped by anyone over the age of 18, as it’s predatory and straight up gross.

That aside, antis: We shouldn’t feel afraid of making Shiro content. The fact that many of us do is disheartening! Since many sh@ladins seem to hate on Lance, the fact that we give Lance so much love is wonderful! It is! But Shiro deserves love, too, just like any other member of Team Voltron.

I feel like he’s the one paladin we stay away from, and that’s understandable because of the stigma around making content of Shiro but if anyone SHOULD be making Shiro content, it’s antis.

So here’s my suggestion: We make 2018 the year we take back Shiro, even if only for a little while. We give our Space Dad all the safe love and attention he deserves. Headcanons, Shiro-centric fics, fanart, all of it. I know many of you are probably scared to make Shiro content on your own, and I know a movement seems kinda ‘revolutionary’ but I’m not trying to start a war. I just want to give antis enough of a sense of safety to be able to love Shiro like we should. Because I hate feeling like sh@ladins own the Shiro tag, or Shiro himself, and I hate feeling like I can’t make art of Shiro because someone’s going to assume I’m a sh@ladin or that someone is going to tag it as a ship, or whatever.

I’m not going to let them ruin him for me.

Let me re-interate: This is not a war. I don’t want this to start unnecessary discourse. My intention isn’t hate, it’s to inspire. Please don’t use this movement or hashtag to spread hate. You can do that on your own terms, with your own tags, as I will. I only want positive things coming from this.

Any Shiro content made specifically for this should be tagged ‘#safeshiro’ and/or ‘#takeshiroback2k18’. And please, if you want to/can, mention the tag in the actual post, not just in the tags, so that we can help spread visibility. 

As such, I also have to add: This tag isn’t for sh@ladins, or anyone who supports the idea of ‘respect all ships’/etc. You’ve had Shiro for way too long. This is for antis only, and is something I’d like to stay within the anti side of the fandom. I’m not even going to tag it as anti sh@ladin, or shiro, or anything like that specifically so none of you stumble upon it by accident. You want respect? This is as close as you’re going to get. Stay out of this. If this whole thing bothers you, block the tags mentioned above and block me.

Any anon hate I receive/any discourse added to my posts will be deleted/ignored. I don’t care enough to give any of y’all the time of day. Consider this my passive-aggressive middle finger.

A-Typical April

Originally posted by seekingakumas

Hey guys! It is almost time to celebrate A-typical April ^_^ A chance for all of us to give some love and appreciation to the less popular and celebrated things in the ML universe! There is so much about this show that is great other than just our adorable love square, and while we are still on Hiatus I thought it would be good to take some time and focus on that. ^_^  (This does not mean no Adrien or Marinette, just that the focus of all the works should be on something other than the Love Square.) 

For A-typical April I will be providing a series of both Weekly themes and Daily prompts that you can follow. (And will even have one of those fun visual calendars as well.

Now you CAN do art or fics or gifs or anything else following the weekly or daily prompts (and you certainly don’t have to do all of them!), OR you can show support by finding and kudos and reblogging other people’s works! Take a minute to look through the tags at some Tom and Sabine art, or share a link to a great Julerose or Ninoir fic. So many great non-lovesquare works get glossed over, and this is a wonderful chance to take the time and appreciate them! This show has so many amazing aspects to it that make it what it is. 

Anyways: For now Here is a list of the weekly themes! (Daily Calendar coming soon!)

Week 1: Friendship- There are so many amazing friendships on this show we could honestly spend a whole month just talking about that. 

Week 2: Love- As much as the Love square is great, let’s take some time to appreciate some of the other pairings in this fandom, there is no small list to chose from 

Week 3: Villains- This can include all the akumas, the troublesome adults lurking around (may or may not be plotting an Andre Bourgeois drabble for this week) or even some love for our resident butterfly enthusiast. After all without the villains, we wouldn’t have much of a plot now would we? 

Week 4: Daily Life- we all love the magic and the action scenes, but part of what is fun about this show is the regular day to day interactions between the characters. We get just as excited to see Marinette win a videogame contest as we do to see her face off against an actual giant robot!


That’s it for A-Typical April part 1! Part 2 Coming soon. (AKA probably tonight) 

If you want to participate please feel free to like and reblog this post- also use the following tag-        #MLAtypical  #Atypical April

That way people can track the event! 

