#rebthom89

[worksby-d]

So protective stepdad!Chris has been living rent free in my head all day. I had an idea for it I wanted to toss your way. If you don't like it or aren't inspired, that is TOTALLY fine, but what if Chris is having a day where he's super stressed and his anxiety is getting to him and Ripley is the one that notices him acting different and makes him feel better? You've done so many great examples of him taking care of her and I feel like it could be super cute to see that dynamic flip.

this is such a good idea, thank you for sharing 🥺❤️

pairing: chris evans x reader, chris evans x stepdaughter

summary: your daughter notices chris is feeling down, so she tries her best to cheer him up, the only way a 6-year-old knows how.

word count: ~1000

series masterlist

~~~

“Hey kiddo,” he says, looking up from his laptop. He's sitting at the table when Ripley walks in the room to get a snack. “What are you up to?”

“I don't know,” she shrugs. “I’m hungry.”

“Need help finding something?”

“Mmm,” she hums looking through the cabinet. “No,” she shakes her head, finally grabbing some fruit snacks. Walking over to the table to see what he’s doing, she notices him yawning and rubbing his forehead. “Are you tired?”

“Yeah, you could say that,” he chuckles at her concern, amused at the fact she can tell something’s wrong. “I’m okay though, just working.”

She finishes her fruit snacks and leaves him be, setting out to find you.

“Mom,” she calls, peeking her head in your room where you’re working on folding and putting laundry away.

“Hey sweetie,” your face lights up seeing her. “Come in here,” you wave at her to sit on the bed with you. “What have you been up to?”

“Nothing,” she answers, pausing before going on. “Why is Chris sad?”

Furrowing your brow at her question, you look down at her sitting next to you. “How do you know he’s sad?”

She just shrugs, mumbling a little. “He's yawning, and he's not smiling.”

You know work’s been getting to him more than usual lately, and you feel bad, but hearing your daughter say she can tell, you're proud of her for noticing and being concerned.

“Well, why don't you try cheering him up?” you suggest.

“How?”

“Remember how I always cheer you up?”

“Yeah,” she giggles, and you can practically see the gears turning in her head.

“Then go,” you encourage her, playfully shooing her off the bed.

Chris is in the same spot when she enters the kitchen again a while later. So engrossed in whatever he’s doing, he doesn't notice Ripley standing beside him until she pokes his bicep to get his attention.

Not even giving him a chance to ask what she's up to now, she grabs his hand. “Come with me. I have a surprise.”

Hanging his head, he lets out a short laugh. “Okay,” he looks at her again. “I suppose a surprise is a good reason to take a break."

She leads him to the living room, advising him to sit on the floor where she has pillows and blankets laid out, along with her caboodles she keeps hair accessories in and your makeup bag.

As he sits down, he disguises his laugh as a cough, completely amused at what she's set up. “What is all this for?”

“I’m giving you a beauty day,” she explains as if he should know already. “Mom does this for me when I’m sad.” It clicks for him then, realizing she caught onto his stress, but at her age she’s registering it as sadness. “I’m gonna do your hair and your makeup.”

“Oh, I see,” he nods. “I should have known. Silly me,” he shakes his head. “So what do we do first on a beauty day?”

Instead of answering him she says, “Alexa, play Taylor Swift.” A proud smile grows on her face as “Shake it Off” starts playing. “We listen to music. You can sing along if you like, but you don't have to.”

“Oh good, I’m a little shy,” he whispers, causing her to giggle.

“Then you put this on,” she says, handing him a pink headband. “It helps me not get makeup on your hair.”

He chuckles, but doesn't question her, happily putting the headband on. He has a hard time keeping a straight face as she's instructing him to keep his eyes closed so she can do eyeshadow. “Keep them closed, I don't want to poke you!”

He asks what she's looking for as she's shuffling through the contents of the bag. “Lipstick,” she answers. “Mom has different colors, I want you to pick. Oh, got it,” she exclaims, moving to sit on his legs again. “Do you want red, purple, or pink?”

“Purple?” He’s genuinely thrown off. “Why does your mom have purple lipstick?” Ripley just shrugs, waiting for him to choose. “I want pink,” he finally decides.

“Okay, go like this,” she instructs, sticking her lips out in a kissy-face so he can copy her. “Good job,” she smiles when he does it.

Moving onto his hair, she sits on the couch behind him with all her stuff beside her. She takes the pink headband off so she can comb through his hair. “Do you want pigtails or pretty clips?”

“Hmm,” he pretends to ponder. “That's a hard choice. What do you think will look better?”

“Clips so we can do different colors.”

“That's what I was thinking,” he agrees.

While she's placing her colored butterfly clips throughout his hair, you walk into the room and can't help the laugh you let out. You make your way around the couch, getting a good look at Chris’ makeup and hair.

“You're making him look so pretty, baby,” you giggle. “Can I join?”

“It’s Chris’ beauty day so you have to ask him,” she tells you.

“I guess you can join my beauty day,” he sighs dramatically, patting the space on the floor next to himself.

“Hi,” you smile at him once you're sat down.

“Hi,” he smiles back.

“You doing okay?”

“Yeah,” he carefully nods so as not to move too much. “I am now.”

You lean over to give him a quick kiss, but he must turn his head too far because Ripley scolds him to stop moving.

“Yeah, stop moving,” you play along, hitting his leg, and he rolls his eyes.

“Done,” she announces a few moments later, climbing off the couch to give him a handheld mirror so he can see the makeup and hair.

“Wow,” he muses, taking in the blue and purple eyeshadow look paired with the pink lipstick. “You did so good,” he commends her, tipping his head forward to get a good look at all the clips in his hair. “I’m pretty like you and your mom now.”

“Do you feel better?” she asks, taking the mirror back to put it away.

“Come here,” he holds out his arm so he can pull her in for a hug. “I feel so much better. Thank you.”

