#but this time i did it FOR A REASON and a valid one!!!!! the flip flop dropping slqdhfqsdmlhf

[trippinsorrows]

without you + three

authors note: welp. the ball is, gradually, rolling.

do not read this story if you haven’t read ’with me’. it won’t work as a standalone.

warnings: none

song inspo: be without you by mary j. blige

one + two

words: 4k

“I’ve been thinking.”

“That’s never a good thing.” Removing your eyes from the book in hand, you glare and flip your soon to be ex-fiance off if he keeps playing with you like this. 

Of course, he simply laughs as you shove on Joe’s shoulder.. “I’m serious.”

His hand moves to your stomach, rubbing a circle as he beckons, “tell me.”

Using the bookmark on the comforter, you stick it in the page you’re on and lay it against the side of you. “I think we should take Callie back so she can have her graduation.”

Joe looks over at you, brows furrowed. “I thought we were just going to do something here?”

“I know, and I think we still can, but I don’t want to take that from her. She was really excited about graduating.” It’s something you’ve been thinking about a lot, both as a teacher and a mom. It’s so important for children to feel and be able to celebrate their accomplishments. Sure, it’s only preschool, but it’s still a big deal for her.

You want her to be able to celebrate with her ‘classmates.’

And you express as such.

“She should be able to celebrate with the other kids. Plus, and I know right now, she’s still excited about them, but I don’t know, something tells me she’s going to struggle with some form of jealousy when the babies get here.”

Joe nods, not necessarily disagreeing with you. “But, that’s not entirely abnormal, right?”

“No, doesn’t mean it’ll be any easier to deal with though.” Frowning, it’s only now you also think about how that might be for you as well. For almost five years, you’ve been able to devote all of your time and attention onto one child. 

Now, it’s about to be four.

“Hey.” Joe, forever adept at reading you, brings his hand to your chin, forcing your gaze to land on him. “We’ll handle it together, alright?”

His words, as per usual, comfort you greatly. “You’re right.” His thumb flicks your chin, as you chuckle. “It’s probably good her little spoiled self is spending all this time with you now. Before she has to share you.”

His scowl makes you snort as he drops his hand back to your ever growing belly. “She’s not spoiled.”

“Joe, as the kids say, be so fucking for real.”

“What?”

Ignoring the fact that this man literally probably still has an AOL email with out of touch he is, you continue with your very valid point. “That little girl is spoiled rotten. You give her whatever she wants.”

“She doesn’t ask for much.”

“Not you being in straight up denial.” He’s so down bad for Callie Bear. It’s not even funny. “Need I remind you of her little tantrum two weeks ago? Baby, the way you folded so quickly should have been recorded. Tribal Chief, my ass. Got taken down by a four year old.”

Joe shoves you gently. “Shut up.”

Laughing, you continue, “just admit it, she has you wrapped around her lil’ finger, and she knows it. That’s why she tried you the way she did, but I mean it, next time it happens, and it will, set her little butt straight. She can take it.”

Joe’s frown doesn’t make it any easier for you to hold in your laughter. “I don’t like being mean to her.”

“It’s not being mean, baby. It’s being a parent. As much as she loves to play with you like you’re one of her little friends, you’re not. You’re her dad. She needs to respect you as such.”

“She does,” he defends, and you sigh, knowing this is probably just a battle you won’t win. Quieting down, you decide to switch topics to something you’ve been thinking more about as you prepare for the arrival of your children.

“I’m gonna tell her, you know. When she gets older, that I’m the reason you weren’t there the first few years of her life.”

Joe sits up in the bed, removing his hand from your stomach, concern evident all over his handsome face. “Y/N—”

You lift your hand to silence him. “No, she’s going to eventually ask, and I’m not going to lie to her. Whatever anger she feels would be justified, and I’ll handle it.” 

You’ve thought about this more and more as you progress with your pregnancy. The fact that these babies will get to experience Joe from day one when Callie didn’t. There’s undeniable unfairness, and should she ever want to know just why Joe was MIA at the beginning, you will be honest with her.

You’ll make sure she knows that it was you who decided to keep her a secret from her father. How specific you’ll get will depend on her age, but you’re not a fan of lying to and holding secrets from kids when it directly impacts them.

You know firsthand how thinking your dad didn’t want to be around can fuck with someone’s mental.

You won’t let that be the case with Callie.

Joe looks just as bothered, like he doesn’t want you doing anything that could impact how Callie sees you. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Oh, but I do and will, baby.” You place your hand to his cheek, his beard a little more outgrown and slightly unkempt as he truly relaxes in the embrace of vacation. “Because that’s one thing I never did and would never do. I never let anyone say any disrespectful shit about you not being in Callie’s life. Amir would try it a lot, and I shot him down every time.”

The mention of Amir brings a scowl to Joe’s handsome face. It’s a bit of a distraction technique you’re grateful worked. This will also be a revisited topic over the years, clearly. “I don’t know what the fuck you saw in him.”

Small smile on your face, you shrug, “he’s not ugly, and his dick was decent.” And before he can say anything smug and smart, “yours is better, duh. Why you think I’m giving you all these kids, huh?” He smiles and shakes his head. “You gotta have God tier dick for me to push out not one but gonna be four of your big headed ass children. Boy, I wish you would try to leave me. You gon be wrestling into your eighties with how much I’ll come for you in child support.”

He rolls his eyes and kisses your temple, “you know I’m not going anywhere and neither are you.”

“Of course not, who the hell is gonna want me with all these damn kids?” The topic at hand reminds you of the book on the side of your bed, the previous reason you two were taking a break from figuring out your approach for letting friends and family know about the courthouse wedding. “Now, we really need to start deciding on names. I’m almost five months.” Pretty soon you’ll be finding out the sexes of the babies. It’s crazy to you how quickly this pregnancy is passing by, most likely due to the happiness you feel. 

Time flies when life is good. 

“Did you get Callie’s list?” 

He curses. “Shit, I forgot.”

You wave him off. “No worries.” Sitting further up in bed, you shout out, “Callie Bear! Bring us your list for baby names!” 

She doesn’t say anything, and you start to try again when she comes running into the room, Disney notebook in one hand and her American Doll in the other. She doesn’t hesitate to climb onto the bed and sit on her knees at the end, “here you go, mommy!”

You accept her notebook that’s already opened to her list of potential baby names that she came up with. “Thank you, baby.” Callie switches to sitting with her legs crossed, her doll that looks just like her, courtesy of her rich ass daddy, smack dab in the middle. “Let’s see.”

A smile falls on your face as you share the notebook with Joe, pointing out the first name that he also smiles at. 

“Moana.” Predictable. So predictable. “Maui. Hei Hei. Tamatoa.” Joe coughs beside you to clearly hold in his laugh. “Baby….are these all names from Moana?”

Callie nods happily. “And Toy Story and Encanto and The Little Mermaid,” she essentially continues to sing-song list off damn near every Disney movie ever created. “The babies have to like Disney too, mommy! Like me, you, and Grandma.”

“You’re so right.” To be fair, you really shouldn’t have expected too much more. She is one Disney loving kid, through and through. “Well, thank you so much for the list, Callie Bear.”

“Daddy, did you make a list?” She asks, head tilted as she gently caresses the top of her doll’s head.

“Not yet, baby. Mommy and I are gonna make one together.” 

“I like baby Moana.” 

He chuckles. “But you’re our little Moana.”

She pouts and corrects, “no, I’m Callie.” Her sass makes you laugh. Joe wasn’t entirely wrong. She really is a lot like you sometimes. “I want a baby sister named Moana.”

“What if they’re all boys?”

You and Callie have similar reactions. It’s just that yours is one of horror and hers is more of shock.

“Noooo, I want a little sister.” 

Adding onto Callie’s vehement protest, you make your own strong thoughts and feelings known. “And I am not pushing out three boys at once, Joe. You done lost your god—”

“What do you want for your birthday, Callie Bear?” You’re partially thankful for the save but also irritated he’s asking this question he already knows is gonna generate a wild ass answer.

“A puppy!”

See.

You do your best to use the perfect combination of understanding yet assertiveness. “Baby, we done had this conversation before, we are not getting a puppy until you’re at least ten.”

“But, I’ll be old!”

“Exactly, old enough to take care of a puppy.” One look at Joe, and you can see he’s about to open his mouth and probably find some reason to ‘agree’ with or at least defend Callie’s request. “Absolutely not. No dog until she’s older, and that’s final.”

Callie, understandably, does not agree nor like this rule, and it’s evident in her deep pout and the way she crosses her arms over her little body. “Not fair.”

“Life ain’t fair, buttercup.” You retort, quickly reminding her as you take in her appearance. “Speaking of, it’s almost time for your wash day….”

The infamous, dreaded day of nonstop hair washing and styling is enough to wipe her smile away and award her a brand new reason to start whining, “I don’t want to.”

The feeling is mutual. “Neither does mommy, but we gotta do it eventually, Callie Bear.” Looking over at Joe, you inform him, “and you will be present for this ordeal, sir, so you can learn how to do her hair for me.”

He looks confused, nose turned up. A chuckle is withheld at how much he and his daughter mimic each other in this situation. “Baby, I don’t know how to do hair.”

Sucking your teeth, you smartly point out, “you do your own!”

“I barely do anything with my hair. You know this.” 

Damn. He’s right. Lucky ass. “Regardless, when I get too big to be bending over the sink like that, someone’s gonna have to do it.”

Of course, Joe’s smartass just decides to throw out something that should probably be discussed before saying around Callie, “I’ll take her to your mom.”

Callie’s eyes light up a bit. “Grandma!”

“Joe.” Lord, this man got too much money or something. “You seriously are going to fly our daughter out to my hometown so my mama can do her hair?”

He shrugs, clearly not seeing an issue with what’s being proposed. “Yeah.”

Rolling your eyes and shaking your head, you lean further back in the pillows of the bed. “You are too—” However, you’re cut short mid-sentence, face and chest dropping simultaneously, the change in your disposition enough to catch Joe’s attention. 

“What’s wrong?” He’s sitting up even more, expertly masking the concern that’s growing by the second. Recognizing this, you will that small smile to start forming on your face, shaking your head as you motion for him and Callie to move closer.

“Mommy?” Callie is just as confused as you reach for both her and Joe’s hands, placing them on your belly, trying to find the spot of origin. “What—”

This time, she’s the one to stop mid-sentence as she feels it, the sensation you last felt when you were pregnant with her. Callie’s face is still set with understandable confusion, but your gaze on Joe reveals minimal concern and an abundance of amazement. 

“What is that, mommy?” Callie finally asks. The emotion in your throat takes you back a bit. You’re not typically a super emotional person, but there’s something about this moment, about feeling your babies kick for the first time and being able to share it with your fiance and child that does something to you. Knocks at those pillars that hold up your resolve. 

“That’s the babies. They’re kicking.” You explain, smiling a bit as Callie looks at you in horror.

“Why are they hurting you?”

“They’re not, sweetie. That’s what babies do. As they get bigger and grow, they need to move around and sometimes kick. You did the same thing to me.” Adding some playfulness into your voice, there’s a level of relief to see she appears less concerned. 

Your attention, however, is brought back to Joe as he kisses your temple, hand still planted on your stomach, clearly soaking up every bit of this precious, cherished moment. 

“I love you,” he murmurs against your temple. It’s such a simple statement, a little three letter sentence that means more than anyone could ever understand. Moving your hand to the side of his face, you both laugh as Callie moves her face to your stomach. 

“Don’t kick mommy too much, okay, little babies?” The determination on her face should be captured and locked away for safekeeping for the rest of time. “She’s the bestest mommy ever and pretty and smart and—”

“—and still not getting you a puppy.” While your daughter is undoubtedly one of the sweetest kids you’ve ever come across, she’s also intelligent as hell. And you know her like the back of your hand. Enough to know where she’s headed with this. 

And, you’re proven correct when she rolls her eyes again, making a ‘hmmph’ sound that has Joe chuckling next to you. She then sets her little plotting sights on Joe as she takes her hand from your stomach and moves to crawl into his lap.

You have to keep yourself from rolling your own eyes as she pulls out that sickeningly sweet voice and holds onto his shirt. “Daddy?”

Joe doesn’t hesitate to answer right away. “Yes, baby?” One look at him, and you already know what the answer is going to be. This man is so weak for this little girl. It’s not even funny. 

