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fanfictionlive · 3 minutes ago
When someones subscribes and unsubscribes in the same day
I post a little one-shot for father's day. It does as about as well as a new gen fic in a big fandom can do. User subs go from 6 to 7. Happy until they tick back down to 6 a couple hours later.
Overall mood: ;-;
submitted by /u/TsarDixon [link] [comments] from FanFiction: Where Magical Ponies battle Imperial Titans
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deanwanddamons · 6 minutes ago
Against All Odds
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Summary: For Dean, a certain song always provokes memories of Y/N, the woman he loved and lost. He thinks that getting her back is against all odds. Is he right?
Pairing: Dean x Female!Reader 
Word Count: 3.6K (including lyrics) 
Warning: Angst, arguing, Dean and his self deprecation, some swears. 
Bingo Squared Filled: @anyfandomangstbingo - Break Up
Song Inspiration: - Against All Odds by Phil Collins.
A/N: As always thank you to my girl @winchest09. I was struggling with writer's block and lack of motivation, so she gave me a prompt. This was a line from the Phil Collins song ‘Against All Odds’ so I ran with it. She also beta’d this for me. You are my cheerleader, my bestie and my constant support. I love you. I would also like to thank my pre-reader @cockslut-padalecki
A/N 2: Please don’t hate me! 
Dividers: @firefly-graphics​ and @talesmaniac89​
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He was so lost, so empty. 
She had walked away, taking his world with him.
It had hurt to breathe, as though the air was too thin, the oxygen having been sucked away when she left without a trace. 
How could a freakin’ song by Phil Collins, of all people, evoke so much emotion? he thought. 
Dean huffed out a low chuckle at the image of the expression Sam would have on his face, if he ever discovered his classic rock loving brother secretly listened to this song through headphones while alone in his room. As usual, though, he kept his feelings buried deep inside him. He had not spoken about how much her leaving had affected him, but it still hurt. Really hurt. 
He shouldn’t be torturing himself this way, he should have gotten over her by now. But he hadn’t and at this moment, even though it had been such a long time since it had happened, he didn’t think he ever would. 
Dean glanced down at his cell. He lightly clicked the button and the phone illuminated, his Home Screen displaying his favourite picture of two people clearly in love. The smile on his face was genuine, his head resting on Y/N’s shoulder. 
He remembered the day the snap was taken as though it was only yesterday, when in fact, it had been over two years ago. 
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“Where are we going?” Y/N queried for the umpteenth time. 
“You’ll see when we get there!” Her boyfriend answered, giving her the same response he had every time she had asked. 
“Rude.” She crossed her arms over her chest, a mock pout on her lips. 
“You’ll love it. I know you will,” Dean said, turning his head towards her, his green eyes glinting with glee. 
“How far away is it?” 
“Only about another 10 miles,” he grinned, gently taking her hand before leaving a gentle kiss on the back of it. 
“You know I hate surprises,” she smirked, but he was aware she was only teasing him. He knew she loved them really. 
They continued the journey in comfortable silence, their hands entwined, the only sound being the faint rock music coming through the speakers, and the distinctive rumble emitting from Baby’s engine. Y/N wasn’t familiar with the route they were taking, and they had been driving for over an hour, so was even more intrigued when Dean turned the Impala off the asphalt onto a dust track.
The turning wheels left a plume of sand behind them as they rolled over the uneven ground, the chassis bouncing up and down, jostling them around in their seats. 
“I know it’s not the most comfortable road, but it’s not far, baby,” Dean said, running his hand along the dashboard. It suddenly dawned on Y/N that he may not be talking to her. 
“Were you telling me that, or the car?” She chuckled knowing full well what his answer would be. 
He turned to her with a grin. “Just offering her some reassurance. My girl doesn’t like rough terrain. Unlike my other girl, who does like it rough.” He wiggled his eyebrows at his words.
Y/N rolled her eyes, feeling the warmth hit her cheeks at his comment. Dean knew how to push all of her buttons with just a look, and she couldn’t deny that she did enjoy it when the man next to her took charge. She loved it when he took control. 
“I hope you’re not bringing me out here to murder me and bury my corpse in the middle of nowhere,” she said, ignoring his last remark, “Sam will tell the police that you,” she poked his shoulder with her index finger, “were the last person to see me alive.” 
“Rumbled! Although, you know I wouldn’t bury your body,” he paused, “I’d burn it.”
She rolled her eyes. “That’s good to know. Thanks for the reassurance.” 
As the car turned a corner, Dean’s surprise came into view. The landscape opened out, the dirt track coming to a sudden end and in front of them, was a huge, majestic waterfall. 
Y/N’s mouth opened in shock, her eyes widening at the sight. She adored waterfalls, asking her boyfriend to find one in every state they visited on hunts. He never disappointed, searching online to discover the nearest one to them, wherever they ended up. Some were underwhelming, merely just a trickle rather than a full on barrage of water, but she loved them just the same. This one, however, was enormous. 
She opened the door and stepped out. No words had yet passed her lips, but Dean could tell by her body language how in awe she was. She stood at the edge of the canyon, her gaze transfixed at the beauty ahead of her. She didn’t even flinch when he wrapped her arms around her, placing his head on her shoulder.  
“Good, huh?” he whispered softly in her ear. 
Spinning them both around so the waterfall was now behind them, Dean brought his cell phone up, capturing a picture of them. The photograph showed how happy they both were at that moment. 
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Three Months Later 
Having just returned to the bunker from a hunt in New Jersey, they’d had an argument. Something that had been happening more and more lately. They had started bickering over small things like what radio station to have on when driving, what take out food to have, but each had become increasingly heated. 
This particular one was about the lore of how to kill a shapeshifter, of all things. She was convinced that iron would kill them, when Dean was adamant it was silver. They were both extremely stubborn, neither one wanting to back down. To his dismay, Sam had been brought into the argument and when he had reluctantly proved that his older sibling was right, she stormed off into their room. 
Dean had jumped up from his seat at the war room table to go after her, but his brother had grabbed his arm, stopping him. 