For Better

AN: So here is part two to For Worse…Part three should be up….here….and that is the mini series done ^_^ If you have any requests for anything (I’m not fandom specific even though it seem like it lol) and I have heard of it I will write it. @wtfisachoncexx @daniissuchadani @everyartistwas-firstanamateur (I think this is everyone who asked to be tagged if not sorry!


It’s the clicking of the heels that startles them. The assistants and interns find themselves fleeing a little scared when you strut through the halls of Wayne Enterprises, especially when you had a meeting. You had never been one to mess around when it came to business, but these past four months had done wonders for your work ethic. That meant that everyone else was forced to try to keep up with your breakneck pace.

“They’re ready for you, Mrs. Wayne,” your assistant, Lilian, states as she falls into step with you. Even though it’s been months since the two of you had legally separated, it still stung when you heard the name.

“Thank you,” you say taking the folder she hands to you. “In about an hour call the car around, I’ll have to shoot across town for a meeting.”

“In an hour?” She questions flicking through her iPad examining your schedule. “You’ll barley make it back here for the meeting of investors.”

“Crazier things have been done,” you say with a shrug.

“I know it’s just- you’re spreading yourself awfully thin, Mrs. Wayne.”

You stop in front of the conference room, and for a moment you turn and glare at her. It causes her to flinch back a little. “Just get it done, Lilian.”

“Of course, ma’am.”

“Good.”

You take a deep breath before you pull open the door to the conference room. When you enter, the board sits up to greet you. It doesn’t miss you that there is still a body that is slumped over in a chair, snoring quite loudly. You give a polite smile in return.

“Ladies, Gentlemen thank you for waiting,” you say as you walk to the opposite end of the table and taking your customary position at the head of the table. “I’m sorry I’m late.”

“Not at all Mrs. Wayne, we know you’re a very busy woman,” It’s one of the women on the board who says this as she cuts her eyes angrily to the sleeping form of the man not two chairs over. “Working women, have it hard these days.”

The jab doesn’t go over your head, and the decent thing to do would be to curb her anger and assure her that Bruce takes the job seriously, but you don’t feel like being decent.

“We all have to pick up the slack somewhere,” you say with a charming smile.

It gets a few chuckles and brings you a bit of satisfaction at his expense.

“Now that we’ve had a bit of fun, let’s get down to business talking about this quarters budget for R&D.”

***

The meeting was over about an hour later, the exact time you’d predicted. Unfortunately for Bruce, he’d woken up about forty-five minutes into the meeting, and found himself completely out of the loop. Lucius Fox had taken the opportunity to take the time to discreetly tell him that you’d convinced the board to expand on the funding for the quarter, not only for R&D, but for the Wayne foundation and a few other requests of his.

You knew this would come back to bite you in the ass, that he’d try to thank you for this. So, you weren’t even slightly startled when he was waiting for you near the elevator.

Luckily for you when the doors of the elevator close, he doesn’t move to stand next to you, he keeps his distance.

“Lucius told me what you did. Thank you,” His voice is quiet and slightly hoarser than what you are used.

“Well you were asleep, and I figured you had some sort of case and needed the tech,” you don’t look at him when your reply. In fact, you know you’d feel a combination of hostility and heartache if you did turn to look at him. Instead you settle on crossing your arms and biting the inside of your cheek.

It’s a long way down from the top of Wayne tower and it gives him a chance to re-gather his thoughts.

“We should go to dinner and talk,” he tries.

“If it’s not about one of the children there is nothing for us to talk about,” you say curtly. “Speaking of which, I won’t be coming by to get Damian for the weekend. I have plans.”

“Plans?”

“A prior engagement. Damian already knows the details so there is no need to worry about having to tell him.”

“Is it date?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“You’re still my wife.”

“Temporarily.”

Its silent in the elevator as the dagger in his heart turns slightly. Had you really been planning on divorce? He been holding out hope that one day you’d come home. That the two of you would be able to talk over and fix things and the family could be whole again.

Since you left, he had been empty. Going through the motions of being Bruce Wayne. A little more attentive when he was Batman, but that was only because he was required to be.

The elevator dings to a stop when it reaches the ground floor, and even from your position you can see the black town car waiting for you.

“Have a good afternoon, Mr. Wayne.”

He doesn’t look up to even watch the sway of your hips as you walk out of the elevator. He can’t bring himself to look up. He’s afraid someone will see the swollen red rim of his eyes, irritated with the tears that he’s holding back.