“Hallie wants a friend…..” Joe’s eyebrows cave in confusion as he looks over at you. 

Gesturing to her American Girl doll on the edge of the bed, you fill him in, “that’s what she named the doll.” 

He chuckles, clearly amused by the name that rhymes with hers. “She does?”

Callie nods, that excitement building back up. “Two friends!”

Mouth dropping, you prepare to put this child in her place when Daddy Warbucks beats you to it, living up to his reputation.

“Well, then we need to get her two friends.”

“Yay!” Callie celebrates, hugging Joe who ignores your look of disapproval. “Can I make her friends too?” 

And once again, the first living, breathing bank to ever exist is quick to fold. “Of course, Callie Bear.”

“Yay!” She cheers yet again for another way too easy battle. It’s not even a battle at this point. Battle would mean that both parties have somewhat of a chance, and Joe is clearly putty for his little girl. “Thank you, daddy.” She seals the deal with a hug and kiss on his cheek before climbing off the bed, grabbing Hallie as she shares, “I’m gonna make them now!”

With her tablet, clearly. The tablet you’d bet any money Joe once again disabled the time limits on. 

Lord, you’re about to have five damn children to take care of at this point. 

It’s only when Callie is out of the room and on her way to celebrate yet another successful day of finessing her daddy that you punch this man in his big ass arm. 

“What?” It’s him having the audacity to sound and look confused that has you ready to kick him out of the room. 

“What do you mean what?” Angling your body more toward him, you explain, “Joe, why are you buying her more dolls? American Girl dolls, at that. I know you must have paid at least $300 for the first one you got her. I saw all them accessories.” He rolls his eyes but doesn’t deny it, because he can’t. Callie had always asked you for one, and while you could have scraped some money together to make it happen, you couldn’t come to grips with just how many other more useful things one could do with that money. “She doesn’t need them dolls, babe.”

“You gon’ let her get a puppy now?”

An easy ass answer. “Hell no.”

He has the nerve to catch a slight attitude with you as he affirms, “then she’s getting the dolls.”

Rubbing your temples, you realize this isn’t a ‘fight’ you’re not going to win. “You know what, whatever. You do what you want, but I’m telling you right now, these—” You bring his hand back to your belly. “—babies are not going to be spoiled like their big sister. They gon be like Oliver Twist and grateful for a bowl of soup.”

He moves his hand around, probably trying to see if he can feel any more movement. “Callie is grateful.”

“For now.” Not really wanting to have this circular dialogue with him, you grab your phone to see a couple missed texts but open the one from your mom first, instantly rolling your eyes. “Not this again.”

The shift in your voice catches Joe’s attention. “What?”

Shaking your head, you show him the thread, thumb right next to the link for an article on ‘melanin maternal mental health’. 

Talk about fucking alliteration. 

“I don’t know what’s been up with her lately, but she’s been sending me all these links for articles and like motivational photos about mental health and motherhood.” You explain to him, going to heart the message and send a quick response to at least show some appreciation. Because there is a little there. That your mom cares about you so much. But the concern isn’t necessarily valid or needed..

This is the happiest you’ve been in some time. A long time. If ever.

Nothing is going to change that.

Especially being a mother to three more children. 

Placing your phone back on the nightstand, a glance at Joe reveals he’s debating something. “What?”

He moves closer to you, hand pushing back some of your coils. “Been thinking about that movie thing…..”

The smile on your face grows as you move closer, eyes twinkling with all the curiosity in the world. “What did you decide?”

—------

Megan is having a wonderful day.

One of the best she’s had in a while.

Not only did she manage to wake up on time, but the coffee she ordered from this cute little cafe she found while on a business trip in Denver a couple months ago awaited her on the outside of her apartment door when she got back from her pilates class the night before.

And there’s few things she loves more than a delicious cup of morning Joe.

A smirk falls on her face as she hums “Here Comes the Bride” while engaging in her extensive shower routine, admiring the expert work of her wax lady. Body hair has always been an absolute no. But, it’s when she moves the loofah across the weight of her heavy breast that Megan imagines hands and not her loofah. Big hands that would cup her boobs roughly as he forces her to turn around, slams her up against the shower wall and fucks her hard from behind, her moans and shouts of pleasure dancing across the tile, alerting everyone of just who owns this pussy.

Hand gliding down her wet, nude body, she keeps the vision going, slender thighs clenching together at the thought of him forcing her on her knees, his dick down the back of her throat, eyes watering as he mouth fucks her.

“Joe….” Thin fingers slip past wet folds as she realizes she’s going to be a couple minutes late for work.

So worth it though. 

Because Megan hasn’t come like that in years. Her legs are practically wobbly as she finally exits the shower, bathroom mirror completely fogged to where she has to grab a towel to clear up a section so she can see herself.

The pink tinge of her cheek brings a sly smile to her face. 

“I can’t wait until we can be together, my love…” A sweep of sadness comes over her as she grabs her phone, admiring his handsome face on her lock screen and opens Apple Music to play his entrance music, selecting the repeat button before she continues with her routine. 

It takes her about the usual time.

And soon enough, Megan is out the door, having finished her delicious coffee and opted to just have a banana for breakfast. There’s no time for unnecessary caloric intake.

She has to start preparing for the wedding. 

Walking into the office, right away, she can detect the almost sullen atmosphere and does her best to match the vibe.

To play along. 

And before she can go to her office bestie, Paige, to “find out” why everything feels so off, the team is pulled in for a mandatory meeting.

Luke’s quiet demeanor does take her a bit back. He’s never quiet. She’s not complaining though. Not at all.

As soon as everyone is seated, he starts off with the general pleasantries that are weighed by the sadness in his voice. And then he gets into it. “I know some of you have heard, but for those who haven’t, I—uh—I got some bad news.” He takes a deep breath, shaking his head. “There’s uh—no way to say this, but Susan Jackson was found dead this morning.”

As an array of gasps and shocked countenances fill the room, Megan does her best to blend in, to play along with the genuine surprise of all of her coworkers.

Paige leans over to whisper to Megan, eyes also watery, “they say she killed herself. That she was found her on the sidewalk in front of her apartment building. Window was open and everything.”

Megan expertly fakes a horrified expression. “Oh my god, how heartbreaking.” She even manages to crank out some tears that don’t shed but get the job done. “I can’t believe she’s gone….”

“Megan.” She lifts her head, eyebrows also raising. “I know you worked close with Susan on a couple of clients, and you also know she was set to assist Roman Reigns on his debut film, but with Susan gone….”

Megan shakes her head, pulling out a few sniffles. “It’s okay. I’ll….I’ll do it. I’ll take Reigns as my client.”

And my husband.

Luke gives her a nod of appreciation, wiping at his eyes as he clears his throat and continues to address the room.

It takes almost everything in her not to roll her eyes. The woman was fucking fifty for crying out loud. 

She lived long enough. 

He says something about grief counseling, the suicide hotline, blah blah blah.

Megan does her best to listen but mostly tunes out the rest of the meeting. It’s irrelevant. She has what she wants. Now, it’s time to go after who she wants, the thought alone creating such an intense, euphoric feeling inside of her stomach as she casually traces the brand new tiny letter ‘J’ she now has tattooed on her ring finger.

[connorjesup]

AYAN & AKK in THE ECLIPSE EP8

Can you tell me now how you feel about me? Can you, Akk? I’m not like you. Do you hear me? I’m not like you. That’s not the answer, Akk. I didn’t ask if you were like me. I asked how you feel about me. Can you tell me? I can’t say it. I can’t do it. Okay. I get it. It must be hard for you. But I can wait. For you, I will wait no matter how long.

[eat-limes-bitches]

Sanctuary

PAIRING: Female Avenger! Reader x Bucky Barnes

SUMMARY: We all need a safe place to rest, even when some of us don't believe it

WARNINGS: umm, major fluff, Bucky thinking badly of himself

Word Count: 1408

A/N: wow surprise surprise, I'm not dead. I just fell into the hole of no inspiration paired with real-world stuff (gross) but please enjoy this lovely little thing I wrote. First thing I've written in months so sorry if it is not the best.

Enjoy! <3

Divider by Rookthorne

It was nearing three am when Bucky finally walked through the compound doors. He crept silently through the halls, his final destination in mind: his bedroom. Not to sleep, he was still too on edge from the mission he was returning from even to consider sleeping. He just wanted out of his wet clothes from the rain. Upon reaching said destination, Bucky rid himself of the soggy garments and slipped into a pair of grey sweatpants and a random t-shirt he pulled out of his dresser before leaving his room to head to the gym to work off some of the remaining adrenaline. No matter how loud his body screamed at him to rest, he was more fearful of the monsters inside of his head than the aching pain radiating through his body. When he reached the kitchen, he wasn’t planning on stopping until he heard a soft humming which caught his attention. He paused just inside the door frame and looked around for the source of the sound when his eyes landed on Y/n.

Y/n was an enigma to Bucky. Everyone gravitated towards her, something about her presence was enough to soothe the battered souls of the team and it wasn’t uncommon to find her in the lounge with one or all of the Avengers piled up around her in some form or fashion, most nights one of them would be snuggled up in her bed after a rough mission just needing human contact to help ground them, even now, watching her put a bagel in the toaster, with the setting turned up much too high for her preferred toasty-ness, Bucky felt the tension in his shoulders give out just a little, his heart doing little flips as well, but he refused to give in. He didn’t want to taint the sweetness of her aura with the bitterness of his demons. He instead opted to watch as her soft Y/h/c curls swayed around as she rummaged through the refrigerator for a new stick of butter, still humming gently as she did so. 

“I don’t bite, you know. You can come sit down,” She called out to him, not bothering to turn around, causing Bucky to flinch slightly. He hated being caught observing her from afar. His teammates would see the longing looks he gave in her direction, longing to feel the soft safety she provided but refusing himself as some sort of twisted punishment. Bucky slowly crept over to the kitchen counter where the chairs were neatly tucked up under the ledge until he pulled one out to sit on. Only once situated did Y/n turn around and look at him. Her soft eyes traced over his form examining for any injuries.

 As if sensing the reason for her intense gaze, Bucky whispered, “‘M not hurt darlin’.”

She moved her eyes to meet his, checking the validity of his statement. Whatever she found there was enough to confirm his statement and she nodded, cocking her head to one side as she asked, 

“Then why are you not in bed resting? Your body is obviously trying to tell you to rest and you are ignoring it. Why?”

Bucky sighed, refusing to look at her. She had the uncanny ability to read everyone who lived in the compound, but somehow, she read him better than everyone else, knowing exactly what was going on with him without him saying a word. 

“Are you worried about the nightmares?” Y/n questioned, voice no more than a whisper as she ducked her head to catch his gaze with her own. Darting his eyes to catch her gaze before looking away, Bucky nodded. Y/n hummed before returning to the toaster to retrieve her bagel, slathering it with butter when Bucky finally spoke, 

“What are you doing up at this time?” Y/n flashed a smile over her shoulder before replying,

“I knew you were coming home, I had FRIDAY tell me when you arrived so that way I would be around if you needed anything. I know how you get after missions like these, I just wanted to be available.”

Now, Bucky was a sensitive guy, underneath all of the tall, dark, and brooding, was a man who was starved of any sort of affection for over 70 years, and hearing that simple statement from Y/n was enough to break down the little self-control he had to stay away from her. 

“Y-y/n?” He asked, a wobble evident in his voice as he spoke, catching Y/n’s attention immediately.

“Can-” Bucky started to ask before snapping his mouth closed, the thought of ruining her running through his mind before he could finish his question,

 “Actually, never mind.” He mumbled, pushing himself off of the chair and making a bee-line for the exit when Y/n called out after him,

“Wait, Bucky!” He stopped in his tracks, not being able to just ignore her when she said his name so sweetly. He listened as her quiet footsteps got closer until she was standing slightly in front of him, not wanting to stand directly in his way in case he still wanted to leave. 

“You know, you yourself, as much as anyone else in this universe deserve love and affection, even if you think don’t. I know that’s hard to accept right now, there’s a lot of turmoil going on in that noggin of yours,” she said softly, taking a few steps closer to him as she continued,

“but I need you to know that and to know that I am here. I am always here for you. Now, if you want to ask your question you can, and if you still want to leave you can as well. I just needed to make sure you knew that.”