“Leave her, give her some space. She’ll come out when she’s ready.” 
Dean shook his elbow out of Sam’s grip, dropping back down into his chair. He brought one palm up to his face, sighing loudly as he pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. He loved her, he truly did. But this stubborn streak of hers, her complete lack of ability to accept when she was wrong, was getting him down. 
“I’m going out,” Dean huffed suddenly, his chair scraping along the floor. “Let her sulk. She can be so childish sometimes. She can’t stand it when I’m right.” He angrily swiped his jacket off the back of his seat, jamming his hands in his pockets. 
“Where are you going?” The younger Winchester enquired. 
“Bar. I need a drink,” he informed, stomping across the room, his boots loud on the wooden floor. 
“I’ll come with you. Stop you from doing something stupid.” Sam stood, putting on his coat. 
Dean turned to glare at the tall man who was following him. “I can look after myself, Sammy. You don’t need to babysit me.” 
“Tough. I’m coming anyway.”
Dean paused, his back still to his brother. His shoulders rose and fell as he took in a deep breath. “Fine.” 
Making their way to the garage, the older Winchester slid automatically into the driver's seat of Baby. “If you insist on coming with me, then you’re driving back,” he told Sam, who in return only glared at him, his brow furrowed. 
“What’s going on with you two?” He asked quietly, knowing full well they had been arguing as tonight’s slanging match had not been the first he had witnessed. 
“Nothing I can’t handle,” the green eyed man growled as he started the Impala, the distinctive roar of it’s engine echoing around the space. Dean stepped on the accelerator and wheel span out onto the road. 
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Y\N popped her head out of the room she had shared with Dean for the last few months. Turning her head from side to side, she listened for any of the familiar sounds that told her the brothers were at home. She was met with silence. 
Tiptoeing down the corridor in her bare feet, she leaned around the door frame of the kitchen. Empty. Next she did the same thing to the war room. Both Dean and Sam’s jacket were gone from the back of the chairs they usually hung on. She sighed in relief. 
She had originally thought that she was in love with Dean. When they had first met, she had fallen for him very quickly. At the start he was the sweetest partner and a fantastic, selfless lover. But his insecurities had soon started to rear their ugly head. He was convinced he wasn’t good enough for her, certain he didn’t deserve her affection. She believed he did, told him endless times she was exactly where she belonged and wanted to be. His self deprecation had caused many a fight and she couldn’t deal with them any longer. They were too similar, too stubborn and neither of them would ever admit they were wrong. 
She had been thinking about leaving for a few weeks. But Dean had always managed to change her mind. This evening, however, had been the straw that broke the camel's back. Yes, he was right, and yes she was the one that had stormed off. But he hadn’t even attempted to discuss it with her, didn’t try and smooth things over. And now it looked like he had gone out, no doubt to drown his sorrows at a bar, which was something else he had been doing a lot recently. 
Rushing back into their room, she grabbed the bags she had hurriedly packed off the bed. Slipping on her shoes, she took one last look around the place she had called home for so long. She now needed to venture out on her own. But not to be a hunter. No, she’d had enough of this life and wanted out. She knew that Dean would never agree to it. Never leave the family business. Never leave his brother. So, if she was going to do this, it had to be now and it had to be solo. 
Taking a deep breath she moved through the bunker towards the garage, heading for her car. When she got there, she noticed Baby was not in her usual spot. Her boyfriend - well, now ex-boyfriend- had obviously gone out. Seemingly, his brother had gone with him. For this, she was grateful because if she had to face them, she didn’t think she would be able to go ahead with her plan. 
Fumbling with the catch on the trunk of her beat up Ford Torino, she pulled it up and hauled her bags in, slamming it shut. Opening the driver's door, she climbed inside. The enormity of what she was doing suddenly hit her. Tears she had been holding in slid down her cheeks as she rested her forehead against the steering wheel. 
Was she doing the right thing? Would she be able to survive alone? Would she miss Dean too much, despite his mistakes and self hatred? 
Lifting her head, she swiped at the tracks on her cheeks, started the engine and drove out before she changed her mind. 
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The Winchesters returned to the Bunker about three hours later. Throwing his jacket onto the war room table and seeing there was no sign of his girlfriend, Dean immediately headed for their bedroom. 
He opened the door, expecting to see Y/N asleep or sulking on the bed, but she wasn’t there. His vision was slightly blurred from the copious amounts of bourbon he had downed at the bar, but when his gaze landed on the bedside table and he noticed the framed photo of him and Y/N at the waterfall was missing, he began to panic. 
Moving to her side of the wardrobe, he flung the door aside. He was met with empty hangers, rocking slightly from the force he had used. A feeling of dread started to creep up his chest as he walked the few steps to a chest of drawers. The top one was where she kept her underwear, so he pulled it forcibly towards him. Every piece of clothing that belonged to her had gone. 
He rushed from the room, his running footsteps startling his brother, who was lounging on a chair, his feet resting on the table, laptop open on his thighs. He sat up straight, dropping his feet to the ground, placing the PC on the ledge in front of him. 
Dean appeared from around the corner, a look of distress on his face. He headed for his coat as he spoke, “She’s gone, Sammy.”
“What?” The tall man questioned, pushing his chestnut hair out of his eyes as he glanced up. 
Dean grabbed his cell from his jacket pocket, waking the screen and scrolling his recent calls to find his girlfriend's number. He brought it to his ear as he explained what he had discovered in their shared bedroom. “Y/N. She’s gone. Her side of the closet is empty, and the framed photo of us isn’t there. Voicemail. Damn it!” He cursed as he slammed his phone down onto the table in annoyance. 
“Slow down,” Sam said, standing up. In one large stride, he was by his older siblings' side. “Maybe she’s just gone out for supplies?” 
“And took all her belongings with her?” Dean’s tone was harsh as he pushed his arms into the sleeves of his coat, pulling his keys from his pocket as he did. 
“You’ve had too much to drink to even think about driving,” Sam scolded. “Besides, where are you planning on going?” 