~~~

Tag list: @chris-butt @patzammit @denisemarieangelina @thummbelina @pppsssyyyccchhhiiiccc @princess-evans-addict @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @la-cey @turtoix @katiew1973 @harrysthiccthighss @tvckerlance @bluemusickid @sunflowercaptian @rocketrhap3000 @mrspeacem1nusone @mjey12 @what-is-your-plan-today

[wkemeup]

freeze! 💫 you are under arrest for being so lovely! 💗💓💘 copy this message to ten other blogs that you think are beautiful and deserve it! 💗 keep the game going and make others feel beautiful! 🌸🌷🌟

[cloudystevie]

Hey Jasmeen! Congrats on 3K!! For your sleepover, FMK with Ransom, Johnny Storm and Frank? Congrats again!!

thank u so much!!!🥺🥺

fuck: johnny because hes hot man ekjdkskdksk

marry: listen... idc i wanna marry frank🥺🥺🥺 hes so mean and gruff on the exterior but hes actually so soft and i know hes be so sweet i just wanna love him<33

kiss: ransom because thats all he deservedkfjkwjfkd

come join my 3k sleepover!

[stardustedangel]

💗☁️💘💓🦋💫💗💓 this is a tumblr hug, pass it on to your ten favourite followers and mutuals!! 💗☁️💘💓🦋💫💗💓

eeek!! thank you muah!!💓💓💓💓

[inkriddeniris]

⚡🌊✨💖⚡☄️If you're receiving this, you make someone happy💞🌊⚡💖✨☄️ go and send this to 10 people who make you happy or someone you think might need some cheering up.💞✨🌊✨⭐☄️ If you get it back then the better 🌊💞💖⚡✨

AWWW you’re so sweet. Thank you for making Tumblr and my life a better place.