She smiled at him, a smile he had never seen before. It was soft, bright, and warm in ways that he had never seen before that made him realize this smile was just for him, and only for him. For some reason, that knowledge made him brave and with a deep breath, he asked to question he was afraid to,

“D-do you think that you can let me sleep with you tonight?” His voice was so soft that if Y/n’s complete attention wasn’t on him, she may not have heard him. She smiled that special smile at him as she extended her hand for him to take,

“Of course, c'mon then, let’s get you to bed. You need some solid sleep,” she murmured as she led him towards her room. 

Y/n pushed the door open and walked through, letting Bucky enter in his own time, not wanting to overwhelm him. Slowly, Bucky crept into the room, the smell of lavender, mint, and cedar invading his senses as he approached the bed. Y/n smiled at him before pushing the grey sheets back and climbing in, motioning for him to do the same. Once underneath the soft sheets, Y/n turned to face him.

 “How do you want to do this?” She asked, “Do you want me to touch you?” In the dim light, Bucky could see a soft flush on her cheeks, as she continued to explain herself, realizing that the word choice was a little provocative. “I-I mean like, some people like to cuddle others just like knowing someone else is there I don’t mind either way, I just didn’t want you to think-” 

Bucky chuckled softly and reached over and pulled Y/n closer to him so that he could lay his head on her chest, listening to her steady heartbeat. Y/n froze slightly before completely melting and moving her hands to his hair, running through the soft chestnut strands. 

“So you’re a cuddler. Got it.” She murmured, smiling as Bucky snuggled deeper into her embrace, arms still wound around her frame to keep her close. Bucky began to grow drowsy, between Y/n’s gentle finger in his hair and the soft song she began humming again, sleep was not far from wrapping Bucky in its soft embrace.

“Thank you,” Bucky muttered, his voice muffled by the fabric of Y/n’s old university t-shirt.

Y/n smiled and pressed a kiss to the crown of Bucky’s head. “Of course, now get some rest, you need it.” With a final squeeze, Bucky began to drift off to sleep. Maybe, this was the exact sanctuary he needed.

[theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction]

Imagine Law catching you impersonating him…

Placing the white hat on top of your head, you wiggled it slightly to get the right adjustment. It was a slightly looser fit but it was enough to not slip off.

Crossing your arms, you attempted to pose with a menacing scowl.

“I’m Trafalgar D. Water Law.” You declared mimicking his tone.

Shachi and Penguin threw their heads back with a cackle. Ikkaku clasped her stomach and barrelled forward. Bepo jumped up with his paws in the air.

“Do another one!” He cried in delight.

Turning your back to them, you laughed before recomposing yourself and then whirled around halfway. One arm was extended, fingers and palm facing down.

“Room.” You called out, resulting in the same boisterous laughter from the crew. You flipped your hand upright in the same manner as the broody captain did. “Shambles.”

…silence.

You frowned and looked at the faces staring back at you all traces of their previous smiles gone. Had you done it wrong?

Even Bepo was looking at you funny with his jaw slack.

Looking over your hand and stance, you scratched your head. “I’m sure I got it right.” You said and glanced at your friends. “Was I not deadpan enough? Or broody? Maybe I wasn’t dramatic enough…”

“Y/n-ya.” Law called out.

Turning your head to him, you sent him a quick wave. “Oh, hi.” You said before returning to figure out what was wrong with your performance.

Recounting all the elements, it took you longer than it should have to realise that their lack of cheers was because you all had been caught by the Heart Pirate Captain.

Your stomach should have dropped, you should have frozen in fear like the rest but there was a sense of pride in you. Law was far too rigid, his reasons were valid, but a simple moment of lighthearted humour surely couldn’t hurt. Although, maybe he’d disagree if it was at his expense.

He stepped forward and you couldn’t help but internally chuckle at his unruly hair. You would definitely attempt to rake your fingers through that mess to bother him next.

He looked at his frozen crew and with a single glare, they scurried to their usual duties. Bepo squeaking in a panic before he too vanished to hide.

Law looked at you and let out a small sigh. “I told you not to take my hat.”

He reached out to take it back when you ducked and stepped out of reach.

“You also told me that I’d be back on the Thousand Sunny three days ago.” You argued.

It’s not that you didn’t love a few extra days on the Polar Tang but you were desperately missing the antics of the Strawhats and it was starting to show aboard the Heart Pirates.

Law said nothing to address the delay. He closed the space and lifted the soft fabric from your head to place it back atop his own but this time, it carried the faint scent of your shampoo.

You watched as he turned and started to walk away. With a smile, you cupped your hands over your mouth.

“Admit it, it looks better on me!” You called out behind him.

Law merely lowered his head, hiding a small smile - it definitely looked better on you.

~ More imagines here ~

[qqueenofhades]

re your tags on that last post, you could say he was...biden his time

BA DUMP TSHH.

I think that everyone, having gotten through the initial 24 hours of rage, fear, terror, confusion, anger, and frustration, is coming around to the idea that this was possibly a good thing and has undoubtedly given the Democratic ticket a much-needed jolt of energy. There are still all the very valid conversations to be had about the sway of a tiny group of billionaire donors, the media and Anonymous Democratic Sources bullying, the decision to torch Biden when they could so easily (so! easily!!!) have done it to Trump at any time and have clearly decided to go FULLY into the tank for him instead. This has many worrisome implications for democracy, and it's not something to be celebrated. All of that is still very much true.

However, now that we have had concrete evidence of the party immediately cohering around Kamala and the grassroots donors busting down the door to give her money, it may also turn out that this was a very wise political jiu-jitsu move by a very crafty political veteran like Biden. As the post I just reblogged pointed out, he did it AFTER the GOP convention, when the Republicans had already locked in (by any reasonable metric) a terrible, terrible ticket. It makes the Democrats look like the ones responsive to the American people demanding a younger and more mentally "with it" candidate (no matter how obvious the slurs about ageism were in regard to Biden when Trump is literally THREE YEARS YOUNGER and far more obviously scrambled). It opens all the excitement and historic firsts of Obama in 2008, it gives the perfect "Prosecutor vs. Felon" tagline that's really easy to run with and stick in people's minds, it is beautiful revenge for all Trump's horrible sexist behavior in 2016 (and really, his whole life) and it gives the Democrats the narrative, if they can FUCKING STICK TOGETHER AND STOP STABBING EACH OTHER IN THE BACK. Now we get to hear about Kamala's running mate, Kamala's plans, feel-good pieces about how she appeals to youth, women/people of color, etc. etc. ALL THAT IS GOOD.

I think/hope the DNC will now be a massive celebration of Biden, who after all came out of retirement when he was already old to take on Trump, beat him, deliver an incredibly successful presidency, and pass the torch on to Kamala. I saw some criticism of Obama yesterday for not endorsing her immediately, but what I read is that he/the other Democratic big beasts (Pelosi, Schumer, etc) want to be a uniting figure with an endorsement of the final candidate, if there was a contested primary beforehand. Thank fuck, it doesn't look like there will be, but it also means that they might wait until the DNC before openly endorsing her. Now, I am still angry at the Biden knifing that all these three were complicit in to some degree, BUT I also have no doubt that if/when Kamala is confirmed as the nominee, they will line up behind her to endorse her and her VP pick. I have seen Mark Kelly, Roy Cooper, etc as possible picks (since alas, she will probably have to pick a straight white man; Kelly would be replaced in the Senate by Democratic AZ governor Katie Hobbs; Cooper is term-limited as governor in NC and might help us target that state for a flip). But what is number one most important is that we support her and whoever she DOES choose. I have also heard that she is already in the process of vetting picks and this is exciting news.

I am thrilled to vote for a woman for POTUS the second time in a few years, I think she has a real shot at winning, and I am heartened by how the base has rallied to Kamala in 24 hours. Let's fucking go. As my new office decoration says:

[lundenloves]

OMG OMG OMG HEAR ME OUT PLEASE! What if Simon/Ghost comes back home from deployment and is really stressed, annoyed and angry from a mission. He’s left alone with his oldest daughter in the house and has this horrible fight with his oldest daughter and I mean like screaming because the oldest daughter can’t find her shirt and he refuses to help until finally she blurts “I hate you” to him out of the heat of the fight…CAN THIS SOMEHOW END WITH MAJOR FLUFF BETWEEN THE TWO?! If it’s too much just ignore me❤️❤️ Thank you, I love your work🤭🤭

{✧} hello beautiful anon, you have seemingly given me life? banged this out in around an hour. if it seems like it only took an hour, please ignore that or i’ll drown myself in a loch. hope i’ve done your ask justice? thank you for asking for angst, that’s probably why it got done so fast 💀

taglist | masterlist | dad!simon masterlist | request info

↳ no warnings | 1.2k | dad!simon

It was quiet in the house. Just quiet enough for Simon to process what had just happened in the last 48 hours — yet not quiet enough for his ears to ring from constant gunfire. It was a happy medium, alone bar his oldest who jogged up and downstairs at record paces. Flipping the living room upside down, and the pile of clean washing on the bottom stair was tossed to the floor in a desperate attempt to find her shirt. 

He was sitting on the sofa, head leant back, eyes shut only to hear her scuffling around. “Where’s my shirt?” She penetrated his happy silence, stood in front of him with arms dropped to her sides in a teenage palava. “Where did you put it?” 

Simon gave her a noise between a sigh and a hum, craning his neck to look up at her. “What?” He unintentionally spat, his normal tone of voice as sharp as ever. “I ‘aven’t touched your shirt.” Eyes locked to the pile of recently ironed clothes tossed to the floor by the stairs. “They’ll be in that fucking pile you’ve chucked around and walked past ten times.” 

“Well, they’re obviously not.” She groaned. 

Simon shrugged, standing up to stack this morning’s breakfast dishes. “What do you want me to do?” He shook his head at her, taking the plates to the kitchen with her trailing behind him. “I can’t magic it, can I? It’ll be wherever you’ve left it.” 

“It’s not. That’s the point. You’ve moved it.” She had genetically taken his frown, sporting it straight back to him when he had turned around to take something from the table. 

“Oh, have I?” He mumbled nonchalantly, loading the dishes into the sink with loud clatters. “Get those mugs from your room.” 

“No, I'm looking for the shirt.” Her tone matched his, stubbornly kicking her foot against the chair leg to get his attention. “Can you check mum's stuff?” 

“You can.” He turned around, a dish towel balled between his hands with a nod toward the stairs. 

Simon's moods were hard to distinguish. The primary reason being: he always seemed to be in some sort of disparity. So even when he’d come back from a particularly challenging mission, one that had asked too much from him or went horrifically wrong, he would almost always be the same as he usually was. Blunt, sarcastic and seemingly uncaring. 

You had learned to tell the difference but your daughters knew none the wiser. Leading to unknowingly provoking yet valid questions like, “What is wrong with you.” 

“Nothing. Get the mugs.” 

“You never help with shit.” She scoffed, turning on her heel to stomp upstairs and Simon’s jaw ticked. Head tilted to the side, palms leaning either side of the sink with a step back to hang his head between his shoulders. 

Having a teenage girl was the route of many headaches for Simon. Not particularly because of her, but for the natural way where everything revolves around them for an extended amount of years. Everything is embarrassing, if not first regarded as useless. And as far as Simon was concerned he fell somewhere between the two in her radar. 

“Don’t start with that.” He’d said once she had slammed the mugs down on the table behind him, his back was still toward her. 

“Well it’s fucking—“

“I mean it.” 

“It’s true you’re never here!” She shrilled. “You never do anything, you’re always angry and never help.” A beat. “You don’t even talk to us, dad.” She paused, undoubtedly eyeing him for any sort of reaction. “It’s fucked, you’re fucked.”

He turned to take the mugs, eyes avoiding hers although his jaw was tense. “And you can’t even have a conversation.” She laughed though it held no comedy. “You’ll just snap like you always do.” 

“I snap because it’s hard to switch between work and home— here.” He turned around, his daughter shying from his broad frame and low voice. Refraining from asking about Simon’s work was the one thing you had instructed all three of your kids not to do. Although, naturally it became a target point for arguments with him. A real low blow, the best and most critical hit you could land on him was his absence from home due to work. 

Bonus points if you added all he had missed, the first steps, the first words. It was a lot. But it was not there to be thrown back in his face, not as often as it was anyway. “You don’t even want to be here.” 

He shifted in his position, placing hands behind his head at her confrontation. “All of this because of that shirt.” His words directly combated hers, hitting them backward and stopping them from landing anywhere near him. Effectively avoiding her statement. 