“I have no idea, man!” Dean exclaimed, his green eyes now filled with worry, “All I know is she’s not here, her things have gone and her cell is going straight to voicemail. You tell me, what’s wrong with this picture? What if someone or something has taken her?” 
“If that was the case, would her closet be empty?” Sam reasoned. 
Dean huffed, “Well that proves it. She’s left me.” He brought his phone to his ear again, clearly attempting to contact her, but judging by the flare of his nostrils and the shake of his head, it was obvious to his brother that he had got her machine once more.  
“Let’s go and see if she’s at any of her normal haunts,” Sam said, “I’ll drive, you keep trying her cell. Is her GPS on?” 
“Nope. She must have switched it off. She’s smart and knows we would use it to track her if she left it on.” 
Sam held his palm up for the keys to the Impala. Dean threw them to him, and they were caught with ease by the tall hunter. 
“Let’s go.”
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The brothers had searched for Y/N for months. Dean had tried her cell every hour on the hour, but never got a response. He left numerous voice messages to no avail. They drove around, looking for her every evening for the first two weeks, but this had trailed off when they ran out of places to go. They had even consulted Rowena to do a tracking spell, but this had not given them any further information. No one, natural or unnatural, had contacted them to say they were holding her for any reason, so they eventually came to the conclusion that she had left on her volition. All the while her GPS had stayed off. 
Eventually, things had returned to what the brothers treated as normal and they continued hunting. Dean had accepted that his girlfriend had gone, and didn’t want to be found. He wondered if they would ever run into her on the road, unaware that the hunting life was one of the reasons she had left in the first place, and she had, in fact, retired from it. He kept up the ‘such is life’ pretence in front of Sam, never telling him how much he missed her. But miss her he did, every single day, and he thought about her constantly. 
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When the song came to an end, he returned it to the start. As the piano introduction came through the speakers, Dean opened his phone. He hadn’t checked Y/N’s GPS for a while. Presuming it would be off, as it had been for the last two years, the flashing green light that suddenly pinned her location on the map shocked him. It showed she was currently in McClusky, North Dakota. 
He sat up in surprise, forgetting he had headphones on. The lead jerked his head back, so with a grunt of frustration, he roughly pulled it from the stereo. The sound of Phil’s forlorn voice blared into the room. He quickly jumped up from the bed, stabbing his finger at the off button on the turntable. He hoped Sam hadn’t heard the particular song he had been listening to, a wave of embarrassment flooding over him as he scrambled to silence it. Ripping the headphones off his head, he threw them down onto the mattress. Rushing from the room, Dean skidded into the kitchen, where Sam was fixing a shake. 
“Her GPS is on! I know where she is!” 
Sam turned towards his brother with a start, “Who?”
“Y/N! She’s in North Dakota,” he said, showing Sam the green light flashing on the map. “I have to go there.” 
“Woah. Take a step back dude. That’s, what, a ten hour drive?”
“Eleven actually,” Dean corrected, already getting his things together for the journey. “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he said, grabbing a cookie from the plate on the counter, and jammed it into his mouth, before moving quickly into the war room. 
“Dean! Wait!” Sam pleaded as he followed his sibling. “What if she doesn’t want to be found? It’s been two years man. I thought you had put her behind you?”
“What you think, and what I feel are completely different things, little brother,” Dean mumbled around the cookie crumbs. Picking up his jacket, he jogged into the garage. Before Sam could stop him, Dean climbed into the Impala, started her up with a roar and skidded out onto the dirt track in front of their home. 
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13 hours later 
Dean had followed the GPS tracker and had made it to McClusky. The last few miles had been through a residential area of the town, but he was finally at his destination. He parked Baby up across from where the pin showed Y/N was. Glancing out of his window, he saw he was outside a large, neat house with a tidy garden, and a Cherokee Jeep sitting on the driveway. He had sat there for two hours, debating whether to actually go and knock on the door to ask the occupants if they knew her. 
What if Sam had been right? What if she didn’t want to be found? 
He didn’t want to drag her into this life again if that wasn’t what she wanted. He had done that with Sammy. He wasn’t going to do it again. 
Looking at his watch it showed 3.50pm. He decided that at 4pm he would swallow his pride and walk up the driveway. But before he could do this, the front door opened. 
A man of average height, with black hair stepped out and stood on the porch, calling back over his shoulder to someone who was still in the house. Dean’s breath caught in his throat when this person appeared. 
It was Y/N. 
The man smiled at her as she closed and locked the door. She returned the gesture when he placed his palm on her swollen stomach, kissing her briefly on the lips before taking her hand and walking to the Jeep. He helped her into the passenger seat, before climbing in behind the steering wheel. As they reversed off the drive and drove down the road, passing the distinctive Chevy, he spotted Y/N turning her head. Dean’s heart skipped a beat when his green eyes locked with hers, before she looked away. The car continued on into the distance and she did not give a backwards glance. 
She had moved on. She was clearly living the apple pie life, with the white picket fence and a baby on the way. How could he have been so naive? How could he have thought that she wanted him to find her? He wasn’t good enough to be loved. Not important enough to be someone else’s world. He punched the dashboard, the action sending pain shooting across his knuckles. Tears filled his eyes as he turned the key, revving the engine as he wheel spun away from the curb. The lyrics to the damn song came into his mind, taunting him as he stamped on the accelerator. 
‘I wish, I could just make you turn around
Turn around and see me cry
There's so much I need to say to you so many reasons why
You're the only one who really knew me at all
So take a look at me now, well there's just an empty space
And there's nothin' left here to remind me, just the memory of your face
Now take a look at me now, 'cos there's just an empty space
But to wait for you, is all I can do and that's what I've got to face
Take a good look at me now, 'cos I'll still be standin' here
And you coming back to me is against all odds
It's the chance I've gotta take’
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Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed please like, comment and reblog as FEEDBACK IS GOLD and is the fuel that keeps me writing. My tag list is open, so if you wish to be added, send me an ask HERE
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vampireoutofbusiness · 6 minutes ago
Peter B[oobs] Parker
Pairing: peter x fem!reader
Warnings: all about boobs but not real smut, based on the 100% factual idea that Peter has a mommy kink
Request: Peter falling asleep sucking readers boobs- basically more mommy kink
Synopsis: Peter loves your boobs and has an undeniable mommy kink...
a/n: I ask the person who requested this to share more brilliant ideas with me because this is one of my favorite things I've ever written, thanks to their big juicy brain. soft baby boy peter is just AHHHHHH it's 4am I guess I can never break this habit...