[hansensgirl]

🌼~BEAUTIFUL PERSON AWARD! Once you are given this award you’re supposed to paste it in the asks of 8 people who deserve it. If you break the chain nothing happens, but it's sweet to know someone thinks you’re beautiful inside and out.~🌼

ah thank you so much angel!! 💞💕💞

[rebthom89]

This page will be updated as new fics are posted. More characters to be written. ~ updated 2/17/21

Please do not repost my works. Likes, reblogs and comments are loved and appreciated. Requests are open, but I make no promises to write every request.

Chris Evans x Reader

You’re Not That Monster - Angst ~ 803 words

Happier ~ Angst ~ 1745 words

Dreams Come True ~ Fluff ~ 1608 words

A New Pup? ~ Fluff ~ 562 words

CHRIStmas Day ~ Fluff ~ 793 words

Man’s Best Wingman ~ Fluff ~ 722 words

Ransom Drysdale x Reader

The Christmas Tree Standoff ~ Angst to Fluff ~ 1725 words

Chris Evans x OC

Three Times Dodger Was Exactly What Dani Needed and Once That He Knew She Needed Someone Else ~ Fluff with a bit of Angst ~ 2373 words 

[itsallyscorner]

Blindsided

Pairing: Sam Wilson x reader

Summary: What happens after it’s announced that John Walker’s the new Captain America.

Warnings: none; a bit suggestive at the end? This is my first time writing for Sam so if it’s a bit meh, I’m sorry, I tried😭 Lots of dialogue!!

A/n: This is a bit of a short one, but I hope you like it:) I know this isn’t how he found out in TFAWS but ya know :D Also hate the character NOT the actor, don’t hate on Wyatt Russell😤

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎

“Look, here’s the thing, uh, I’m—I’m not Tony Stark. I’m not Dr. Banner. Okay? I don’t have the flashiest gadgets, I don’t have super strength. But what I do have—is guts.”

John Walker’s voice bounces off the walls of the cozy Louisiana apartment you and Sam shared. With the saved money you both had, you guys managed to purchase a decent apartment. Being two of the known remaining Avengers, your landlord was quite flexible with rent. Having the two of you in his building was like having built in security.

The apartment was just right for you and Sam. There was a living room, a kitchen, two bedrooms, and a bathroom. You both didn’t need much. As long as you had each other, you were both satisfied. Besides, with Sam working with the Air Force on missions, you managed to get roped into following along—which meant you two weren’t always home.

The morning sun shined through the window of your living room, reflecting onto one of the white walls across from it. The sun created an orangey yellow hue to fill the room, radiating the warmth and cozy aura of a sunny Louisiana morning. Though compared to the domestic and calming aura, Sam was the complete opposite. You couldn’t see his facial expressions but the way his shoulders tensed from behind was enough to tell you that he was upset.

After a week (I’m honestly not sure) of donating Steve’s shield to the Smithsonian, it’s been revealed that the government has taken the shield and handed it to some—in your eyes—Steve Rogers wannabe. As someone who’s worked alongside Steve and consider him as family, it angered you to see some random man parade around the world with Steve’s shield and title. This Walker dude has no clue of the responsibility and value that comes with the shield—like seriously using halftime of a football game as an opportunity to pull a PR stunt as Captain America? He’s literally just America’s mascot.

Though you were bubbling with anger, you couldn’t imagine how your boyfriend felt. Steve gave him the shield, passed down the role of Captain America to him and sent him off to fulfill the duties he couldn’t do anymore. Yes, Sam made a promise, but after dabbling with the thought of becoming the new Captain America he decided to give it up. You weren’t going to question him, it was his choice and you understood why he made it. Nobody could fill Steve’s shoes.

You turn the stove off, deciding to check on Sam instead of continuing breakfast. The clip of John Walker was still playing on the tv when you enter the living room. You get a glimpse of his face, betrayal filled his eyes as he glowered at the tv screen. You carefully make your way towards him, settling beside him on the couch. He glances at you before shoving his head in his hand.

“Sam...” You wrap an arm around his back, your palm feeling the tension build between his shoulders.

“He trusted me with the shield.” He began, his voice low. “He trusted me with it and now it’s in the hands of—whoever this person is.” He gestures to the tv that showed John Walker speaking to a blonde interviewer.