“When’s the last time you hugged me, dad?” She said calmly yet loudly, metaphorically shattering glass over his head. 

It had been weeks, months at worst. 

His silence was telling, hands dropped down to his sides in defeat. As usual, he couldn’t find the words so she had jumped for her turn and jab one more time.

“I hate you. I hate you for that, so bad.” It came as a whisper and by that point, the kitchen had fallen quiet too. Occasional sniffs and the rubbing of the odd tear turned her face red, Simon cleared his throat. 

It only highlighted her point in that he stood still. Though, it wasn’t fair to point a finger and say it was his own fault he was that way, emotional warmth and touch just weren’t in his niche range of abilities. His thumb drew imperfect circles on the kitchen counter, staring at her with any and all outward apology he could muster. 

“I didn’t mean that.” She mumbled first, embarrassingly shifting her weight to the other foot while looking up to the ceiling, eyes darting left to right as if to hold back any more upset. She was a lot like Simon that way, although not at all. 

“I know.” He replied softly, taking a closing step toward her and placing his hand on the back of her head to pull her to his chest. “I don’t mean to be like this, you know that.” The silence made him look down to gain a nod in response, her gaze zoning out to the kitchen window as he smoothed out her hair. 

Simon was never good with words, so he always took to actions that felt even more foreign but they at least allowed for the substitution of his appeasements. “Sorry for swearing at you.” She mumbled, melting into his broad chest. 

“Someone has to put me in my place.” The vibration of the words rippled in his chest and she pulled back only to look down at the floor. “You’re a lot like me, you know.” He poked at her ribs, provoking an unwilling laugh that then turned into a smile. “A lot.” 

She shrugged, pushing his hands away after they had wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Yeah, alright.” Her frown was feigned.

“I promise you.” He turned to continue the dishes, looking back to her over his shoulder. “And your shirt is on the line.” He nodded out the window, watching as she gasped and ran outside like he had found gold. 

simon ‘ghost’ riley taglist: @vamppxncess @crowbird @misshoneypaper @tallrock35 @fluffmonster @islanderr @blueoorchid @lea3773 @coldflapjack @rayhawk05 @han11dh @liishook @melovetitties @fallonx @rvjaa @fuckmelifesucks @bhayatsara @takeomisbitch @local-spidey @konigsblog @penutjuice @babychoi03 @sheluvzeren @sparklingtragedy @maviee @wiserebelpartypie @daddylorianisastateofmind @bhayatsara @mistydeyes @writingmysanity @johfaam0 @idkjoequinn @gressseyy @fwibblefwobble @shibble @maladaptivedaydreamingbum @airghostlyfox @hotgirlsshareaccounts @simpxinnie @dilfdotgov

as always comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated! i’ll sit in a hole if no one pays me on the head every now and then.

this is unedited.

[fiamat12]

The ring, the ring, the ring, the ring…

I think she’s using that ring to show her relationship status: Taken. And I have a hard time believing that she is going to have a ring commissioned to symbolize S3 of Bton and then use it to broadcast her relationship with anyone but L. What kind of relationship are they in? Don’t know, but the kind that has her finger screaming “Not Available to Anyone Else!”

Can you imagine her getting in a relationship with someone else and then being like, “Hold on honey, I’m just going to flip around this ring that I literally had made to symbolize playing out Pen and Colin’s epic love story to let everyone know I’m taken now!!! (BTW babe did I tell you they’re soulmates and will die on the same day and our on screen wedding literally felt like the real thing, I won’t be as protective of MY OWN WEDDING DRESS as I was with Pen’s, and I made L wait to see me until the wedding filming day because I knew he’d be gagged. Also the thing about S3 I will miss most is LUKE LUKE LUKE, I cried my eyes out after our last sex scene where I slipped him the tongue, he’s the absolute best.)”

ALSO her face is bare, she’s wearing nothing but her bathrobe but that damn ring is still on her finger. Either it’s the last thing she takes off at night, the first thing she puts on in the morning, or it stays on all the time. That’s personal. That’s symbolic of something.

Is it a signal to him? A promise to herself? Couple it with the song lyrics and comments about waiting for someone, not compromising yourself, waiting for the right person (he couldn’t agree more, nothing to add), and it makes me think she’s waiting for him to disentangle, and the ring means she’s waiting until he does, and they have an understanding about it. I don’t know what the hell he is doing with A but maybe she does and there’s a reason for it.

I’m open to hearing alternative theories about what it might mean, but nothing else puts all of the pieces together in a way that makes sense.

Someone like N does not wear/have made custom symbolic jewelry like that and wear it in the manner that one would wear a wedding/engagement ring, never taking it off, showing it off sponsored posts, at events, in every pic, and not have it mean something. May I remind you that SHE designed Pen’s wedding ring to symbolize the merging of their families. She cares about symbolism and tokens. IT MEANS SOMETHING.

Valid points to consider ☝️

[justkending]

Mr. & Mrs. Hunt (7/7)

Mini-Series Summary: Two of the most stubborn people in the group partnered together for an undercover mission are also the two people with the most hatred for each other, so what could go wrong? Or is it, what COULDN’T go wrong?…

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger Reader (Enemies to Lovers) (Fake Marriage Trope)

Word Count: 1800+ (shorter but sweet;)

A/N: This is the last chapter of the mini-series! I've loved a break from all my other WIPs and am surprised that I was able to complete this even if I wasn't sure where it was going 🥲 Thank you all again for the support, comments, and sweet love you've sent my way, and I hope to have more free time to write this summer now that I'm on break!🥳💞

Next Chapter

Y/N’s POV:

Four months have gone by since our mission. And to say things are different would be an understatement. 

We kept the game of hating each other going on long enough for Steve and Nat to both lose their bets. And then we each did a little betting on the side with the two on how fast we could make the other reconcile. Bucky and I both were $200 richer after that. 

The team was shocked at the new friendship, but after some consideration and after coming clean to Bucky about my reasoning for how I treated him, I felt a weight off my chest. That weight grew lighter and lighter with each person I confided in, making our explanation of no longer having a feud unimportant. 

My story was a reason for how I acted the last almost five years with Bucky, but it wasn’t a valid one. I was happy to have moved past it and frustrated that it took me this long. 

Comfort in having Bucky as a genuine friend was a gift I starved myself of for so long, and I’m happy to know that I’ll have it from here on out. 

“If Sam asks, I didn’t do it,” Bucky sped walked into the room and tried to act casual as if he had been in the space the whole time, standing next to me at the kitchen island as I cut up fruit for my snack I'd become hyper fixated on recently. 

God bless the billionaire who could keep all fruits, in season or not, on hand.

“Got it,” I nodded unphased, never taking my eyes from the cutting board before me. 

“Have I told you thank you for never questioning my antics with Sam?” The smile in his voice is evident, and I turn to see the proof of it stretched across his features as he looks down at me. 

“You've established your appreciation once or twice since we’ve become friends,” I laugh, looking back at my work. “Grab me some blueberries from the fridge, will ya?” 

As he moved and started opening the fridge, perfect timing, Sam turned into the kitchen with steam practically blowing out of his ears. 

“What did you do?” he grunted as he stomped in, fists at his sides. 

Bucky turned from halfway in the fridge and gave him a confused look. If there was one thing I learned about him while on the mission, he was a great actor. 

“Y/N or me?” he asked, pointing between us with the carton of blueberries in his hand. “Do you want an apple too?” he asked casually, one already in his hand as if Sam wasn’t seconds from shooting him from existence with Redwing. 

“Sure, why not?” I hummed, dropping the knife and wiping my hands as I turned to Sam. “What are you going on about?” 

“I know it wasn’t Y/N, Barnes. She’s been on a mission the last two days and just got back this morning. This was a premeditated hate crime.” 

“Whoa. I’m intrigued now,” I laugh, and start placing the cut strawberries into a bowl I had out and take the apple Bucky hands off to me. 

“You want to tell her about your fun, little prank?” Sam turns his annoyance to Bucky with crossed arms, and Bucky flips on the water to wash the berries in hand. 

“I would have to know what you’re talking about in order to tell her.” 

“Don’t play coy, Barnes,” he points a finger his way, and his eyes could laser through vibranium if they wanted. 

“Help us out. Give us context,” I carry on, very intrigued with what it is Bucky had done, and start cutting the apple up. 

“As if he doesn’t already know,” Sam grumbled, walking in further. “You know how I had to buy all new long sleeve thermals because my clothes don’t fit anymore?” 

I hummed and smiled down at the fruit. “Getting too swole in the gym, as I heard you tell Steve. Trying to match his bench press will do that, trust me. I know,” I raised an arm and flexed for extra measure, and he rolled his eyes as Bucky laughed and placed the cleaned blueberries on the counter. 

“Tell me why all my new shirts don’t work…” Sam looked to Bucky with a cold, calculated stare. 

“Would work be the correct term?” Bucky poked. “Would you say shirts ‘work’ or ‘fit’?” He looks at me with the tiniest smirk on his lips. I shook my head, trying to soften the smile growing on my own.

“You sewed the end of my sleeves shut so my arm wouldn’t go all the way through!” Sam shouted, pulling the shirt from his back pocket and holding it up. 

Bucky let out a ‘pft’ sound and leaned against the counter by me. “Who’s to say I even know how to sew?” In truth, I knew he was using me as a barrier when Sam eventually fell over the edge and gave into his fantasy of choking him out. 

“Shut up!” Sam growled. “You stitch yourself up on missions half that time because you hate having the nurses do it. Obviously, you know how to work a needle and thread.” 

“Needle and floss most of the time, actually,” he shrugs, and that does it for Sam. 

“I’m gonna beat your ass!” Sam stomps hurridly to the counter, but Bucky goes on the other side, estimating his moves. 

“Have to catch me first!” he said with a wicked grin, and Sam wasted no time running after him. 

As Bucky escaped the room and Sam followed behind him, I heard a “That’s what you get for hiding all the remotes in my room while I was gone, dick!” 

_______________________

A few days later, after I got a stitch ripper and helped Sam get his thermal shirts ‘working,’ I asked Nat and Wanda to join me on a girls' trip to buy a new winter wardrobe now that the seasons had officially started turning in New York. 

When we returned, Nat was called to talk with Fury, and Banner asked Wanda to be a second set of eyes for something in the lab. 

I was left grabbing my bags by myself in the den, and just as I was about to tumble to the side with the last overstuffed brown sack, Bucky came around and caught me. His hand wrapped around my waist as the other grabbed the bag that would have been my doom. 

“Thanks,” I groaned as the weight of them pressed into my wrist from the handles. 

“What happened to all those gains you got matching Steve’s bench press?” he laughed, taking at least three bags before I waved him off, taking the others myself. 

“I gave up on that challenge a long time ago. I’ve lost the muscle mass, unfortunately.”

“You didn’t lose it. Just transferred it,” he winked, curling the fourth bag I fought him taking. 

I rolled my eyes and nodded my head toward the hall with our apartments. “You do have a vibranium arm. That gives you more of an advantage than you give credit for.” 

“Just be happy this advantage is working for you and not against you,” he kicked the back of my knee as he followed behind me. “Find anything good?” 

I turn back and see him glancing in the bag like the snoop he is. 

“If I tell you, are you going to sew my sleeves shut?” I hum, turning a corner down the hall from my door. 

“Only if you hide all my remotes and then log out of all my streaming services, so I have to put them all in one by one,” he whistles a jazzy tune. “Stear clear of that, and I’ll be nice.” 

“Ooo,” I cringe, turning and looking at him as I put my thumbprint on the door to unlock it. “He got you with the minor inconvenience prank. Those are the worst.”

“Minor was an understatement. Hence the retaliation.”

We both go inside, and Bucky places his bags on the couch while I dump the remaining ones on my bed. 

“Thanks for the help,” I smile, stretching from the long day out, and shrug off my coat as I settle. 

“No problem,” he replies, but I don’t hear him move to leave, so once I throw my coat off completely, I turn and give him a look. He’s watching me intently, and I feel almost bare under his gaze. 

“Was there something-”

“Can I ask you something?” he cuts me off, and his mood shifts. 

“Um, yeah. Sure. What’s up?” I turn to him and give him my full attention cause it seems serious. 

He hesitates at first and almost looks nervous as he contemplates how to ask me whatever it is. 

“Are you doing anything tonight?” he looks around my room towards the living space. 