Want to request something? Click Here
*Do not repost my work anywhere, reblogs are appreciated*
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Peter loves your boobs, why wouldn’t he? No matter what you were doing, he found an opportunity to stare or subtly touch them. He’s mesmerized by them and loves them.
Whether you have hard nipples or not, the shape they have is just perfect in his eyes. And the simple act of his hands sliding under your shirt and cupping them if you weren’t wearing a bra (although that didn’t really stop him) was wonderful. Your warm skin against his fingers as he kneaded them. Thumbs running over your nipples.
Now, the less pure, yet still wholesome part of Peter Parker loved having them in his mouth. You would wake up in the morning to him laying on you, his chin resting on your chest, waiting for you to give him the okay to touch them. Probably the mommy kink side of him that wanted to suck on them. Or just him. You weren’t complaining.
“Are you coming to bed soon?” Peter whined, taking your hand from your pal and pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles.
“Yeah, let me finish up this brief,” you glanced at him then turned back to your computer.
“Mr. Stark really is thorough when it comes to missions,” he sighed and released your hand so you could continue typing.
The sooner you finish, the sooner you would hold him while you fall asleep together. The city lights shining in through your apartment’s bedroom window. Noisy, yet somehow comforting street noise a few stories down. Your extremely comfortable bed that many things happened in.
Peter shuffled checked the front door, making sure it was locked. He pulled shut and locked the window that was left open near your desk in hopes you would want to hurry up if everything else was ready for bedtime.
Your sleepy boy kissed the top of your head and you told him you’d be there in a moment. He got in the bed you shared in the room down the hall, determined to stay awake in darkness until you got there.
About fifteen minutes later, you tip-toed in the room and slowly shut the door behind you in case he was asleep. You saw the covers stir and then his sleepy features illumined by lights from buildings across the street.
“Hi,” you whispered, sliding into bed next to him.
“Hi mommy,” he murmured, wrapping his body around yours before you could even adjust in your spot.
“Right out the gate,” you chuckled and Peter looked up at you with confusion on his face.
“Mommy?” You repeated and he was glad you couldn’t see the pink dusting his cheeks.
Yes, when you had sex, he called you mommy, and yes you loved it. He’s just so cute and something about taking care of him during sex was so sexy. He’s called you it many times but usually when you were pretty deep into doing the deed, not the second you crawled into bed.
“Did I- I didn’t mean- sorry,” he stuttered, removing his body from yours and turning away from you.
Even after living together for several months and dating for two, he got flustered by the littlest mentions of anything sexual. You honestly find it flattering he’s somewhat intimidated by you but you wish he would tell you more about what he wanted.
He felt the mattress move next to him and something hit the floor a few seconds later.
“Peter?” You slid your hand down his bare back and he slightly turned his head to look at you, “it’s okay to like calling me that, I hope you you’re aware,”
He flipped over completely to see you laying on your side, with your upper body exposed and his breath hitched at the sight. Every time felt like the first time.
“Sorry,” he cleared his throat as he scooted closer and hesitantly straddled your hips, resting his body on yours, “M- mommy,”
“What do you want?” You kissed him softly, already knowing the answer.
“To suck on your breasts- or boobs - please?” “Boobs, go ahead baby boy,” you confirmed, brushing some loose hair out of his face.
“Boobs…boobies,” he squeaked out before moving down your body so he was mouth level with them.
He kissed lazily down the valley and then the tops. Making his way down to your nipple when you gave him soft praises.
His lips wrapped around your bud and he gently sucked for a little while, your lips quirking up to a smile when you saw how content he looked. His long eyelashes resting on his upper cheeks where freckles were sprinkled.
You held his head, thumbs stroking the lobes of his ears leisurely as he moved onto your other boob. His tongue ran over your nipple for a few minutes before he started suckling at this one.
His mouth worked slower until you felt his movements stop. You caught a glimpse of your boy; head now resting on your chest with his lips not quite around your nipple but still holding on.
Small breaths hit your bare skin as he drifted off into sleep he’s been fighting for a good while. You ran your fingers through his curls and he let out a small, quiet moan from the feeling.
His heavy eyes fluttered open and you encouraged him to go back to sleep. He didn’t even bother taking his mouth off of your boob booby.
You carefully made your way to your room, a tray in your hands with very important contents; food.
After you took so long to get to bed last night, you figured making Peter breakfast in bed would make up for it. He wasn’t even upset about it, he never got mad at you and if he did, it wouldn’t be for something that minuscule.
Nonetheless, you made Peter your number one priority and you were his. Healthy relationship dynamic.
A plate with pancakes, scrambled eggs, and bacon. A glass of apple juice, not orange juice, he prefers sweeter drinks a.k.a he likes sugar. You pushed open the door with your elbow and felt your heart skip a beat at the view in front of you.
His fluffy bedhead resting on the white sheets. Sunlight bathing his toned, naked upper body. Arms wrapped around your pillow when his slightly conscious self realized you were no longer with him. Pink lips slightly parted as quiet snores left his mouth.
What a beautiful, tranquil view.
“Peter,” you purred as you got closer to the sleeping god in your bed.
His eyes flickered for a second, adapting to the lighting consuming the room. He gave you a sluggish smile and stiffly sat up, sitting against the headboard. You put the tray in his lap, making sure he was steady before taking your hands from it.
“What’s - why did you,” he was interrupted by his own thoughts as he examined everything on the plate.
He couldn’t ask for a better girlfriend. You did an extraordinary amount of things for him, breakfast in bed being one of them.
“I was busy last night so this is my form of payment,”
“You already let me do something I would do for free,” he smirked yet still had red cheeks out of timidness.