“Steve believed in me to carry on his legacy and I just threw it away because I was being selfish.” He fumed, his tone raising. He shot off the couch and moved to pace around the living room. You sigh, giving him a moment to get his thoughts together. You patiently waited for him to calm down, watching him mutter sentences to himself under his breath.

Slowly, you get up from the couch and approach him. Deciding to stand in the way of his path, he comes to a halt. The conflicted expression on his face softens at the sight of you.

“Listen,” You start, arms snaking around his torso while his hands naturally grip onto your hips. “You didn’t know the government was going to go behind your back and deem someone else as Captain America. None of us were expecting this to happen. You can’t beat yourself up for something you didn’t have control of.”

Sam breathes out and tries to move out of your arms. Betrayal and guilt consumed his body.

“That’s the thing, (y/n). If I hadn’t given up the shield in the first place, we wouldn’t even be in this situation right now. I had control of all of this, even if I didn’t know about their hidden agenda.” He bursted out, brows furrowing together in frustration. You tighten your arms around him.

Sam defeatedly lowers his head, “This whole thing is so much more than me being blindsided by the government. I promised Steve that I’ll do my best. He trusted me and in return I broke my promise to him. I let Steve down.” He confessed. Silence filled the room, the only sounds heard were the quiet murmurs coming from the tv.

You were the first to speak. “Steve made mistakes too you know? Besides being a super soldier and all, it’s what made him relatable to everyone. Before he became Captain America, he was just like us. Humans who wanted to do good for the world and bring peace to its chaos.” Your words caught Sam’s attention, although he was a bit confused to where you were going with them.

You continued, “Like almost every human in the world, he learned from those mistakes. Yes, you may have had control of the current situation we’re in, but that doesn’t contradict the fact that you had no knowledge of what was happening behind the scenes. Steve chose to give you the shield for a reason, Sam. He knew that if something were to go wrong, you would be there in an instant to make it right.”

You shifted closer to him and cradled his jaw with both of your hands. “You gave up the shield and now it’s in the hands of the wrong man. I know you’ve always said that it feels like it belongs to someone else. But would you rather it be in the hands of someone like John Walker or in the hands of someone Steve believes in? Are you gonna sit here and feel guilty about it or are you going to get up and make things right?”

Sam’s eyes bore into yours. Conflict flashes in his dark orbs, his jaw clenches, and his hands resting on your hips gripped onto your skin tightly.

“We’re gonna get his shield back.” He proclaimed.

A small smile forms on your lips, “One way or another.” You confirm.

Bonus:

“You know, you’re getting good at that whole speech thing.” Sam remarks, pulling you closer to him. That infamous toothy grin of his taking over his features.

You chuckle letting your hands venture on the expanse of his chest before wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Well I learned from the best. If there’s one thing I learned from Steve it’d have to be his way with words.” You shrugged. Sam hummed in response.

“If I’m gonna be getting that shield back, I’m gonna be needing some help on those speeches.” He says, a suggestive tone to his sentence.

You smirked, amusingly shaking your head at him. “Good think I know plenty of ways to get you to talk.” Sam takes that as his cue to connect his lips with yours. His eager hands wander your body as he leads you towards the couch.

Before things can escalate, you pull away and place a finger in between your and Sam’s lips.

“Not now hotshot, we’ve got a mission in a bit and we still need to stop by Sarah’s before we leave.” Sam doesn’t get the chance to object since you’ve already pushed him off of you. Your hips swayed as you made your way back into the kitchen to continue cooking breakfast.

He stutters at first but chases after you going on about how much of a tease you were and how unfair it was to him and his needs.