I follow his gaze, trying to see if I’m missing something. “Plans that I can think of... No. Why?”

“I was wonder- well. I was- I was wondering if you’d want to maybe- I mean, if you’re up for it, of course, possibly maybe, watch a movie or something?” he gets out, and oh my God. I’ve never seen him fumble over his words like this before. 

“Watch a movie?” I recap as I blink out of the idea that Bucky is 100% nervous. “You and me or with the rest of the team?”

He lets out a small chuckle and rubs the back of his neck. 

“You and me. If you’re ok with that,” he answers, looking at me bashfully. 

“I’d be up for that,” I smile and my stomach does a little flip even if I’m not sure where he’s going with this. But the teenage girl who never got to experience this before is doing cartwheels. “What movie were you thinking?” 

He seems to have a permanent smile now because of my answer, and I can’t lie and say the one on my face doesn’t hurt a little from how wide it is. 

“Lady's choice. I’ll bring one of those fruit bowls you like to make and maybe-”

“I made some cookies this morning. I hid them in the pantry because we all know Tony and Sam would have finished them off before I had a chance even to smell them from the oven,” I rush out. 

“You’re baking tends to have that effect on many people around here. I kind of miss when I was the one and only recipient of it,” he laughs. “Even if I wasn’t lying about gaining a few pounds.” 

I roll my eyes at that and start to walk to the door, stopping to put a hand on his shoulder. “We both know that your metabolism is far too magical for that to be a long-term problem.” 

“True, but I’m not against testing that theory,” he shrugs, bumping my shoulder with his own as he walks with me. 

I stop right before reaching the door and turn to him with a grin and blush I cannot control. 

“Bucky, is this a date?” 

As if he’s so sure of himself now, the nerves melt off him; he says, “I was hoping we could count it as one this time. Considering all the others were fake, even if I don't count most of them that way...”

Marvel Tags:

@thejourneyneverendsx​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @death-unbecomes-you @mythos-writes​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​  @srrymydood​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @xa-dia​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @redhairedfeistynerd​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @morganclaire4​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @connie326​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @captain-asguard​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @mollygetssherlockcoffee​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @teenagedreams-bucky @shower-me-with-roses​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @livstilinski @basicallylool​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @starryeyeseunbyul​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

My Lovelies Forever:

@natura1phenomenon​ @lauravicente​ @kakakatey​ @traceyaudette​ @notyourtypicalrose​ @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​ @sandlee44​ @thorne93​ @thefaithfulwriter1​ @essie1876​ @greyeyedsmile14​ @capsiclehan​  @xostephanie​ @averyrogers83​ @awesomenursingstudent​ @gh0stgurl​ @cs-please​ @jjlevin​ @rainbowkisses31​ @deannotmoose​ @their-bibliophile​ @kitkatd7​ @willowbleedsonpaper​ @mariaenchanted​ @snffbeebee​ @couldabeenamermaid​ @rebekahdawkins​​ @alyispunk​​ @billyseye @hallecarey1​​

Bucky Barnes Tags:

@chloe-skywalker​ @charmedbysarge​ @jbarness​ @bellamy-barnes​ @katiaw2​ @aikeia​ @stopjustlovethemcu​ @enchantedbarnes

Mr. & Mrs. Hunt Series:

@jackiehollanderr @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @theroyalmanatee @wintrsoldrluvr @alexakeyloveloki  @bxckybxrnes24 @lillianacristina @selella @heletsmelovehim @lovelybaka @julvrs @mostlymarvelgirl @heletsmelovehim @learisa @bubblegumbeautyqueen @that-d-bitch @rabbitrabbit12321

[curvykittyyssmutfics]

corrupt!Nanami

A/N: For @mozlov. Enjoy! 🫶🏽

corrupt!Nanami shifted personalities like flipping off the light switch on a dark stormy night: Your big soft bear was more savage than ever. "You're not listening. She's not takin time off. And as long as y/n works here, so do I. End of fuckin story." Nanami snarls at Yaga. Rolling and flexing his shoulders like he's getting ready for a fight. He's always so ready to box these days. Especially over you. "Nami, its okay. Let's just go-" You're pulling at his dress shirt, afraid shits bout to go down. But Yaga simply holds up his hand for silence. "If you can control yourself while we figure out your condition.. Y/n can stay, but-" Nanamis already taking a step forward, eyes narrowed. You gotta put yourself in between them to make sure your husband doesn't swing. "We'll allow you on the grounds for visitation but you simply can't teach like this. Not at the moment, Kento." Nanami stares at him coldly for a moment before turning to you. The adoration in his eyes gives you whiplash, but it's relief when he puts away the malevolent beast and returns your loving husband. "Long as she's good, I'm good." Said with too much conviction, slowly rubbing a thumb over your bottom lip, shallowly dippin between your lips to tease the tip of your tongue. You gasp, eyes wide at at how quick Nanami goes through the motions. Fuckin guy is now starin at you like you're his prey. "But she's takin the day off." He quickly pulls you from the room without another word, Yaga starin at Nanami's back in utter disbelief.

corrupt!Nanami turns out to be fuckin elated not to be a teacher anymore and quickly loses his dedication to the cause. He's only interested in the art of slaughter, no longer needing a valid reason to pull out his cleaver. Tries, and often fails, to keep that shit to a minimum. Dont get it twisted, Nanami's a murderous bastard. Isn't limited to just killing curses anymore but anyone that gets in his way. Yet.. he's aware how that fucks with your conscience. Knows he can sleep like a baby after but doesn't fuck with how that shit keeps you up at night. So he hides his bloody clothes after a long day, making sure to shower before coming to bed and scooping you into his arms. Falls asleep peacefully as his mind flashes scenes from his lastest kill.

corrupt!Nanami no longer asks your permission for shit anymore. Bent over to pick somethin up? That ends up with your husband puttin you on all fours, giving you back breaking back shots as your try to crawl away. "Quit that, y/n. Told yo fine ass bout doin that shit, right? Bendin over so just so I can see.. 'S all your fault.. You know I can't help it. Ass is too perfect to ignore." It's worse when you try to work out. Always sneaks up from behind to grab you, accusin you of excersing for hours just to tease him. So you find your self in Nanami's lap, cock warming him as you try to catch your breath from your workout. "Aww.. Poor baby, so tired. Don't worry, won't take long. Dicks been so hard watching this whole time. Help me baby, please. You're the one that did this to me.." Christ you cant even get any sleep round your torturer, most nights waking up to his dick hard between your thighs. This times he's awake, thrusting slowly as he holds you to him tight, growling your name at your ear. "Been waitin for you to get up. Look what you did to me.. Throwing that ass on me in your sleep. Come on, y/n. Lemme fuck. Took everything in me not to fill your sleepy lil pussy. Deserve a reward, huh? Gonna help me out?" Not like he needs it since you already feel his first load starting to dry on your thighs.

corrupt!Nanami doesn't have any more patience for you excuses on why you can't give him a baby. Tired as fuck of talking to you about it. So takes it to the next level and starts to plot on you, replacing your birth control with placebos. Then.. He waits to catch you off guard one pitch black night when you're walking to your car from class. You're energy completely drained, you just don't hear him swiftly comin at you from the side. A huge gloved hand blanketing your lips, trapping your scream. Nanami's snatches your wrist together, brawny body restraining you to the car. You struggle against him, too fuckin weak to curse him due to your overwhelming day. But he knows that already; deceitful ass went through alotta trouble to make sure your itinerary was extra full today. "Shhhh." You ignore him, the familiar voice and planes of his muscled chest against yours back not registering, buckin and tryin with all your might to break free. Fuckin turnin Nanami on watchin you attempting to escape, juicy ass repeatedly trapping his dick between your cheeks as you wiggle wildly against him. He ain't waiting a second longer. Fuck your screams, he'll deal with whoever interrupts him accordingly. Lets go of your mouth to rip at your bottoms like they're paper, making your struggles double. Might as well be laying limp, absolutely no match for the 1st grade. Nanami unsheathes his cock, spitting in his hand generously and lubing up. You're body's tense as fuck when you feel him stab through your opening. Pitiful insides clutching his dick like a dear old friend. "Loosen the fuck up woman.." The fuck? "Nami?!" He let's go of your wrists, slamming his hands on either side of you to trap you further. "I told you to be quiet." Snatches your head back by your hair and thrustin the rest of his dick into you. "Nami!" Shrill cry piercing the air. It's uncomfortable without foreplay to prepare you, still he digs you out without remorse. "Shhhh, y/n.. shhh." Nanami squishes you to the car, molding your body to his. Strokin deep as he can, like he'll never see you again. Literally fuckin loud moans from your throat, so damn good that its not your fault your gettin wet; slick building and forming a white ring around him. "Shhhh. Screamin your fuckin head off, baby.. So you not gone listen? Never do. Just like when I told you I wanted to breed this perfect cunt, make you give me a pretty baby. But you didn't listen then either. Now look what you made me do." So that's what this is? The revelation makes you try to get away again but Nanami's hold on your locks keeps you right where he wants you. Sharp yanks that makes you shriek, scalp stinging. "H-hurts, Nami. 'M sorry. So sorry." You whine to him, body fallin pliant against your car. But your husband rolls his eyes. He aint buyin your BS this time. "Naw, you gonna take this nut. Gonna give me my baby, woman." Pulling you off the car and into his body, your husband pummels your lil puss likes he's in heat. "Ahhh fuck, y/n.. Love you. Love you more than anything, finally gonna show you how much, honey." You're disgusted. At doin something this at the school. At him for startin a family like this. Most importantly, at yourself for still loving him, knowing that this changed nothing between the two of you. Even as he breeds your lil puss without consent. "Here it comes- ohshitohshit! Daaaamn, y/n.. Got so much for you. Mmmm.. So good for me. Thank you, sweetheart. Thank you so fuckin much. Only want a baby with you. Only you, y/n. Always been only you." Youre whining when his hips still, Nanami pressin his dick deep as possible when he finally impregnates you. "Love you so fuckin much, honey." "Love you too, Kento.. Fuckin asshole." He chuckles, pulling out and tucking you into the car. "Let's go home, sweetheart. Gonna make your pretty lil pussy cum before I fill her up again." "Kay, Nami."

[lynnlovesspidahman]

fearless.

peter parker x reader

masterlist

word count : 901

warnings : none :) just happiness.

summary : swinging with peter. — not that swinging you perv. web-swinging (bad joke.)

i did write this with insomniac’s peter in mind but any one of them can work here!!

“No.”

“What? Why?” Peter pouted at yet another decline of his offer, his bottom lip sticking out.

“Don’t make that face. You can’t convince me into this one.”

Peter’s been trying to talk you into swinging across the city with him for a long time now, ever since he had first told you about his alter ego.

You absolutely refused.

“Okay, 1. You know how I get with heights,” He rolled his eyes as you continued, “2. What if you let go of me? I mean, how am I supposed to even hold on?”

“I would nev-” He motioned his arms to form an X.

“Hush, I wasn’t finished. And 3. What if someone sees us? Then I’ll really be in danger. All of your “fangirls” would come for me.”

“Very valid reasons, honey. I love the way you argue with me to get your way every time,” He sarcastically remarked.

“Whatever, Pete. I’m sorry I don’t wanna die early,” You crossed your arms and let out a hmph.

“You saying you wouldn’t die for me?” He put one hand on his heart, pretending he was hurt by your comment.

You didn’t answer, the best you could do was stay quiet and ignore his antics. No way in hell would you go swinging with him, no matter how hard he’d tried to persuade you.

“Oh, so now you’re ignoring me.” He took a step to close the space between you, “I’m sorry, honey.”

“What?” You raised an eyebrow, and turned to face him, “For what?”

“For this.”

He grabbed your waist and hoisted you onto his hip, “Hold on tight,” He smirked as he pulled his mask down.

“Peter,” He ignored you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, trying to grip onto him as tightly as possible.

“Peter, I swear to God if you ju-”

He ignored your warning, and jumped off of your apartment building’s rooftop.

As you were free falling, you screwed your eyes shut completely. You would’ve screamed, if it weren’t for the fact you were focusing on trying to securely wrap yourself onto your boyfriend.

You heard his web shooter make a thwip noise as you felt yourself floating upwards now. And downwards again.

“Open your eyes, honey.” Peter whispered, he seemed so relaxed. On the other hand, your stomach was still doing flips.

You peeked one eye open, and were immediately in awe.

New York has never looked so beautiful.