***

“This isn’t big enough,” you say running a frustrated hand through your hair. “I thought that you said the building was huge.”

The realtor, taps nervously on her tablet. The frown and glare that are focused in her direction have her nervous. She’s likely to lose her job if she can’t please you, and she knows this.

“W-well, ma’am, the owner has decided to only rent half of the space immediately. He’s been burned before by businesses who wanted the space, but couldn’t pay for the entire rent. I’m sure it’s a trial basis, a few months in business and I’m sure that you’ll be able to rent the whole thing.”

You let out a heavy sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose, in irritation. One of the only buildings that wasn’t owned by Wayne Enterprises, some subsidiary, or receiving funding from some sort of Wayne charity, and the owner was being a complete ass.

“Do they know, who I am?” You mutter childishly. “I could by this whole building if I wanted to.”

The mousy girl looks at you with a slightly gaping mouth and she squeamishly rubs her hands together. She fixes her lips to respond, but something catches her eye.

“Oh- “

“I’m afraid, miss, I don’t know who you are and that it’s probably going to be one of my greatest misfortunes.”

At the sound of the voice you turn and examine the man. He’s tall and well dressed in a nearly-black suit. As he nears closer, you can see how handsome he is. His dark hair and pale skin makes the pink of his full lips pop slightly and his brown eyes are warm but hold a fair bit of mischief in them.

“Justin Kang,” he says holding out his and to shake yours. You take his hand and offer your name.

“Beautiful,” he said with a smile and you feel your cheeks flush slightly.

“Mr. Kang,” the realtor interrupts. “She wants all of the space, you should know that she’s more than able to cover the rent.”

“I’m sure she is,” he says as he examines your outfit. “I know Armani when I see it.”

“You have good taste in clothes then,” you say.

“Not just in clothes.”

The flirting cause a bit of a smile to cross your face, “If you knew any better, you’d know a good lessee when you saw one.”

“True,” he says with a shrug, “But Gotham is dangerous, I’m sure you’ve been told that I was scammed before.”

“We all have been, in one way or another, just something about this town.”

“Are you trying to tell me something, Mrs. Wayne?”

His smile increases when he sees your eyes widen in surprise. You’d used your mother’s maiden name on your application and you hadn’t even told the realtor your last name, out of fear that she’d show you buildings with his name on them.

“Can you give us a second?” You ask the wide-eye realtor who was gaping at you. She nods and scurries out the building. “Have we met?”

He shrugs and slips his hands into his suit pockets coolly as he starts to pace slightly, “At a party once or twice. Of course, you probably don’t remember, your eyes were glued to your husband that night, like they usually are, or were.”

“Were?” you question with an eyebrow.

“This isn’t the first time I flirted with you, it’s just the first time you noticed, and the first time your responded.”

“Oh,” you say slightly embarrassed. You try to remember the handsome man, but whenever you think about any of the parties that you’ve attended over the years the only face that you can picture is Bruce.

“Nothing to be ashamed of, you were in love with him,” he says nonchalantly. “But it seems like that ship has sailed.”

“What makes you think that?”

“I’m only going to hurt your feelings,” he says with a shake of his head.

“Spit it out,” you say with pursed lips and an arched brow.

“Men like Bruce Wayne can only stay faithful for so long. Even when they have the most beautiful woman in the world right in front of them. They have the want to possess more than they have even if they have whatever they could possibly need right in front of them. They’ll say to themselves ‘It’ll be just this once,’ but once they get a little taste, they’re hooked. The lying, the scheming, the forbidden pleasure, it’s all an adrenaline rush and they’ll keep chasing it. For some men, it’s that thrill with one woman, I think it’s far easier to deal with when it’s multiple.”

“And why is that?”

“With multiple women or men, I don’t judge, it’s just sex. There is no feeling there, no time for an emotional bond to develop. When it’s just one woman he keeps going back to over and over again, there is a bond in that infidelity and that’s where the pain lies.”

You don’t respond, but you swallow thickly at his description.

“You wouldn’t have entertained my flirting if you were still utterly devoted to him. Any educated guesser would say he’s cheated. I wonder what kind of man Bruce is,” he muses looking deep into your eyes like he is reading. “A serial fucker or an emotional cheater.”

“You’re an asshole,” you spit out.

“True, I never said I was a nice guy.”