“I told you I had plenty of ways to get you to talk.” You smirk, innocently shrugging at him.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

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[worksby-d]

Hello! I hope you are having a great evening :) I wanted to say that I absolutely LOVE A Great Mentor! I do have one question though. If I just missed it as I was reading, I apologize, but in your story, where does Laurie fit? I love the series and am willing to follow it absolutely anywhere, but I was just wondering if she and Andy were divorced or if she'd passed away or how exactly you saw Andy's story pre-reader having worked out. Thanks!

hi! thanks! yeah no, you didn't miss it haha i haven't addressed that yet because i feel like i'm not a good enough writer to get into it 😅 i guess in my mind, they're just divorced, and on decent terms. like they're not bffs, but they also don't despise each other. kinda just fell out of love at some point because of the stress on their family. i've also thought about the fact that they still have mutual friends/acquaintances, so they run into each other at things. i've gotten requests about this, and i swear i'm not ignoring anyone, i just don't know how to work that in because i don't see it being anything super angsty lol

masterlist: a great mentor

[lipstickbisous]

𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐫𝐚 → 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐟𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞

new url everybody!! tagging my friends under the cut

friends: @ronimina @fairyevans @letters-to-esme @moonlight-onyx @mickey-henry @certainaesthetic @bloomingbucky @darlingsteve @balenciagabucky @littlenymphie @donutloverxo @fluffycutecevans @flowerbouquet @punani @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @eun-dadplease @faeryloki @danneelsmain @bitchassbucky @writersbuck @holdontorogers @rebthom89 @kailee-phoenix-holtzanon @gwenavibra @bvckysmoon @sohosteve @a-little-counter-esperanto @babyyhoneyydarling @mariawarren @hevans-angel @buckysdaydreams @evanstan-hoe @superhoeva @buckyhoney @agentofbarnes @bluemusickid @bluberryboy @uncensored-steve-the-platypus

[laurenwritesfics]

The Pieces We Leave Behind

CHAPTER ONE: FRANK

Mary had buried herself in books again. She was a curious and intelligent young girl, but her love of reading was turning into obsession. So much so that Frank was beginning to worry about Vitamin D deficiency. She looked a little too pale. He usually hauled her out of her chair – met with screams and slaps of protestation – and took her to the beach or the park for ice cream, but today, he was piling her into the car to meet with the school principal. Mary had been accused of bullying, and Frank wasn’t going to let it stand.

“This is so stupid.” Mary huffed and crossed her arms. “I didn’t do anything.”

“I know, just get in the car.”

She rolled her eyes, slipping her backpack off her shoulder, throwing it onto the seat beside her. The engine of Frank’s 1974 sedan sputtered to life. Frank’s mother Evelyn called it a rickety rust-bucket, but it was his pride and joy – second only to his sweet, silly niece, who was currently sulking in the back seat.

That was the thing about Frank Adler. He didn’t fix broken things, he just knew when something was worth saving. He saw potential that nobody else could.

He was the first to break away from the family. He was tired, he said, of living a Stepford lie.

This was how he came to be Mary’s guardian. After the death of his sister Diane, the Adler family was irreparably splintered. In the midst of Evelyn’s grief, she had swept Mary up into a life she would never become accustomed to - piano lessons, private school, badminton, early bedtime and absolutely no television.

At just seven years old, Mary was wide-eyed and wise. A headstrong child who sometimes alarmed Evelyn with her ability to face the world fearlessly. Her teachers referred to her as ‘gifted’, which made Evelyn’s eyes light up. She was just like Diane. That was the beginning of the end of Mary’s childhood. Night after night, she would be tucked into bed with a book. As the months went by, childhood favorites were replaced with educational textbooks. Mornings started with a pop quiz. Her social circle grew smaller. She eventually found herself so frustrated by her restrictive life with Evelyn that she once threatened to run away, as children often do. But Evelyn knew that Mary meant it. So when it did finally happen, the thing that shocked her the most was not the act itself, but the fact that, of all people, Mary ran to Frank for help.