The sun was setting, and was peeping through the many buildings along the horizon. Each building had so many little squares of lights, from their windows.

“It’s amazing,” You let out a breathy laugh, and looked over at Peter through his mask.

“Is this what you see everyday?” You beamed, if you weren’t as high in the air as you were, you would’ve been jealous of him.

“Yeah,” He let out a breath, “This is why I’ve wanted you here. This is what I’ve wanted you to see.” He looked back at you.

“Eyes on the road, don’t let us crash. Please.”

“Okay, okay,” He laughed.

He started to swing a little higher, and you couldn’t decide if you wanted it to be over or not. It was breath-taking, but terrifying.

He aimed at the roof of a building, and stuck the landing, luckily.

You still had your legs wrapped around his waist, and your arms locked around his neck. Whether you were on stable grounds or not, it was still high up.

“You can let go now, honey, I promise it’s okay. We’re done, now.” He reassured you as he giggled at you still being scared.

“I’m okay, after that, I don’t even think I can trust the ground. How did you do that?” You made eye contact with him through his mask.

“Do what?” He cocked his head to the side.

“Hold onto me for so long! While swinging!” You widened your eyes at him.

“Super-strength, sweetie,” He winked with the eye of his mask. You almost hit him, he was so corny. But he was so adorable.

“Peter!” You were in a fit of giggles.

“Did you have fun?” He pulled his mask up just enough so you could see his lips and the tip of his nose.

“Yeah, somewhat,” You let go of him, finally. “But don’t you ever — and I mean ever — surprise me like that again.” You made your face all serious, to show you really meant business.

“Alright, alright. I’ll try and warn you in advance next time,” He stuck his hands in the air, as a surrender.

He was so cute, you thought.

“I love you,” You smiled at him and stood on your tiptoes as you leaned into his face.

“I love you, too.” He leaned into you, and kissed you.

You wrapped your hands around his neck, as he grabbed one of your cheeks and the back of your head.

Ending the kiss early, you pulled away and brought him into a hug, swaying him back and forth.

“My place?”

“Sure,” He smirked.

“No. We’re walking this time.” You took a step back. He didn’t stop smirking.

“Peter- No, please!” You begged him as you both laughed.

He grabbed onto you and jumped before you could let go.

You hated him for a moment, but as soon as you felt his grip on you, you forgave him immediately.

Swinging isn’t so bad, but you wouldn’t tell him that.

just a short lil fluff for yall. i’m so addicted to playing spiderman again and i just can’t stop writing. 😗

(john bubniak marry me)

hopefully you all enjoyed!!

likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated!! 💗💗

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

Hi, I love your writing! I'm not sure if you are doing the erotic horror prompts anymore but if you are, then may I request a Prompt 9 OR 34 with John Wick?

Hi, thank you so much, Anonymous. It means the fucking world to me!!! Allow me to express my gratitude with some predator/prey:

(I know these are supposed to be horror, but I keep turning them into fluff. Please forgive me🥺❤️)

“So, the first rule of self defense is run,” John says, giving her a heavy, doubtful side eye that speaks volumes about his faith in her to do so. 

“Second?” She asks, arms crossed, foot tapping, watching him stalk circles around her like he’s going to drop her at any moment - her heart patters wildly every time she sees his step slow or his eyes move to a vulnerable part of her body, even though she knows that whatever “tells” he exhibits are actually fakeouts and dead ends. Just a way to get her nerves worked up so that she’s taking him seriously.

He stops in front of her, places a finger in the center of her chest, and she knows he could give a little push and she’d be flat on her ass.

But he doesn’t. He smiles. “Hide.”

She rolls her eyes. “The third?” 

“Fight. And -“ he moves his finger against her bare skin, drawing her eyes and attention, then flicks her lightly on the forehead as punishment for falling for it. “Don’t roll your eyes at your superior.”

She rubs the pink mark. “Ow,” she tells him, even though the trick only stung a tiny bit. 

“Now say, “yes, master.”” His eyes light with mischief. 

Every piece of her fucked, masochist body wants to fight him on that if only to earn more brutality for it. But this is supposed to be critical training, even though her trainer isn’t taking it as such.

She figures that she’ll be the determined one, for once, so she tips her head, straightens her shoulders, and says, “yes, master.”

His eyebrow raises behind untamed bangs. “Good.”

“Did you take that from a job orientation class?” She asks him.

“What?”

“At jobs, they use the ‘run, hide, fight’ for active shooters.”

He shakes his head no, but it’s so hard to tell when and if he’s fucking with her…

“Have you ever had a normal job?” She wonders aloud. 

He shrugs. “Then you already have the basics down. Excellent.” He continues circling. “Start small,” he says. “Then, work your way up.” 

She nods, although annoyed with being ignored, continue.

“So, we start with running.” 

She cringes. The mere thought of him watching her run laps is painfully embarrassing. 

Wanting to impress and not kill this before it even gets started, she keeps her mouth shut. 

“I’ll give you a minute head start.” 

Wait, what did he say?

She almost laughs. “We’re racing?”

His grin is worrying. “No, I’m chasing you.” 

In that case, she wants to ask for at least a five minute head start; eyes his thick, long legs. The taut muscle is visible shifting and tensing, even under his baggy sweatpants.  

“You’re going to catch me,” she tells him, wanting to argue about this being unfair. 

“Then you’d better start running,” he replies, flipping his wrist over to check the ticking time. 

“What - where am I allowed to go?” Cool sweat collects at the nape of her neck. 

“Anywhere.” He’s still looking at his watch, waiting patiently. 

“When are we starting?” 

His eyes flit up, glint at her, then focus back on the dwindling time. “Five seconds ago.”

Prickling anticipation drives her to argue. “How is that going to help me? Just running all day so you can keep catching me? Pretty soon I’ll get tired and will just give up and let you catch me.” 

“Oh, that’s what I forgot to mention,” John murmurs.

Anger anxiety cocktail spikes. Forgot to mention? There’s a lot of shit that he’s conveniently forgetting to mention.

“If I catch you, I tickle you.” His grin grows into a sharp-bladed tip.

“John,” she says, voice worried, which delights him. “That is not fair. You’re going to catch me and you can’t just tickle me all day when you do.” 

He’s a reasonable man. He’ll see her issue. She’s valid in her concerns, and they both know it. 

“Yes I can.” 

“Are you serious?!” 

“Uh huh.” He taps his watch face. “Thirty seconds.” 

Her shoes slip on the cushiony matts, landing her on her knees before she can start bolting.

He resists the urge to go to her. Thankfully, she’s not down for long, or else his concern would get the better of him. 

She stands and runs. Up the stairs, already panting and sweating, adrenaline an ache that builds higher the farther away she gets from him. 

Out the door of the gym, down the hallway, trying not to fall again and losing precious time because of it.

She’s in the cold before she knows what she’s doing. Her t-shirt does nothing to cover her from the frost, but fear and physical exertion help her stay warm. 

Down the left block, then ducking through an alleyway, wondering if he’s on her tail by now. 

Blessedly, there’s no snow on the ground, so she’s not leaving any footprints. Also, that means she can go faster and not have to worry about falling. 

She rushes a corner and almost takes out an older man walking his dog, so, of course, she has to stop and profusely apologize.

“It’s fine, dear,” he chuckles.

She pats his friendly Labrador on the head. “Are you sure?” She looks him over, and he seems okay. Her memory says she ran smack dab into his frail frame, but maybe it’s just her psychosis acting up again. 

“I’m alright, dear, where is your coat? Your skin is ice cold.”

“Oh, I left it at home, just going for a jog,” she replies, trying to be casual. 

His fluffy dog pushes a wet nose into her hand and nuzzles her out of more attention.

“This is Sam,” the older man introduces. “He is very friendly.”

“He’s amazing,” she says, using both hands to stroke blonde, cold fur. 

“Are you training for a marathon?” The man asks. “I hear there’s a big one by Macy’s next week.” 

“No. Just exercising.” She smiles up at him, wondering how to politely break this conversation off and save her own ass. 

Behind him, about half a block down, is her pursuer and teacher.

It would be better if he looked disappointed. So, so much better. 

Her hand stills on Sam’s head. 

That expression would be a glare if his mouth wasn’t pulled up at the seams. His eyes of brilliant brown are blown black. Like a shark. No, too intentional to be a shark - it isn’t pure hunger that drives him. 

Gotcha.

Fear is the only thing she’s capable of feeling for a couple of seconds as she forgets what, exactly, is going on while an instinctual and ancient part of her remembers what it’s like to be hunted.

She’s going to feel really bad, later, about turning away from a nice man and his dog without so much as a goodbye and sprinting the opposite direction.

That trepidation just coils tighter the more she runs. She wasn’t built for this. Her legs are too short, her body too pillowy to gain any sort of momentum, her lungs too small for the air required in running. 

It’s nothing but luck and adrenaline carrying her down crossroads and alleys. 

She spares a glance behind her, and almost feels like she’s winning when she doesn’t see John. 

It’s because he’s in front of her. 

At the end of the gravelly side street, lounging lazily on the wall. 

Michael fucking Meyers, that’s what this reminds her of. You never see him moving, but somehow he’s always catching up to you. 

She almost falls again when turning around to dash the other way, but manages to keep a shaky, vertical grip on earth.

John surpasses her, the easy stride of his legs infuriating, and plants himself in her path so that she runs smack into his chest. 

There’s no time to get away. He already has her biceps gripped tight. 

She winces, writhes, glower resembling more of a pout. 

“When you run,” he says, kissing her head with a soft mouth that contradicts his hard grip. “You zigzag. Go every direction. Never in a straight line. Never predictably. You have to not think about where you’re going, but focus wholly on your destination.”

“Helpful tips that I should have known earlier?” She tries, grinning dryly.

He chuckles. “If I just tell you, you won’t learn. Which reminds me: Let’s take you home and get you warm. I owe you some merciless tickling, don’t I?”

“I was hoping you’d forget,” she groans. “Second chance?” 

“You’ll get plenty of chances,” he assures, leading her back to where she came with a big arm wrapped around her shoulders to keep her warm.

[spiritually-a-blorb]

in light of me being a little silly, a little sillier, and finally reaching my silliest peak, I would like to introduce my favorite cringefail loser and give you headcannons about him

- Lester still had slightly purple veins after the possession. it was barely noticeable, but his blood, and therefore his veins, were a little darker. he just never points this out

- Lester had a little bit of a scuffle trying to get to California in the burning maze, and he literally never told anyone. just as a little silly. this is why he wanted maple lemon cronuts. he got in a fight at some random bakery (beacuse he wanted to get food for everyone) and he managed to snag food for everyone but himself

- Apollo visits Sweet on America, the place Sally used to work, and he'll get different candies his kids like, or he thinks they'll like. he is surprisingly successful at this, and now he keeps candy on his person at all times, like a grandma does

- Lester's complaints about memory loss were valid, for one. but the second thing? just for a lil spice, I think trying to access those memories hurts him just a little, enough for the brain to try and block those memories out. that's why his memory is super faulty. his brain is literally working against him

- Lester is checked over by Meg after every fight they have after The Big Stab™️, and she feels extra guilty when she finds out how tarquin was turning him into a zombie

- Lester was separated from Meg in a crowd once, while they were getting to the Tower of Nero. he flipped his ever-loving shit and proceeded to yell her name so loud he broke a window. Meg never got separated from him again

- Meg will do this thing where she will mispronounce words on purpose beacuse she knows that it annoys Lester. Lester eventually uses those mispronounciations in multiple haikus, and presents them to Meg in a written and stage performance. Meg has never been so annoyed and so touched in her life once she remembers that those were her mispronounciations. she then demands financial compensation for her words being used in said haikus

- Apollo (post ToA) does actually help herophile start some game shows. he gets her a nice setup and everything, and she soon becomes well known for her successful shows, both on normal channels and Hephestus TV.

- Meg eventually goes out and sees the ToA books on some bookstore shelves, and buys the entire series. she gets a lot of secondhand embarrassment due to Lester sometimes, but she enjoys re-living some good memories with her dummy. plus she likes hearing what the Arrow of Dodona actually had to say.