“Which type of cheater are you, then?” you asked nostrils flared.

“Neither.”

“Neither?”

“I don’t believe in monogamy. It’s not for me. I like sex and I like beautiful people. I offer sex they accept or decline.”

“Is that you are hoping to get out of this situation?”

“I’d be lying if I said no, but that would make you uncomfortable.”

Your heart catches in your chest at the sly smirk that works its way onto his face.

“How about I make you a proposition.”

“I’m listening.”

“I’m willing to part with this build, for half of what I bought it for. At this point it’s only costing me money, and I’m not in Gotham enough to start a business myself here. You however, seem like an ambitious woman.”

“I am, but what’s the catch, flattery will get you nowhere with me if we are talking business.”

“A friend of mind is hosting a benefit Saturday, red carpet, cameras, and a lot of wine. Be my date.”

“I’m not sleeping with you,” you say arms crossed.

“That’s your choice, but I think that you might change your mind when you see how charming I can be.”

A cocky smile works its way across his face and you would have loved smack it off, but you find him interesting. He doesn’t make your palms sweat or your heart jump the way Bruce does, but he’s entertaining enough that you know that if you went with him that you wouldn’t be bored.

On the other hand, you really did have something to do on Saturday and it had to do with why you were trying to rent the building in the first place. This was a perfect place to situate a fashion studio. You’d put your designing on the back burner when you got married, but you were quite famous in your own right for your bold choice in fabrics and colors. It was a dream that you’ve had since you were a little girl, and what you went to school for. You’d planned to spend Saturday sketching new designs, picking out fabrics and starting work on one of your more recently designed products. It was a chance for you to be alone and work on what made you happy.

But going out and having a fun time with a handsome stranger didn’t sound too bad either.

“Alright Mr. Kang, let’s see if you can show me a good time.”

***

He’s stunned, more than stunned when he sees her. He can feel anger pool in his belly and despair cause his heart to drop. The world seemed to stop when he saw the smile spread across her face. The flash of the cameras seemed to cause the glitter embedded into her midnight blue dress to shine like small stars.

She looked gorgeous and it made him angry. Not because she was here, she was a socialite after all and he should have expected her to find her way to one of these events without him sometime. But he expected her to be alone, the same way he was.

There is a flash of a camera in his face and he’s distracted momentarily from your form. He turns and smiles at the cameras, a mask of contentment settled on his face, but his mouth feels dry because of his misery.

“How does it feel to see, your wife here with someone else, Mr. Wayne?”

He doesn’t answer, he never answered paparazzi questions unless there was a reason for it. And he certainly had never answered any questions about his separation before and he wasn’t about to start now.

That didn’t mean that the question didn’t hurt. That it didn’t get under his skin, because everyone in earshot could tell it did by the clenching of his fist, even though he forced his smile wider across his face.

He glances back at the woman and he can only look at her for so long, because he realizes at that moment, she’s not his. The smile on her face tells him that. The hand curled securely in the dip of her waist tells him that. And the laugh the tumbles forth from her lips when her date leans down to whisper a joke in her ear tells him that.

When was the last time he made her laugh like that or made her smile like that? He couldn’t remember and that was a problem.

He walks the rest of the carpet without stopping for anymore photos and heads inside the building with his mind made up to head straight for the bar, this was going to be a long night.

***

He hasn’t let go of her all night and she hasn’t stopped looking at him with stars in her eyes. Bruce wonders if she even is aware that he was watching. He puts the thought out of his mind when the man twirls her and dips her back and she throws her head back in laughter when he brings her back up. There are nearly tears in her eyes from how much fun she’s having. The sounds that she’s making are only possible if she was experiencing pure joy. She wouldn’t fake that just to get back at him.

He lifts his glass up to his lips as he purposefully moves his eyes around the dwindling crowd of people, trying to lose the happy couple. He knows it won’t work, he hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off them when the room was filled to capacity, and so he definitely wouldn’t be able to lose them now.

The alcohol felt like sand when it hit the back his throat, and he knew he was done for the night. He would leave his customary donation with the organizers of the event and he would head home miserably.

Maybe being separated really was what was best for them, for her. She hadn’t been this happy in such a long time and he deserved to suffer for taking that joy from her.

He casts a fleeting glance over at the couple again and this time he manages to catch her eye. She seems surprised to see him and her eyes quickly search the surrounding areas, looking for a date. When doesn’t find one she turns her gaze back to the man with a skeptical eyebrow, but her attention is quickly shifted away from him and back to her date as he presses a kiss to her forehead.