At ten years old, Diane scored her first grade A in mathematics. From that moment on, Evelyn decided to live vicariously through her daughter. She had devoted her youth to solving the Navier–Stokes problem (one of the unsolved Millennium Prize Problems), but had never been successful. Frank was the only one who saw her slowly disappear. Forced into a mold that didn’t fit her. He watched Diane suffer through countless socialite soirées, nodding politely, eyes glazed. He was the last person to call her. He found her. He blamed Evelyn.

She would never believe that the cause of death was suicide. Diane was so happy, she said. So intelligent. So perfect. Of course, perfection didn’t exist. She learned this a mere month later when her marriage fell apart.

Mary was the only piece of Diane that was left.

Frank knew that if Mary stayed in Boston with his mother, history would repeat itself. So he intervened. He sent care packages all the way from Florida. They called each other weekly. Six months into what Frank referred to as her kidnapping, he received a phone call in the middle of the night. She was uncharacteristically subdued. Whispering. Her voice trembled. She was trapped. Four hours later he was bundling her into a taxi. It wasn’t going to happen again. Not on his watch.

Evelyn would never forgive him, but he didn’t care. Frank loved his mother – he always would – he just didn’t like her.

The more time Mary spent in Florida, the more she began to dislike Evelyn, too.

It was an unspoken rule that Evelyn was informed of Mary’s achievements. She didn’t much care for the other things – the friendships, the slumber parties, the times she cried herself to sleep from stress and in fear of bullies – those were Frank’s problems. The only problems she cared about were mathematical. She didn’t visit on Mary’s seventh birthday, but she did attend the parent-teacher conference that came after it. Frank was sure that if Evelyn set foot in the principal’s office she would have a heart attack on the spot. So, here he was, driving Mary to school to correct the misinformed adults who believed that his niece was capable of hurting another child.

“Slow down!” Mary caught Frank’s eye in the rear-view mirror. “Mom said never go to bed or drive angry.”

“I’m not angry.” He said, almost flatly enough to mask his frustration.

“Yes you are.”

Frank tapped his index finger on the steering wheel. He counted to ten in his head, exhaling slowly.

“Fine, I’m angry.” He admitted. “These stuck-up bastards don’t know what they’re talking about.”

“Don’t swear.” Mary chided.

“Sorry.”

A short woman with a thin, pinched face emerged from the principal’s office.

Mary was leaning against the window, chin in her palm, counting the trees that passed by, partly to keep herself occupied, partly to quell the anxiety that was swirling inside her. She was always quiet, focussed, and polite. She went out of her way to make friends with the other children. This was entirely unfair. Back in Boston, she had spent time in almost every school in the city – co-ed, prep school, all-girls, but she never stayed too long. She was either too inquisitive, too restless, or – ironically – too smart. Sometimes it felt as though she didn’t belong anywhere at all.

Weaving through the long line of cars in the school parking lot, Frank stopped awkwardly and swung himself out of the car, keeping tight hold of Mary’s hand as they made their way inside. The occasional echo of chatter and footsteps cut through the otherwise silent hallway. The closer they got to the office, the easier it was for Mary to breathe. It was going to work out. Frank would take care of it. He had a talent for charming people into submission.

“Who’s that?” Frank straightened his shirt, still stained with oil and sweat from an afternoon spent fixing up a boat for a local fisherman.

“Mrs Weston.” Mary half-whispered, shrinking in her chair a little. “We hate her.”

Frank huffed, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “Yes we do.”

Then, an interruption from a harsh, husky voice.

“Mary Adler?”

Frank turned to Mary, slapping the arm of the chair. “Looks like we’re up, kiddo. You okay?” He tilted his head in concern.

“I guess.” Mary shrugged, her shoulders sinking for a moment before she pushed herself forward and took hold of Frank’s hand again.

The woman’s eyes narrowed and roamed over the two of them. She pursed her lips, paused, and finally spoke.

“Principal Mitchell is unavailable this morning.” She said curtly. “Vice-Principal Madeline Weston. Come in.”