- Conversely, Apollo literally shrivels up in a ball when he finds out that Meg read the entire book series. he just lays there with his hands over his face while his kids swarm Meg to get her to show them the books. Apollo does not want to live through that, but he stays as they read the entire story. they all end up in a massive cuddle pile by the end

- Eventually, Artemis meets Meg. she kinda likes her by the end, but is somewhat jealous of the sibling relationship she has with Apollo. Apollo just likes seeing his two sisters get along. Meg, however, is a little conflicted as well. This is her annoying dummy, and someone else telling Apollo that, even in jest, grates on her a little (unless he deserved it. then she adds on)

- Apollo really likes fries. The big reason is they are cheap, and he would get a meal with the money they had at some gas station or fast food place, and give Meg the meal and just eat (and share) the fries. He did this right up to The Burning Maze, but only beacuse Aloe Vera kinda snitched on him to Grover. Aloe Vera only found out when she saw him climbing back down into the maze to eat the strawberries.

- Meg was super upset when she found out about the fry thing. Apollo insisted he was fine, and that he didn't need as much food as her, since she was still growing. She was a little more mad when she realizes she had been growing food that was meant to help in combat, and Apollo had to double back to get some, or he went hungry.

[toriisasimp]

Chapter 1 of ?: Just Ask

An Egon Spengler x fem!reader Mini Series

Prompt: Yet another Ghostbusters press event is nearing, and once the secret is spilled of a certain scientist who wants to take you as a date, you decide to investigate for yourself.

Warnings: None!

A/N: First chapter of a mini series I’m working on. Not sure if it’s actually going to be a mini series or a full fic, but we’ll see! Egon and reader have already kind of been flirting with each other. You’ve also been working at the firehouse for a few months now. Enjoy! <3

-

It was nearing dinner time, and Janine had clocked out early for a date with Louis. You bid her goodnight with a warm smile and wave, and settled yourself behind the receptionist desk, propping up your feet and opening up one of the books you sneaked from Egon’s collection in the lab.

Finally, some peace and quiet..

You hear your name shouted by Peter, who comes stomping down the staircase with Ray hot on his tail.

“Go cool your boyfriend! He won’t listen to us!”

“..He’s not my boyfriend, Venkman.” You specify blankly, only briefly peeking over the top of your book to eye him coming around the corner and walking up to the desk.

“It sure seems like he thinks so.” Ray pipes up, folding his arms.

“What did you guys do to upset him now?” You flip the page, ignoring Ray’s comment.

“We didn’t do anything. He’s just throwing one of those dramatic fits of his where he shuts completely down and doesn’t speak to anyone, other than snapping at Ray for eating all the Cheez-Its.”

“Valid reason to be upset.” You shrug it off. You and Egon are both extremely territorial over your snacks. So much so that you end up labeling them with a permanent marker so the other boys know what they can and can’t touch.

“Not the point. The point is, you need to go up there and work your..” Venkman wiggles his fingers. “Womanly magic to get him to break. It’s getting annoying.”

“What? Not having him correct your incorrect scientific so-called ‘knowledge’,” you throw up some air quotes, “That you just spew out on a whim is annoying?”

“YES.” Ray and Peter both speak at the same time.

You huff and slide the bookmark back into your book before shutting it, pulling your legs off the desk and setting the book down before you rise up.

“It could be that he’s upset because of the gala.” Ray murmurs, more in Peter’s direction.

You pause halfway to the steps, turning your head back around.

“What gala?”

The two of them look at you like they’re a deer in the headlights.

“Whoops.” Ray grits his teeth.

“The gala at the Museum of Natural History? The one you guys got invited to? What about it?”

“You see, he was going to-” Peter starts talking, before Ray sends a fist to his gut from the side.

“Peter!”

“What?” He throws his hands up. “She’s gonna find out soon enough!”

Ray rolls his eyes and grumbles, looking away as Peter rubs the spot on his stomach before continuing.

“He was going to,” His voice lowered a few notches. “He was going to ask you to be his date. But I’m convinced he’s having some emotional conflict and mood swings because he doesn’t think you want to go with him.”

You stand there, in slight shock. “He told you this?” You perk a brow.

“He tells us a lot, kid.” Ray speaks up again, folding his arms once more and leaning against the desk with a slight tilt of his head.

“Of course, ‘bro-code’ or whatever. I get it. I���ll ask him about it-”

“NO!” They both stand swiftly.

“Why?” You stop again, at the bottom of the steps.

“That man will literally, and I mean literally, have our heads if he finds out we told you about that.” Peter pleads.

You go back and forth glaring at both of them, rolling your eyes before sighing.

“Fine, fine. I won’t ask about it.” You slowly start making your way up the steps to the next floor. “But please, give us some privacy. Do not eavesdrop.”

“That’s the spirit, go rub one out for your man!” Peter whoops, and you shake your head.

“You’re disgusting, Venkman.”

-

At the top of the steps, the soft music from a boombox on the kitchen table grows louder, and you spot Egon, with his back facing you. He’s at the corner workbench, hunched over a microscope.

You slowly approach, tugging your shirt sleeves over your hands and folding your arms. You admire him for a moment, how he’s so focused, his hands subtly turning the knobs of the machine to scope in on the slide he’s examining.

“Spengler,” You speak up, and Egon doesn’t even jump, he just murmurs your name in acknowledgement as he stays put in his hunched position.

“Are you doing alright?” You walk up to the bench, leaning against the corner, tilting your head slightly.

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be alright?” He speaks again, finally rising up and turning to scribble down some notes in a nearby open notebook.

“Just checking in..” You murmured defensively, approaching even further to stand next to him. “What are you working on?”

“Logging ectoplasm samples,” He turns back from the notebook, catching your gaze for a short moment before hunching back down over the microscope. “Could you help me put them into the system?”

Egon knows how much you genuinely enjoy assisting him in the lab, and you’ve told him to always ask if he wants help.. Or just wants some company.

“Can I see it first?” You motion to the microscope.

“Sure.” He nods, stepping back and giving you space to see the slide for yourself.

You step up to the microscope, squinting one eye so you can see into the scope. The plasm is moving on the slide, the cells wiggling ever so slightly. You stand alone for a moment, before you feel Egon’s hand come to gently rest on your waist.

“What can you see?” He asks, a bit softer.

“Well, it looks like it’s doing a little dance!” You giggle, still intrigued by the slime.

“It’s Psychomagnotheric, which means it responds to human emotional states around it. Positive and negative.”

“You must be pissed or something, cause it’s moving a lot-”

“Aaaand that’s enough of that.” You feel both of his hands on your waist now, pulling you back from the microscope.

“Maan, I was just kidding!” You pout, throwing your hands up and laughing.

“Grab the computer, please.” He shoos you away, and you put a hand up, shaking your head before you spin around and snatch the chunky laptop off the workbench across from you, turning and sliding into one of the swivel chairs at the table before opening the laptop. Egon slides over his open notebook, full of listings and observations of the slime you had looked at.

You immediately get to work putting in the notes into the logging system. You feel an itch in your head to bring up the gala.

“I heard that gala at the museum is in a few days. Are you going?” You ask. Start vague.

Egon freezes at the microscope, rising up to look at you.

“Are you?” He asks in return, not answering your question.

“That depends, are you?” You shoot back, perking a brow and pausing your typing.

You swear you see a slight tint of pink on Egon’s cheeks, as he shifts and leans against the workbench.

“I’ll go if you go.” He states as casually as possible, even though his discomfort is visible.

“I was gonna go if you went.” You shrug, trying to making it as relaxed as possible.

“We could go together.” He adds, his eyes not leaving yours.

You glance down at the computer for a brief moment before looking back up at him, taking your turn for the heat to creep up to your cheeks. You silently nod.

“Are you going to wear a tux?” You ask before your brain can stop you.

Egon tilts his head, a subtle smirk playing at his lips.

“Why? Does it matter to you?”

“No, no! I’m just.. curious. If it’s black tie, then I’m just.. just curious!”

“Curious.. right. Well, I don’t go to many social events, but perhaps I’ll make an exception and see what I can find.” He keeps his eyes on you, folding his arms across his chest- the smirk still stamped to his face.

An exception?

You nod. “Sounds good. We’ll go together.” You state again, setting it in stone- sending him a smirk of your own before looking back down at the computer, returning back to your work.

Egon eyes you for a few more seconds, noticing how the light of the desk lamp hit your face.. Jesus.

He quickly turned back to the microscope before he could get caught gawking over you, returning to the task at hand as well.

Both of you continued your work, and you were first to call it a night- around 2 AM. Egon’s hand brushed over yours as you handed him back his notebook, and he bid you goodnight- watching you walk away and disappear into the sleeping quarters.

Little did you know, he was sharing your same thoughts that night- imagining what the other was going to look like at the gala. But another thought teased your mind as you fell asleep.

If the slime reacted to positive and negative emotions from humans..

What else would it react to?

-

<3

[nattikay]

sure is interesting how the internet just loves to accuse Avatar of being a carbon-copy-ripoff of Dances with Wolves, Pocahontas, Fern Gully, etc. but never seems to accuse Dances with Wolves, Pochanonas, or Fern Gully as being ripoffs of each other. Surely if Avatar is exactly the same as all these movies at the same time then all those movies must be exactly the same as each other too right! But no, for some reason it’s fine when those movies share similar tropes and themes, but when Avatar does it, using those tropes is suddenly some lazy and derivative sin against storytelling, apparently.

Yes, Avatar does share a lot of themes and tropes with all these movies, no one’s denying that. But guys. Dances with Wolves did not invent the “going native” trope. Fern Gully did not invent “saving the environment from greedy villains”. Pocahontas did not invent “foreigner falls in love with a native”. It’s ok for more than one movie to share these ideas for pete’s sake y’all holy flip

Heck, you could argue that in some ways Dances with Wolves and Pocahontas are more similar to each other than either is to Avatar since they are both historical fiction set in North America centered around the native Americans vs the Europeans, whereas Avatar is a sci-fi/fantasy set on an alien moon six light years away where the humans have hyperadvanced technology and big robots and the whole moon is covered in a massive neural network that the locals can tap into at will using the biological usb cable that grows out of their heads. “it’S jUsT pOchAHonTaS iN sPaCE” SO WHAT? Telling a familiar story in a unique setting is not some cardinal sin against storytelling and I’m tried of pretending that it is. Maybe “a Pocahontas-type story but in the future in space with aliens and a whole bunch of unique immersive fantasy worldbuilding” is kinda a cool concept actually, there’s nothing inherently wrong with or “lazy” about it.

Sorry to suddenly go off about this, it just seems that whenever I see someone (outside the fandom) mention Avatar on the internet they seem to have this weird compulsion to make some dismissive disclaimer about how the movie is silly and derivative before they move onto the meat of their analysis (whatever that may happen to be), as if they need to justify their mention of it lest someone judges them for having poor taste and tbh I’m tired of it.

Avatar is fine. You don’t have to preface every mention of it with a disclaimer about how it (supposedly) sucks. You don’t have to throw in a snarky “oh God forbid, this movie” when you bring it up as an example of xyz. Especially when the most popular “criticism” that get tossed at it is as shallow and silly as “it shares some tropes and themes with some other movies”.

if Avatar is genuinely just not your cup of tea, that’s totally valid! Like any movie, it’s not gonna appeal to everyone and that’s ok.

But if your perception of it is “it’s bad because everyone knows you’re supposed to make fun of the dumb blue people movie, Big Reviewer YouTuber called it Dances with Smurfs and said it was lazy”, maybe think for yourself for five minutes

[cherry-pop-elf]

Weasley Siblings Reacting To You Coming Out 🏳️‍⚧️ ((Trans Edition))

Some wholesome/projection because wah-! Also reader is under the impression of muggleborn, so muggle ideals would be different from wizards of course

Can he read as Platonic or Romantic! Clause Platonic love is valid af! I see you Ace/Just wanting stuff to not always be sex, folks!

Warnings: Transphobia,bullying ((not from the Weasleys obviously)) anxiety, depression, don’t worry it’s fluff just ya know. It’s scary coming out!

Writing Coms Open

((BTW this was in my drafts, and since Trans Visibility Day was today, it gave me motivation to finish it so let’s go-!))