“But what you did earns everything and more, Peter Parker,” you kissed his forehead and he held your waist, pulling you closer.
You stopped yourself from disturbing the tray but he didn’t remove his hands.
“You don’t expect me to eat alone, do you?” He grinned and patter the spot you were in less than an hour ago this morning.
“It’s rude of me not to join you I suppose,” you cuddled up next to him, his warm skin heating yours.
“I love you so much,” he told you as he cut pancake before holding it up to your mouth with a fork.
You glanced down at the bite, then at your boyfriend.
“I love you- I’m not a baby,” you rolled your eyes when he waved it in front of you.
“Mommy’s need to eat, you know,” he said with a coy smile on his face.
“Let’s save that for after breakfast,” you ate from the fork, knowing he was just trying to return the care you give him.
“Fine…whoah, apple juice,”
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wittlenell · 8 minutes ago
Teases of a flwogb update means i have to reread the entire thing . . . . Right?
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vands38 · 9 minutes ago
Geralt accepts a contract from the history professor at Oxenfurt Academy and finds himself roped into a lecture. He doesn’t think anything of it until an intriguing student stumbles through the door and Geralt finds himself drawn back to Oxenfurt over and over again.
(AKA the fluffy canon-era trans Jaskier Oxenfurt Academy AU that no one asked for, featuring genderswapped Valdo Marx and soft! understanding! Geralt)
includes original music
chapter 60: so, uh, you guys knew there would be a tiny bit of angst before your happy ending, right? 👉👈
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mokuhchi-manuscripts · 16 minutes ago
"i'm falling in love with you" + tenma
girl help i'm having tenma brainrot /lh
A/N: I gotchu, hope this helps the brainrot <3 /lh
CW(s): none
❂ Tenma Sumeragi
I sat across from Tenma, script in hand, helping him practice for a new role. He was sitting directly across from me, script in hand, and his eyebrows were furrowed in a look of pure concentration. I gazed down at my own script, briefly reading over the words in front of me.
“Ready?” I nodded in response.
We went back and forth reciting our lines, and I tried to help him decide how he wanted to deliver each one.
“I think I’m falling in love with you.” I heard him say. I looked down at the script, scanning for where the line was.
“That’s not in the script.” I looked up as I spoke, and slowly trailed off. Tenma was looking at me with a look of pure adoration that I had never seen on another's face before. His features were soft, and his eyes were filled with, dare I say, love. “Tenma, I-”
“It’s fine if it’s not mutual.” I could tell this vulnerability was difficult for him, but he couldn’t have been further from the truth.
“I think I’m falling in love with you too.” He smiled in response.
“Of course you are! Who wouldn’t love the one and only Tenma Sumeragi-” I shoved him, cutting him off, but laughing the entire time.
“You’re such a dork.” I chuckled.
“No I’m not!” he sputtered.
“Are too.” I stuck my tongue out in defiance. He just smiled in return, and I couldn’t help but smile back.
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fanhackers · 18 minutes ago
New survey alert!
This is the summer of surveys! This one is from Emily Faulkner, an MSc student at Robert Gordon University. Emily is studying information-seeking behaviours of fanfiction communities and their applicability to libraries for their grad dissertation! The survey is open to adults who read and/or write fanfiction content (fan comics and podfics included) and details are below.
How long: About 30 mins depending on your fanfic sites 
Closes: August 2nd, 2021 noon EST
Go forth!
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lovelikedestiny · 27 minutes ago
Light in byzantine eyes
The aftermath: The team has lost its heart. Deeply hit by the great loss, the found family struggles to keep going. But before they can entirely go down under the emotional pain their heart, from which they feared to have lost it forever, starts beating again. Now it's time to come to terms with the past events, renew their bonds and keep in mind that family is always there.
A story about family strength, a love older than time itself and the process of healing even if it seems impossible.
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pizzaboat · 29 minutes ago
Uhh back at it again with these two
"Things are changing." Rayne said, "you can either push for the change you want or get swept up in other people's affairs. What about you? Don't you want change? A better life for Luz? Because If the day of unity happens there won't be anything left to protect."
Rayne trys to recruit Eda for their rebellion.
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leetjep · 33 minutes ago
Masterlist - addition
Well, I reached 100 hyperlinks in my previous masterlist. Therefor I made a new one...
Third fan fic
Titel: Reality (not finished yet, will update the masterlist)
1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 13 rewritten - 14 - 15 - 16 (⚠ mature things) - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 - 21 - 22 - 23 - 24 - 25
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lvlofpanic · 34 minutes ago
Red Mugs | R.L
Remus Lupin X Wife!Reader
Summary: Her last breath was devoted to saving her husbands best friend who also happened to be her brother, memories of the past begin to fill her brothers mind.
“ Sirius! “ It was the last word that fell off her lips before a flash of green hit her from Bellatrix, ultimately saving Sirius’ life.
This girl was no hero, no superwomen, no stranger. She was a wife, a sister, and a daughter. Y/n Lupin, formally known as Y/n Black, the middle child of the black family. Disowned by her mother in her fifth year and seeker refuge with her close friend Remus. Being a Black daughter and sorted into Gryffindor wasn’t easy. Being a Black daughter, in general, isn’t easy. The one thing she took pride in? She was close with both her brothers till the very end.
He was in danger, and all she saw was red. Remus, her husband who had grieved for Sirius after learning he had betrayed the Potters and was kept in Azkaban. After extended evaluation and a multitude of arguments, Y/n proved that Sirius was innocent to her husband. It wasn’t enough to prove him innocent to the Ministry. Despite being Remus’ wife, she knew that Sirius meant more to him than she could ever imagine.
It wasn’t just Remus Y/n was thinking of. It was Harry, Harry Potter. The godson of Sirius Black and Y/n Black. But all Harry saw was Professor Lupin, teacher of Defense Against the Dark Arts, and his wife. Never Uncle Remus or Aunt Y/n, the titles they always wanted to hear.