Bruce feels sick at the sight and he must exit the building in the hurry. He couldn’t stay and watch the love of his life be swept off his feet by another man. Especially when he could see how much better off without him she was.

***

You had tried your best not to drink, save for a polite glass of champagne that’d been poured for you when you entered the building, but right now, Justin’s lips were more intoxicating than anything you had in a long time.

Pressed against the wall of your penthouse next to the door, you can feel your body warm from the contact of flesh. A large hand reaches for one of your thighs and pulls it around his waist. His lips move down from your mouth down to your neck and you lean back to give the man access.

Your hands slip down his back digging into his skin as he grinds his hips into yours. His hand reaches behind your back to unzip the back of your dress and time seems to slow for a moment. As his hand slowly pulls the zipper down and he nips at the side of your neck, you feel strange.

A combination of guilt and rolls over you in waves. You feel good, he feels good, but is he the person that you want to be making you feel good? Are you ready for this right now? Suddenly you feel your heart and mind rejecting him as images of you and Bruce in a similar position assault your senses. And though rationally you know there is no reason to feel this way because the circumstances that brought you to this situation, you realize that you aren’t ready to be touched this way by someone who isn’t Bruce, let alone someone who is practically stranger.

“S-stop,” you whisper as you pull your arms away. “I can’t do this.”

The man halts his ministrations and pulls his face back from your neck and meets your gaze with furrowed brows, “Did I hurt you?”

“No,” you say with a shake your head as you rest your hands on his chest.

His grip on your thigh loosens and your free to let the leg fall back down to the ground.

“I’m not ready for this yet,” you say looking up at him. “I thought I could but I can’t, but it’s not your fault.”

He looks at you for a moment eyebrows still furrowed. He takes your chin gently in between his fingers and he stares directly into your eyes. When he’s satisfied with whatever he finds a smirk crawls its way back over his face. “You’re looking right through me once again.”

“What?” you question as he backs away from your form and begins to straighten out his suit.

“I should have known that one look from him would have you head-over-heels again.”

You feel your cheeks flush in embarrassment as you straighten your gown but you don’t deny the allegation. You had been surprised to see Bruce at the party, and admittedly felt a shock of excitement shoot through your veins when you saw that he was alone. Just him showing up had shifted your entire mood and even on the car ride home, where you and Justin had been engaged in a heated exchange of kisses, you weren’t able to get his blue orbs outs of your mind. In some ways that made you angry, if you couldn’t forget about him after you’ve separated, why was he able to sleep with someone else while you were together?

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” he says wiping his lips with the handkerchief to get rid of the last of your lipstick. “Some people need more time to heal than others.”

“I shouldn’t have lead you on.”

“You didn’t,” he says with the shake of his head as he heads for the door. You follow close behind him to lead him out. “I knew what to expect.”

You give him a smile, “Thanks for taking me out tonight, it was the first time I felt like myself in a long time.”

“You should treat yourself more often, so you can learn what makes you happy. It’s the only way that you’ll get better.”

“I think I found it,” you say and you motion over your shoulder to the dummy in the middle of the living room that has pieces of fabric attached to it.

“Oh, that reminds me,” he says slipping his hand into one of his pockets. He pulls out a ring of keys and lays it gently into one of your hands. “My gift to you.”

“Are you serious?”

“As a heart attack,” he says with a shrug. “It’s just a building. If there was one person I could have settled down with it would have been you. You gave me the gift of being able to see what it would have been like to be with you tonight, so if I can give you something that I know will make you happy in return, I have no problem doing it.”

You blink at him with wide eyes and you feel a blush roll over your cheeks at his confession, “That’s very sweet of you.”

“No, it’s selfish, I’m holding out hope you divorce the asshole so I can have an actual chance.”

You chuckle, “Maybe your right. Someone like you may be better for me after all.”

“It possible.”

You walk him out to the elevator and when the doors open and he walks in he gives you a wave, “Come find me when your single, Mrs. Wayne.”

correction of my previous post: there’s two of them now

4

In which Kate is literally us, and Emily actually resorts to the “hey, what’s that over there?” diversion tactic [and I’m cackling in the distance]

Hey guys,

Please go see The Greatest Showman.

You will have zero regrets.