William ‘Bill’

“Like Tonks-!” You did feel pretty silly, once he said that. Made you wonder why you waited so long. Literally you were friends with a Shapeshifter, so why would you coming out be so different? Oh right, what muggles would do if they knew. “Kinda, minus the whole ya know….Changing on the whim. Wish I could do that-“ You muttered, as Bill would pat your back. The pair of you, ever cozy in the library. Special permission to access the resurrected section, since he was being interned at Gringotts for curse breaking. Meant you had some privacy for such a sensitive topic. “Hey, we can find a way to. Right? It’s magic. I bet you my lucky dagger that the twins probably have something in the works.“ He comforted, and it made you smile. That Bill. Always finding a way to brag about his younger siblings somehow. That was just the cutest thing to you. Just a big brother, finding a way to show off his family. Helped a lot. “Whatever you need, I’ve got you. I know muggles do stuff differently, and a lot isn’t really to positive-“ Bill was the eldest, so it made sense he would be more informed with muggle culture. If his band shirts were to say anything. “Like name changes and stuff. Got a new name you like?” There was something so weird about how casual he was. Just, casual. It was a field, but also felt off. Like something bad should have happened. Maybe it will. Until then, though, you were happy to tell him your new name. “Suits you-!” He smiled that awkward half smile, given the other half didn’t exist anymore. “I like it.” And he was soon ruffling your hair. Older brother habits. They don’t die easy, and you were greatful for it.

Charlie

“Like Tonks-!” Why did you get Déjà vu? You shook it off, before nodding. “Yes, minus the actually changing my gender and stuff.” You clarified, as he multi tasked with the latest baby dragon Hagrid had gotten. Charlie just couldn’t resist, and now you two were stuck in his hut. Hagrid off to find someone to take said dragon, while Charlie treated it like a puppy. Kissing its snout, and making it squeal in utter delight. Despite the slobber, and despite the heat. One of the reason you trusted him with such a secret. His heart was so big, and he held such passion. Not to mention, you hoped he could help you get out of your shell a bit. Such a loud, and proud, man. Also, well, imagine trying to bully someone who’s buddies with the dragon tamer. “Neat-! So do I flip flip between pronouns, like Tonky, or you got new ones-?” You swore he was paying more attention to the dragon, than you. Weirdly, you liked it. He didn’t treat it as life or death, which healed something in you. He didn’t care, but in that good way. That it didn’t change how he saw you. Or, maybe you just asked at the right time. You had to shake his shoulder, to remind him you were still there. You two shared a laugh, as he went on rambling about how beautiful the dragon was, as you were able to relax a little easier.

Percy

“Trans-? Like as in Transfiguration? Finally, actually focusing on your studies.” You were already regretting this. You figured Percy would be someone to confide in, since he was a prefect. You were being bullied by the muggleborns, but the thing is….Hes a pure blood. He didn’t really understand what being trans was. So, you tried to explain. “Percy, they were making fun of me because I was born different.” You tried to explain, as he was starting to pay a bit more attention now. “They saw me going to the bathroom, and immediately threw books at me. It’s not like I don’t mind Moaning Myrtle, but it’s hard to pee with company.” You sniffled, as it was settling in now. “I’m so sorry, I’ll handle this immediately. I….Let’s go take you to the medical wing, to make sure you are patched….Could you explain more to me about this trans thing? Why it makes you different?” It’s a start. He’s willing to learn, and that’s more than so many. That gave you comfort. He’s confused, but willing. With his arm around you, you did your best to wizard it to his language. To get it out of your system, and for once? Percy stayed quiet, and listened. It’s a start, and you couldn’t be happier.

Fred

“Swear you are like the fifth person to tell me that this month-!” He laughed, as you blinked. Despite the prancing dynamic of the twins, they had grown a bit over the years. Suppose the older brother energy they held just drew in comfort. It’s easy to confide in them. They may not act like it, but they can keep a secret. Guess the courtyard was just a hot spot for such. “Wait, why are you telling me this anyway? I knew the moment I met you-!” He snorted, with an elbow nudge to you. Honestly? You were certain he was joking, but you wondered if he did. “About bloody time you figured it out yerself! Not sure how that whole thing works, but I’m sure George and I can brew something up for ya. Need a beard? Or bigger hips? I’m sure we got something-“ That had you roll your eyes. “Sounds like an excuse to turn me into your personal lab rat-“ That had him blink. “The hell is a lab rat?” Right. Pure blood. “I’ll explain it to you later. Just, promise not to tell anyone? I’m….not ready yet.” Fred seemed like he was ready to argue, about needing to just be passionate about who and what you are, but he was hushed. As if he could already hear Molly yelling at him. That was trauma for another occasion. Instead, he made a zipping motion to his lips, and threw away the key. “Thanks.” You smiled, as he gave a thumbs up. Pretending he couldn’t speak at all, and it got you to giggle. Calmed your nerves down just fine.

George

“That’s uh….That thing-! Yeah-!” He bullshitted, but you understood why. He’s the more emotional side of the dynamic duo. So many kids come to them for advice, but more come to George. You would pay a guess that many who went to Fred were actually looking for George, but didn’t realize it was Fred at all. You only managed, because he was wearing his Quidditch Jersey. Least, you think it was his. Shit, was this Fred? Nope, Fred walked by. With Angelina. Phew. “George, do you need me to explain?” You asked, as he rubbed his neck nervously. Embarrassed he wasn’t instantly able to comfort, like it was his only job. “It’s a muggle thing, breathe.” And breathe he did, as he laid back down on the common room couch. With a quick run down, it clicked. He’s an inventor, they are good at thinking outside norms. “Oh! Oh man, that sounds stressful as hell. Hey, anyone starts shit-“ He gave a sharp click with his tongue, and made a shooting motion with his finger. “Consider them chucked into a vanishing closet.” And given he’s a Weasley, you didn’t underestimate him. So, instead, you hugged him. A big, warm, squeeze. Of course, it was returned. Oh those Weasleys.

Ron

“Would you be offended if I go ask Hermione what that means-?” Least he’s honest, and knew better to ask her than anyone else. Hard to ever get alone time with him, as he was glued to her and Harry. Surprised to catch him alone, for once, and took the chance while you could. Now to just look at your breakfast plate, nervous. “I’ll just explain it, the best I can.” You sighed, as you saw Ron wince a little. Feeling he did something wrong. “It’s a muggle thing-“ You quickly said, as he breathed a little easier. A few nervous gulps of juice, and many confused brows, it clicked. "Woah, that sounds terrible. I rememberer when Harry and i had to drink a polyjuice potion. we were still the same gender, and all, but my skin just felt so wrong. Everything was wrong. was just a suit, and i wanted to peel it off. Even if it hurt." You had to stare. That was just so accurate to how you felt. Your eyes watered. “Did I say something wrong, again-? I’m sorry about-“ But you hugged him, with your eyes in his shoulder. Don’t get Ron started on how many times he’s had to be the shoulder for Harry. So, like a time turners clockwork, he held you back. Comforting you. Someone got it.

Ginny

“Think I’m that to-“ Ginny said, as you two just laid in the grass. Just trying to relax, from a long school day. “Like, maybe it’s just because I was raised by a bunch of brothers. Just, being JUST a girl feels weird. Like I’m more than that, I’m not JUST that. Maybe I’m feeling something else entirely. Never been the same, after that book.” She admits, ready to stress her out all over again. Voldemort did a number on her. What a way to start Hogwarts. Damn. “Well, maybe don’t think about it too hard. It’s both super complicated, but not at the same time. It’s more a feeling than anything else. You can be born it, or maybe over time it changes. Maybe by tomorrow you feel something else. Then, the next day it changes.” You tried to explain, as you watched the clouds. “Yeah, like magic.” She agreed, as she looked to her broomstick next to her. Thinking back to her childhood. “Maybe I am a guy, but Mum being so excited to have a girl just….Made me feel like I HAD to be….” God was that relatable. “Trans buddies?” You asked, and offered a hand. In a playful solidarity. You figured that would comfort her, or maybe now he. “Yeah, Trans buddies.” Ginny smiled, as you shared hands. “Jean sounds nice.” Ginny said. “Jean does sound nice.” You agreed.

[not-goldy]

Went from don't fling it at Jimin, to I hope he flips over.

Went from I miss you/Me too, to I miss members instead.

Went from guarding sleeping Jimin, to walking past him.

Went from Hate Everything cause your sick, to hope you get sick again.

When I was free you didn't come. When you free you still didn't come.

JK in his villain era. Tell me you had feelings, without telling me you had feelings.

Lol.

I been watching and writing my notes in my journal till we get the whole content to see the big picture but here's a sneak peak of my notes don't know if I should just do a screenshot🥴

I think he had his guard up at the start of filming. He kept saying he didn't know what the outcome of the show was going to be and kept asking if Jimin wasn't worried about that too. He was obviously on edge and stressed about it which is on brand for him.

He gets worked up around Jimin and acts stressed sometimes when there are cameras around them especially ones he doesn't trust. And Jimin can be a bit unpredictable and he doesn't know how to react on cue to him when he's being flirty flirty and risqué. I use to say this all the time that these little moments affirms to me that these two have something hide cos Jungkook wouldn't be so tensed around any member in such situation.

You know how Jungkook went off script and was all up in Jimins space doing fanservice and Jimin was a bit on edge? Sort of like that, he didn't know what Jungkook was going to do in that moment and so he got nervous.

Jungkook is like that too.

Though I wonder if the director didn't sit down with them and go over the vision for the show or whether- you know sometimes some directors in reality shows like to keep the cast in the dark or even apart and prevent them from interacting just so they can have candid moments good first time reactions from the members.

But evidently Jungkook was stressed out in the first takes. He even said kayaking had relieved him of some stress. But concerns about perhaps the shoot still weighed on him the first episode.

Also, he did seem a bit resentful of Jimin for neglecting him and you could tell he had tried to keep his cool when that was happening to not seem too needy.

I think I touched on this in an earlier post about them miscommunicating their needs. The problem with being told you are too needy or too reckless or the reason your secrets are almost nearly being spilled is you become too insecure to even ask for those emotional needs of affection.

And I think Jimin did so well placating him. He's matured in more ways than one. It was nice to see him not try to overwhelm him with skinship, overtly flirting and trying to out him on the spot. I think he allowed Kook space to be angry and let out his frustration without taking it on himself and looking sad about it.

I just smiled proudly of Jimin cos he got it right this time. Jungkook's feelings are valid and reacting negatively to them invalidates their feelings and steels the spot from them onto yourself which is a very terrible thing to do in an intimate relationship.

He gave Jungkook the attention he needed, pushing forward when he seemed susceptible and reeling it back when he seemed closed off.

In another life I want to be Jimin but with huge breasts.

And he gently called him out too. Like why are you angry you seem angry? Then he kept saying oh Jungkook is going to kill me if I do this wrong Jungkook is not gonna be happy about this- he just seemed quite aware of Jungkook's mood most of the time.

Oh and I loved Jungkook slowly letting go, he'd compliment Jimin's hair and clothes, try to reassure him when he messed up like no it's okay you did great. And in the end he said he was actually grateful Jimin came.

You could tell Jungkook had psyched himself up to deal without Jimin's attention. He seemed quite closed off superintendent but never avoidant.

Honestly that I hope Jimin flips was me when I'm mad I be wishing people step on leggos and shit😁🤭🤭🤣

Like he was so real for that.

And when he said of this moment reminds me of V, Jimin went I miss him and he was like should I call him? Would you rather do this with Jimin bitch just sit there pretty and let me go off on you😩🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Jimin lost it too with that Namjoon comment 💀🤣

But I dont think his saltiness went past those first episodes I'm afraid. Usually when he's doing these things for Jimin that you talk of its from a different place, sometimes he's genuinely worried for the safety of Jimin especially being around people who won't hesitate to take opportunity of them. He's a protector it's who he is. I think he has those natural instincts.

V I think was the first to say how nice lying on the floor was and they all rested on the floor and even took pictures and Jimin eventually fell asleep there.

When he got to Jimin he stared at him for so long you could tell he was contemplating what to do and I think if he thought the place wasn't a good place to rest he would have asked him to get up or just lifted him off to be honest.

Then he and Jimin had that moment when Jimin was teasing him about not being a good parker and he went you're one to talk😭😭😭😭😌😌😌

My man can't park for shit and yet he keeps running his mouth 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

It sounded a bit diabolic to me that he would say he wished Jimin would flip too etc I think on the surface he would have had a good laugh but I think deep down he wanted Jimin to feel his pain. He wanted to see Jimin also be vulnerable and perhaps needing him too. It's the human in him.

That man been suffering from chest pains in silence for months and those first episodes was his time to shine🤣🤣🤣🤣

And Jimin knows how to handle his man and he handled him so well😌😌😌😌😌😌😌