Sirius watched as his little sister took the spell and fell back into the vail. He watched his little sister die by their cousin's hand. Remus had to grab Sirius by the neck in order from running after Bellatrix, which Harry did anyways. Tears streamed down the eldest Black brother's cheeks. He’d lost his youngest sibling when he was just twenty. Now he lost his last sibling at the age of thirty-seven. He was too young to have witnessed this many deaths.
Remus wanted to sob, wanted to cry for his now dead wife, but he couldn’t. Not right now. Sirius needed him before he had time to grieve. So when it was time, they apparated back to Grimmauld Place, where Sirius fell onto the couch. The man sat with his elbows on his knees, his palms holding his head up facing the fireplace. The same fireplace they used to make hot cocoa and joke around while their parents were out.
“ Sirius! Regulus! Come on! “ The thirteen-year-old girl called, making both her brothers run down the steps.
“ Here. One for you. “ She handed a cup to Sirius, “ And one for you. “ Y/n stated, smiling, giving another cup to Regulus.
They all sat around the fireplace with hot cocoa in their hands, “ I’m scared. “ Regulus admitted.
“ Scared? Why? “ Sirius inquired after taking a sip of his hot beverage, “ Mum keeps hurting you guys. I don’t want you to leave. “ Regulus confessed.
Both older siblings hugged either side of him, “ If we ever leave, you’re coming with us. “ Sirius stated, “ We’ll never leave you, Reggie. “ Y/n added.
Eventually, their cups got cold as they joked around together, feeling like kids for the first time in years. But every good night comes to an end. Sirius and Y/n had their arms wrapped around Regulus. The trio had fallen asleep. When Walburga and Orion returned home, Orion immediately went upstairs, assuming all his kids had fallen asleep. Walburga had seen them huddled up in the living room together and smiled fondly. Deciding that she’d pretend she never saw it.
A hand on his back snapped him from his flashback, “ Don’t blame this on yourself. “ The man had just lost his wife, yet his voice was so steady, “ How can I not? She died saving my sorry arse. “ Sirius retorted.
“ She died saving her brother. The same brother that would’ve done the same for her. “ Remus replied, and Sirius sighed, “ She shouldn’t have. She had a life to live. “
“ And you don’t? “ Remus queried with an eyebrow raised, “ She could’ve had a life with you, Moony! “ Sirius exclaimed.
The man chuckled bitterly, “ Y/n talked about it all the time how you and her planned to have a child one day, how she waited for me to leave Azkaban so I could be in the child’s life. How she wanted to find a place with you in London instead of staying here. “
“ I don’t have a wife. I never had a lover to care about, to come home to. She did. “ Sirius stated as tears filled his vision, “ Her life had more things in it than mine ever will. “
Remus had to swallow back the tears after hearing about these plans his wife talked about, “ Y/n lived the best life she could’ve ever had. “
“ How could you know? “ Sirius snapped, and Remus chuckled, “ Because she told me. “
“ Every morning, she told me how living through the days was a blessing. She used to say to me that if she died tomorrow that she wouldn’t have changed a thing. That she lived her life to its fullest. “ Remus explained, “ Y/n didn’t die with regrets or guilt. She was content. “
Sirius twisted a ring on his finger, “ This ring. “ He began, “ When we were kids, she used to steal things. “
“ Like my jumpers? “ Remus interjected jokingly, “ Yeah. “ Sirius laughed.
“ But she- she always nicked something from the shelf at a store, and one day she nicked this costly ring. Probably worth about three galleons, and she gave it to me for my fifteenth birthday just before I had left for the Potters and gotten disowned. “ He informed, twisting the ring off his finger and holding it out to the male beside him, “ I think you should take it. “
“ What? “ Remus was gobsmacked, “ Take it. “ Sirius insisted.
The male shook his head, “ No. Trust me. I have plenty of other things of hers. “
“ Do you have the Black photo books? “ Sirius questioned, “ I believe they’re in her study somewhere. “ Remus answered.
“ Do you- Do you think we could take a trip there after the war? “ Sirius questioned, and Remus nodded, “ Of course. “
The raven-haired male stared at the fireplace a little longer. Maybe if he stared long enough, the old memory of falling asleep with his siblings would come true. Now it even felt like he could see the coffee mugs on the table. The same red coffee mugs she had again, stolen from a store.
Sirius stood up and walked into the kitchen. Inside the cabinet laid three red mugs. The very same red mugs from those nights. She had placed them into the cupboard after starting to live here with her brother and husband. Sirius took two of them down and began making hot chocolate. After moments of making the beverage from memory, he walked back into the main room, where Remus had slight tears falling down his cheeks.
Swallowing thickly, he repeated her words, “ Here one for you. “
Remus took the cup gratefully and began drinking; soon enough, he realized it was her exact recipe. Taking a look at Sirius, who looked strangely nostalgic while drinking hot chocolate from a red mug. The trails of tears on either of their faces weren’t mistaken.
“ Red mugs. “ Sirius began, “ The only red in the house other than my bedroom. “
“ She nicked them from a market and hid them in her bedroom. On nights where both of our parents were out, she made me and Reggie hot cocoa. We used to sit on the floor in front of the sofa, talking until we fell asleep. “ He concluded, “ Full moons. “ Remus began.
He chuckled, “ Every night after a full moon, I was greeted with a red mug full of hot cocoa. It seemed to be the only thing distracting me while she cleaned my wounds. “
“ It didn’t matter if it was boiling hot outside. She always made hot cocoa for me, and it was always in a red mug, but I never understood why until now. “ Remus finished.
Sirius grabbed Remus’s hand and held it tight, “ One day, she’ll greet us with hot cocoa in a red mug again. We just have to wait. “
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kats-baku1999 · 37 minutes ago
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saquesha13 · 43 minutes ago
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me waiting patiently for my favorite fic authors to update knowing they have a life outside of the fandom and post for themselves but also for our entertainment FOR FUCKING FREE.
anyway, all you fanfiction authors out there, god bless you all and your talented soul. you feed the fandoms so well with your creativity 👏🥺
to all the readers, remember to kudos/like the chapters & comment to help the authors out! it does more then you think, and be nice, don’t beg for more, don’t be a dick.
anyways, thank you for listening to my ted talk.