It’s gorgeous, sweeping, emotional, grounded, soaring, inspiring, glittering, and gorgeous.

I will not write an essay review on it here, at least not yet. But this film is beautiful, regardless even of your opinions on musicals or circuses.

With all the major motion pictures I’ve been able to see this year, this is definitely at the top.

A masterpiece, and thoroughly satisfying down to your bones.

This is how movies should be made.

theycallmeskizze  asked:

Can you give me a Villain! Rumlow going on dates with (kidnapping) Tony and the Team not being supportive even though he starts assisting Iron Man on the field and practically lives in the tower Maybe post CA:CW for the angst?

Brock and Tony? Why, of course, darling! I will always support this pairing!

Btw this is my 1000th Post!!! So of course I had to make it a little longer :) I even managed to add in some light bitter Sunday-ness, but I kept it very light, mostly just focused on Tony moving on. I think you should be able to enjoy this no matter how you stand on the CW fallout, but let me know if you disagree and I will tag it accordingly.

Also tagging @darkly-stark and @susieeslei because Brock and Tony.


It starts with one of Tony’s spur-of-the-moment decisions that always end up being either phenomenal or catastrophic, and never anything in between. The vote is still out on this particular one though.

Because Tony is seated in his favourite restaurant when he walks in–more like slams the doors open and pushes a startled waiter out of his way as he strides towards Tony’s nicely decorated table. And just as he’s been served his main course too.

For a long moment Tony blinks up at Brock Rumlow who is positively brimming with volatile determination, then looks back down at his plate. The food, as always, looks delicious.

“Why don’t you join me?” Tony blurts out before he can think better of it.

Rumlow stills, a flutter of what might have been confusion briefly flashing across his face.

“Please, sit down,” Tony gestures towards the unoccupied chair, having already decided to roll with this. He’s not been gutted yet, which can only be a good sign. “My treat of course.” He flashes his brightest smile and–much to his surprise, not that he’ll ever admit it–Rumlow does indeed sit down.

He looks as surprised as Tony which makes Tony feel better about this situation. Resisting the urge to gape–go with it, go with it, totally going with it–Tony turns and waves over the first waiter who crawls out from where he’s taken cover under a table.

“Could you get me another menu, please?” Tony asks with all the nonchalance his life as a public persona has trained into him. “Oh, and another whiskey.” He takes one look at Rumlow who is sort of glaring–or maybe that’s his normal expression, who knows–at the menu and adds, “Make that two.”

Rumlow spends most of the meal glaring daggers at anyone and anything unlucky enough to catch his attention. Tony spends most of the meal expecting a fight to break out any second.

The food is delicious though.

*

From one moment to the next the bar goes silent. It’s Tony’s first clue that something is wrong. The second is the slow, measured footsteps cutting through the silence, definitely, definitely heading in his direction. The third is the one everyone turns in their chairs to stare at him.

Tony refuses to turn around from where he’s sitting at the bar, slumped over an almost empty glass. There is probably a gun aimed at his head by now, but fuck if he cares.

It’s been a shit day long before lunch time got around. Tony is in no mood to entertain anyone, would-be killer or otherwise.

“Want a drink?” he asks, not bothering to look whom he’s offering it too.

Another moment of silence passes, before a familiar voice grumbles “You’re paying, Stark,” and well.

That’s how Tony finds himself sharing a drink with Brock Rumlow for the second time this month. It’s not as bad as it probably should be.

*

It wasn’t supposed to be a thing. Really. Tony doesn’t even realise it’s become a thing until the bartender at his standard I-want-to-disappear-and-not-have-anyone-talk-to-me-the-whole-time-I’m-there bar greets him with a “Your usual?” and fills two glasses.

The worst part is, when Rumlow slides into his seat next to Tony a couple of minutes later, he’s not even surprised.

It has definitely become a thing.

*

Tony likes to think he’s quite good at keeping his private and professional life separated–whether or not the evidence supports this statement is another matter.

In any case, despite Brock Rumlow’s unfortunate status as a villain, meeting up with the man semi-regularly for a drink and a long, surprisingly comfortable silence, has been uncomplicated. Almost suspiciously so. Tony has JARVIS on the look-out for any trap Rumlow might be trying to lay, but so far nothing has come from it.