Rustling papers. The pronounced tick-tick-tock of the clock on the wall. An awkward cough. Frank shifted in his seat, a creak eliciting from beneath the adult weight it clearly wasn’t made to support. Leaning out of a slouch, elbows resting on his knees, he tented his fingers and waited for the inevitable stretching of the truth. He raised his eyebrows expectantly, locking eyes with the woman who clearly didn’t know Mary at all.

“Do your worst.” Frank muttered not quite far enough under his breath.

“I take it you’ve done this before, Mr Adler?”

“Once or twice.”

A judgemental hum. “Then I’m sure you know why you’re here today. Mr Adler, your daughter-“

“She’s my niece.”

Madeline crossed her legs and adjusted her lapels. “Your niece is disruptive. She is preventing the other students from learning.”

“How, exactly?”

“Interruptions. Selfishness. Questions in math class are answered almost exclusively by Miss Adler.”

“Yeah, probably because she’s the only one who knows the answer.” Frank scoffed.

“Do not insult the quality of education provided at this school, Mr Adler.”

“I’m insulting the students. Mary can do so much better than here. She’s so smart – too smart.” His voice deepened, even and impassioned. “If you just took the time to get to know her-“

Madeline cut him off. “We don’t get to know the children here, Mr Adler. We encourage their talents.”

Frank tried and failed to fight the push in his calves compelling him to stand up. He tapped Mary’s shoulder and made his way to the door. Whether she liked it or not, Evelyn was going to hear about this.

“This is bullshit. Mary, we’re done here.”

Launching herself out of her chair with a scowl, Mary followed Frank back into the hallway.

“So that’s the Wicked Witch of the West, huh?”

Mary exploded into laughter.

The sun beat down on the asphalt as they re-entered the parking lot, hands pressing against searing metal, the air thick and musty inside the car. Frank adjusted the rear-view mirror, turned the key and hooked his arm around the passenger seat as he pulled away.

“Buckle up, genius. Let’s go get some ice cream.”

Read chapter one HERE. Read the full series on AO3.

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@denisemarieangelina​​​​ @thesecretlifeofdaydreamss​​​​ @brattycherubwrites​​​​ @cherrychris​​​​ @celestialbarnes​​​​​ @the-iceni-bitch​​​​ @caplanbuckybarnes​​​​​ @caplanreads​​​​​ @autumnrose40​​​ @mashep23​

[stardustedangel]

Hey love, I know we've never talked on here before but I just had to reach out to you and say this. You Make Me Feel Blue was absolutely beautiful. You moved me to tears with it and I know you said that it makes you sad to see it but I hope that with time you can be proud of what an amazing work of art it is. I know nothing I say will make those feelings just disappear but if you're ever looking for someone to talk to, I am here and would be happy to listen. I hope the pain eases for you soon <3

hi! thank you for sending this in it means a lot <33 and i’m happy about how many people i ending up comforting when posting it. that part makes me really happy. thank you so much and if you ever need to talk i’m here for you too 💓💓💓💓

[inkriddeniris]

💘💐 send this to the twelve nicest people you know or who seem to have a good heart and if you get five back you must be pretty awesome 💐💘

Shucks!!!!

[hansensgirl]

Hi! Once you get this you have to say five things you like about yourself, publicly, then send this to ten of your favourite followers (non-negotiable) SPREAD POSITIVITY 💌😘

oooh uh

1. my handwriting

2. my writing style

3. my sense of style

4. my taste in music

5. my love for literature

thank you so much bb!

[firefly-graphics]

Dodger Evans / Dog Dividers

This was a request from @rebthom89​​ and felt like Dodger deserved his own post to showcase these dividers. He is the cutest doggo ever. Chris Evans isn’t so bad either... (if you would like them in different colours then let me know).

Please like and reblog if you use or save.

Requests are OPEN

Dividers List

[worksby-d]

💗☁️💘💓🦋💫💗💓 this is a tumblr hug, pass it on to your ten favourite followers and mutuals!! 💗☁️💘💓🦋💫💗💓

oh myyyy hugs to you too 💞💓💗💖💝