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lovelybarnes · 47 minutes ago
stood up- b. barnes
pairings: bucky barnes x reader, anderson x reader (?) warnings: angst, getting stood up, language, unrequited feelings about: prompts (DA29) “i got stood up.” + (DF30) “i think you’re my soulmate.” +(DF41) “are you going to cry? please don’t cry. a/n: i love to hurt but dw it’s a happy ending, i actually like this fjsk, a the time i finished this, i just posted another imagine, so i can’t wait for you guys to read this one in a couple days
every passing second makes you hyperaware of all the sympathetic stares that are currently directed at you. the feeling of pity is enveloping you whole, wrapping you in a thin layer of shame that you think must be related to the careful makeup you caked on your face for this date. your recently manicured nails scratch at the tablecloth, trying to avoid your new expensive dress, deep midnight color clinging to your nervous self. teeth stress your dark wine bottom lip, anxious eyes darting across the restaurant.
with each face that enters the place, none of them being his, the presumption that he isn’t coming solidifies. with it, comes the embarrassment. you can feel the warnings of tears, already threatening to ruin the mascara you had applied so carefully, not bothering to choose the waterproof one because why would you be crying on your date?
you suppose it’s your own fault- how dare you attempt to get over bucky? how dare you trust the words of a shield agent? you pick at your nails, gathering up the courage to stand up and leave. your waitress, however, beats you to it, a faux apologetic look on her face. “oh, so you’ve been here for, like, half an hour and it seems no one is coming, and we kind of need the table, so…”
you hold back an uncomfortable cringe, nodding stiffly as you stand. “right. i’m sorry. i don’t need to… pay for the water, right?” you ask dumbly, ducking your head when she shakes her head condescendingly.
pushing the door open, you step into the brisk air of the night, clouded over with an uneasy disappointment that you’re sure is because of you. you stand for a second to look at the stars, realizing how pretty of a night this would be if you weren’t so damn frustrated. the upset hasn’t passed yet, although the beginnings of anger are peeking up in your stomach.
while you stare up at the moon, the universe decides your getting stood up wasn’t enough, choosing to gift you with cold droplets of water that make your mascara run. it’s unbelievable, you nearly scoff tearily.
you walk to your car then, the moonlight that should have been romantic when you walked out of the restaurant now only making you feel lonely. you don’t let the tears come yet, having enough pride to not let the smitten couples appreciating the romance of the rain see you cry, deciding to put that off until you’re in the quietness of your room.
you drive in the sound of the pattering rain, concentrated on keeping your breathing even so as to push back the tears, not wanting to have an accident on the way back home because your vision was clouded over with sadness.
the relief you feel when you arrive at the compound is immeasurable; the knowledge that all you have to do is walk quietly to your room, and you can release the pent up emotions that eat you whole is unbelievably satisfying. the horrible itching feeling that comes with the tears arrives again when you notice your reflection in the impressively clean windows of the stark compound. through the stains of your ruined makeup, you can see the remnants of how dolled up you were, how much time was spent with the intricate details that made you smile when you looked at yourself in the mirror.
you swallow back the painful lump in your throat, opening the doors and sniffling at the dimly-lit room. your heels click tiredly on the floor, precious bracelet lightly jangling when you move. you can’t find it in yourself to care when you realize you’re dragging water inside, resigning to letting stark lecture you in the morning.
as you stand in the elevator, waiting for it to reach your floor, the emotions you’ve pushed so far down decide to spring back up in the form of an overwhelming dejected exhaustion that makes you physically slump. you lean against the cool of the metal railing, shutting your eyes hard to avoid looking at yourself. you only pry your eyes open when you hear the soft ding of the elevator, surprised and once again embarrassed to see bucky standing between the open doors.
“y/n?” he asks quietly. his demeanor immediately changes when he takes you in, body softer in the way it always is when you’re with him. his reaction makes you fall deeper, which reminds you exactly why you were going on your failed date. you straighten, clearing your throat, “um- i have to get to my room.”
your voice is thin, heightening his worries and stopping you with a gentle hand to your arm before you step off the elevator, “what’s wrong? what happened? are you okay?” he asks, and you nod blindly at all of his questions, realizing that the longer you stay with him- with his warm hand that you can’t help but lean into pressed against your cold arm- the more you really want to cry and scream because it’s not fair that he’s been given to you, yet you can’t have him, even if he has you.
“i’m fine,” you lie obviously, forcing your eyes again from his. “y/n, what happened? you’re clearly not fine,” bucky pushes, the hand on your arm beginning to rub stressed circles into your skin. you give up then, looking back at him. “i got stood up,” you say finally, words cracked. you shake your head, “and i just spent so much time on everything and-”
“that’s stupid. who would stand you up?” bucky interrupts, eyes genuinely confused while you scoff. “apparently anderson from security,” you respond bitterly, looking away. “he’s stupid, y/n. he has to be to not go to a date with you.”
you exhale frustratedly, “maybe not. maybe there’s something wrong with me and i’m the stupid one for even thinking someone would want to go out with me,” you countered. “hey, no, you are- you are amazing, y/n. amazing and stunning and intelligent and he missed his chance to be the luckiest guy in the world,” he insisted, gently pulling your attention back to him with a gentle hand on your cheek. you give him a watery laugh through the loud, unfair questions in your head: why don’t you love me like i love you, then?
you don’t realize the tears that run down the streaks of already ruined mascara until bucky points them out, wiping them away with his fingers, “no, no, don’t cry, please don’t cry,” he begs. you can’t help it, though, biting your lip to hold back your unrequited confessions of love.