Tony isn’t about to let his guard down, of course, but for the time being figuring out Rumlow’s hidden motives isn’t a top priority. He’s got more urgent problems. Like that giant, ball of a glibbering, highly corrosive mass currently eating away at this suit. His metal suit. At a disturbing pace. 

If Tony had still been able to move, it might not have been such a big problem. He probably could’ve gotten out of this whatever-it-is before the acid reached his fleshy parts. As it is, the suit is down. So is the communication. And Tony is effectively trapped.

It’s not the kind of death he would’ve wished for himself, but genius or not, he’s rapidly running out of time and options.

There is a sudden jolt, and then Tony is flying. He hits the ground hard a moment later, accompanied by a lot of creaks and cracks, the suit far too damaged to bear the weight of the fall the way he usually would.

His suit is little more than a deadweight still, dented and torn open in several places at this point, and it takes Tony a couple of minutes to bend the emergency release lash to his will. Literally. By the time he’s managed to free himself, the battle is finally over, and the rest of his team are looking for him.

Tony brushes them off with a quick and an easy smile. Just another near-death experience, hitting it close but not too close. He’s getting used to that. It’s not a big deal.

Later that night, Tony has JARVIS pull up any and all surveillance data on the fight. Until he finds the hooded figure reaching into the corrosive goo and pulling him out. Until he identifies the gait, the self-made claw-like conceptions used to drag him free.

He deletes all the evidence moments later, a pensive frown on his face.

Two days later Tony buys Brock Rumlow another drink. Neither of them mention the last Avengers’ mission.

*

There’s a dirty spot on the bar, right next to a small bowl of cashews. Tony would know. He’s been staring at it for the past seventeen minutes. At least it hasn’t moved.

A drink is set down in front of him with a soft click. His usual order. Except he’s never been to this place before.

Tony turns around, only to come face to face with Brock Rumlow.

Absently, Tony notes that he’s not even surprised.

Still. He raises a questioning eyebrow.

There’s no ‘Sorry your team is broken beyond repair’ or ‘Must have sucked to get back from a Siberian bunker without a functional suit, how’d you do it?’ or even ‘Fine mess, those Accords, huh? How’re you holding up?’.

All Tony gets is a non-committed shrug, and a grumbled, “Figured it’s my turn to pay the tab.”

Somehow, it’s enough.

*

There’s another mutant kid running around midtown, that wants the world to pay for all the unfulfilled hopes and crushed dreams, for all the times it was scorned and abandoned and left behind.

Tony can relate. He refuses to stand by and let it happen all the same.

Vision and Spiderman are slowly finding their rhythm in a fight, but the Avengers–what’s left of them–don’t hold the same kind of power they used to anymore.

When Crossbones joins the fray, Tony finds himself hoping he won’t have to fight on two fronts. It’s the first time in a while that his hopes are met.

*

Officially Tony can’t turn Crossbones’ help down, whenever Rumlow feels like offering. It burns, just a bit, even now, that for all that it presents a convenient excuse, it’s also true.

Rhodey is recovering, but it’s a slow process, and three players in the field aren’t enough. Especially when you’re on the defence and have civilians to protect.

Unofficially working with Rumlow isn’t bad, not that Tony would ever admit such a thing. Maybe he’s a little too fond of violence sometimes, a little too careless when it comes to collateral damage, but he works well with the team–are they a team yet, when Tony can’t ever bring himself to refer to them as such?–and hasn’t let them down yet.

After one of their less destructive skirmishes, Tony hands Rumlow a transmitter for one of their frequencies–not the official one of course. It’s as close to an induction as they get, with the UN committee for inter- and extra-national security watching them closely.

*

Rumlow settles a lot of their shared tabs these days.

He pays. 

Tony used to check. He hasn’t bothered in a while.

*

The first time Rumlow kidnaps Tony is right after a gruesome battle that almost costs Spiderman his life. He just–takes Tony.

Once Spidey is confirmed to be alive and well, Tony doesn’t even have the strength to fight him anymore.

It’s not as bad as it could have been. There are no evil lairs, to terrified minions, no threats. There’s just a beach–Tony has forgotten how much he missed it, the crashing waves, the smell of salt and water, the wind–no people as far as Tony can see, except for them. They drink iced coffee, and kick sand at each other’s feet, and Rumlow never comments on the fact that Tony doesn’t go deeper than ankle-height into the water.

The public is freaking out. General Ross is frothing at the mouth. Spidey sends a ‘Back at school now will you stop having FRIDAY set my alarm already?’ text, followed by a lot of glaring emojis. 