“nobody wants me. i don’t even think i want me anymore,” you weep, oblivious to the breaking of bucky’s heart when he hears your words, pulling you flush against his chest. “don’t say that, doll. that’s not true-”
“it is. what other reasons can you think of that explain why i’m the only one that’s shown up to the rare dates i’ve been on? why have i had to go on those stupid dates just to forget how pathetic i am that i can’t get over you?”
you’re too deep in the ocean of your thoughts to realize what you’ve said, too little light available in the dark to let you realize the hints you have and will undoubtedly let out if you continue blubbering into bucky’s shoulder like the mess you are. your feelings are scattered, words so disorganized that any way you piece them together will be a mistake. “why else does the one person who i actually want to love me back not want me?”
bucky can make sense of the words you’re saying, the heavy weight they carry when he realizes exactly what they mean, and what you imply. he’s frozen, heart simultaneously fluttering at the mere thought of his feelings being returned and breaking at the cries you’re letting out because of him.
he’s refused to ever be the source of your pain, restricting his own poems of confessions because he didn’t want to hurt you, never wanting to be the reason you cried. he supposes now it was the wrong choice, one he needs to fix.
the bead of insecurity buried stubbornly in his mind shrieks, however, because he’s as clueless as you are and can’t possibly imagine someone like you- so kind and pure and good- loving him back. so he needs to make sure, needs to hear you say it in your voice.
“what?” you let out a watery scoff, full of embarrassment rather than annoyance at him, “don’t make me say it, bucky, please-”
“please say it- i- i need you to say it.”
a beat of silence passes before you sniffle, pulling away from the man you’ve called your best friend and wanted nothing but to be able to call him more. “i love you, bucky. in a way that makes me pretty sure you’re my soulmate because i don’t even believe in that but you make me feel like i should.”
bucky’s storm clouds lighten, doubts dissolving when he listens to what you said, tasting your words and examining each one just to remember it. he pulls your lips to his when they’ve barely processed. “you should,” he says when he pulls away for a second, only to make you lose your breath again when he aches for you immediately, kissing you again, “believe in soulmates.”
“why is that?” you ask breathlessly, letting him pull you back in because you both have been waiting- dreaming about this for so damn long, and he isn’t sure he’ll ever be able to keep away from you now that he has you. he presses a sloppy kiss to your lips, so perfectly imperfect when your teeth clash and you both laugh gently, noses nudging each other when he leans his forehead on yours, “because we’re meant to be, y/n. in that way that soulmates are.”
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eskiix · 53 minutes ago
A (belated) WIP Wednesday
Thank you @fuseboxmusebox and @aislinnstanaka for tagging me! Here’s a few paragraphs from the next chapter of Infinite (likely will tweak the life out of this but still) --- Bobby took her mind off it by booking their plane tickets to Glasgow. He described all the places he wanted to take her: from his old local pub where he used to play gigs, to tourist traps like the Science Centre and the Merchant City district. Then he told her more about his maw who had emigrated to Scotland in the early nineties and her never ending quest to re-emulate the garden she had in Jamaica within her heated greenhouse. As well as his dad, a jazz pianist and a born and bred Glaswegian. Far less pensive and stressed, she teased, “Did he despair when you started wearing leather trousers and thrashing it out on the guitar?” “The opposite, he was our number one fan. He let us rehearse in the garage and came to most of our gigs. It was a bit embarrassin’ actually, we wanted lassies throwin’ their knickers at us not Duncan McKenzie raisin’ his pint and yellin’ ‘Guan, let ‘em have it, son’ from the bar.” She laughed, light and airy, “At least he wasn’t heckling you. He sounds amazing. I’m kind of nervous, you know, about meeting them both.” “Naw, dinnae be, they love you already.” He assured her, adding ‘because I love you’ in his head. “I’ve never brought a girl home before, they’ll just be relieved that yer not imaginary.” “Why not? You’ve had girlfriends before.” “Aye, not serious ones though and that’s what ye do when yer serious about someone, right? Introduce them to yer family and stuff.” He said in an easy breezy way, trying to cover the not so subtle hint he was dropping in the hopes of gaging something from her response.
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burningjournal00 · 54 minutes ago
I know for a fact that when I am going to look at you after what will feel like years, you will hug me and it will be like only yesterday we were having the time of our lives. Time flies, only we fly with it, only we know how to land this flight, only we know how to survive.
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thegenderlesswitch · 55 minutes ago
I finally posted the first chapter of the Future!Fic I am writing. I haven’t written a fanfic in over 11 years so this is going to be my new baby! ❤️
Summary: After graduating from Night Raven Academy, Yuu Hayakawa had married Malleus and became the Monarch of the Valley of Thorns. After two years of their reign, their life was a dream come true.
But when a tradition is forced upon them, a series of events start to unfold which may change the Valley of Thorns forever.
And what does Silver have to do with all of this?
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embe11 · 56 minutes ago
35 Dialogue Prompts
I've hit another one of my famous writer's blocks (newsflash: I've spent more of the last 10 years in one than actually out of one).
Figure I don't still want to be in one in 2031 so I thought I'd give a prompt challenge a go.
Pick 1-2 prompts from the list below (sliigghtly adapted from here) and I'll write something. You can also pick whatever prequel characters you like, or I can pick for you!
“I thought you were supposed to call me.”
“I never, ever want to hear you say that again.”
“Don’t just stand there looking at me.”
“Do you like my planet?”
“My back’s killing me.”
“How much longer till we’re there?”
“You have to tell her. It wouldn’t be right not to.”
“It doesn’t do any good to get worked up.”
“How much does he want?”
“I know it’s a little expensive.”
“I caught your cold.”
“Finish what you’re doing. We have to talk.”
“Could you not walk ten steps in front of me for a change?”
“It’s not that I don’t appreciate the thought.”
“Give me the remote.”
“Could you please not use that tone of voice?”
“Hey, there. Are you in the witness protection program, or what?”
“Set me up.”
“When was the last time we had a real conversation.”
“You’re big and strong.”
“I’m so sick of all this gloom and doom. Why can’t people just be happy?”
“Look. There’s a place to park.”
“Do you know what today is?”
“I have been thinking we should move to Hoth.”
“Ten bucks for this piece of crap!”
“You first.”
“I’m not cold in the least.”
“What’s your problem?”
“You’d be late for your own funeral.”
“You’re not my mother.”
“You know you’re wrong.”
“Why do you have that look on your face?”
“You should have seen it coming.”
“You’re going in there right now and apologize.
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