Rumlow hands him a virgin Pina Colada.

Tony hasn’t felt this warm since Siberia.

*

They come back eventually. His former team mates. It was always going to happen, Tony knows. Eventually. He’s been preparing for this day from the beginning, perhaps even before they ever fought at that German airport.

Doesn’t mean Tony is ready when it finally happens.

Rumlow isn’t there when the plane touches the ground. Tony grits his teeth together and smiles for the cameras.

*

Working together again, the new Avengers side by side with the old ones, goes about as smoothly as you would expect. Which is to say not at all. They’re out of sync, and it becomes painfully obvious the first time they’re sent out together how much it affects them in the field.

They win. Barely.

Tony sends Spidey home before Rogers even has the chance to announce a recap. He doesn’t want the kid around when the shouting starts, and there will be shouting. All of them are too frustrated with their less than stellar performance for a calm, rational discussion.

At least, Tony assumes they are. He’s never gets the chance to find out for sure. Because that’s when Crossbones shows up.

With minions. A lot of minions.

It takes Tony approximately fifteen seconds to work out that they’re a distraction. It takes the rest of the definitely-not-a-team half a minute longer.

By that point, it’s already too late: Crossbones and Iron Man have disappeared without a trace.

*

“You can’t keep kidnapping me every time I’m–” Tony trails off. Can’t quite bring himself to say the unspoken ‘about to be alone with them’ out loud. 

It would reveal too much. Acknowledge too much. Tony isn’t very good at acknowledging what he doesn’t want to be true. Or what he wants too much to be true, for that matter.

“I’m a villain,” Brock–he’s been Brock for a while now, and Tony still isn’t sure whether he likes that or not–snorts disdainful. “I can do whatever I want.”

There’ll be a lot of screaming later. A lot of accusations and rumours and arguments. Of that Tony has no doubt.

He leans a little closer with a teasing smile all the same. “Oh?” He hums thoughtfully. “And what is it you want right now?”

*

The world is a mess. The Avengers are broken beyond repair. Crossbones loves violence a little too much. Brock has a nice smile.

Tony is warm.

*

Tony Stark’s spur-of-the-moment decisions always end up being either phenomenal or catastrophic, and never anything in between. 

Sometimes, on rare occasions, they are both.


Please let me know what you think, guys! Have you boarded this particular rare pair ship yet?

Some things that bother me about the story at this point:

I know I’m so gonna be hated for at least two specific points but I really need to talk about it in order to clear my mind a bit so here we go (contains spoilers of ch. 56).

Keep reading

Eric headcanon: In the bedroom

(A/N) I live! Ahm…so…sorry? I haven’t updated my Eric Fanfiction in a while.. But I soon will! I promise! I will post an explanation later if anyone is interested.
Anyway, this is for @sterek-foreverandever. Thank you for requesting and I hope you like it! :)

I’m just gonna tag the rest too…

@beltz2016
@sammysgirl1997
@magellan-88
@iammarylastar
@scorpio2009
@buried-in-books
@supdarling
@hello-i-dont-have-a-name

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

  • So, I think this is obvious, but he is very dominant in the bedroom
  • He loves to leave love bites and things like that, but don’t even think about covering them up. He uses them to mark you as his, you should feel honoured

  • If he is in the mood, he will prepare his partner and take his time, but if he had a bad day or anything like that, oh boy, prepare for a rough quickie (or six quickies for that matter)

  • You’ll probably be sore in the morning (hot baths help)

  • Since he likes to be rough, he loves it when you pull his hair while he goes down on you

  • He’ll have nothing against a few scratch marks here and there

  • If his partner is a girl, he would love to eat her out but don’t get too excited. He is a tease, he’ll probably won’t let you cum without a lot of begging

  • Semi-public sex is probably no problem for him

  • And don’t wear your favourite clothes or lingerie, he’ll rip them off if he is in a bad mood, and with Eric you will never know…

  • On special occasions (birthday,…) he can be romantic and will also make the sex special

  • Despite what many think of him, he always looks after his partners needs, he won’t cum before his partner

  • And despite his hard looks, he loves to cuddle after sex, but don’t you dare tell anyone!

  • Basically, he is an animal in bed (*wink wink*)

  • Oh! And he will get turned on in the most random and awkward situations, be prepared to help him out