#he's acting his heart out in a movie that's just above a joke and elevates it to a work of art

[vintageshanny]

Play Something For Me - Part 2 - Reunited and It Feels So Good

Content: Elvis in Vegas late summer of 1973, smut, 18+

Writing Prompt: “Are you always this shy?”

Thank you to everyone who gave me feedback on part one (link at the bottom) and for requesting a second part!

And thank you to these lovely ladies for loving on Elvis with me and always lifting my spirits: @be-my-ally @ellie-24 @whositmcwhatsit @thatbanditqueen @missmaywemeetagain @from-memphis-with-love @powerofelvis

Ruby smoothed out her sparkly blue dress as she stepped off the elevator at the Las Vegas Hilton Hotel and walked toward the showroom where the concert was supposed to take place.  There were Elvis posters everywhere she looked.  For fifteen years, she had listened to his music and watched his movies while somehow compartmentalizing her own personal experience with him.  Now that she was maybe going to see him face to face, she couldn’t stop her heart from racing.  She felt like that inexperienced 18-year-old girl all over again.  Not that her experiences had been vast since then.  Just a horrible failed marriage and a pathetic attempt at dating every once in a while.  

She wasn’t even sure why she was here or what she would say to him if she got a chance, or the nerve, to speak.  All she knew was that, since Ella had shared that interview with her five months ago, she could not get it out of her mind that he remembered her.  That she had left some imprint on him in that church so many years ago.  Maybe it was just the “what if” that was driving her forward now, forcing her to seize this opportunity.  Ella was spending the last few weeks of summer vacation with her father, so Ruby had decided to splurge on a little trip for herself, including a floor seat for Elvis’ concert.  She hadn’t even told anyone she was coming here, she felt so ridiculous about trying to relive this one moment of passion.

Ruby entered the showroom and found her seat, looking around nervously, waiting for the show to start.  She applauded politely for the opening act, but she could barely focus on anything.  Anxiety was just flooding her brain.  She started thinking that perhaps she should just go, that this was all a mistake, when the lights dimmed and Elvis’ opening music started.  He came striding onto the stage in a bejeweled white jumpsuit.  Ruby’s jaw dropped a little when she saw him.  He had changed a bit of course, filled out a little, but it looked good on him. He was still so handsome, and the same energy still radiated off of him.  She found herself singing along and cheering like a crazed fan as he ran through hit after hit, laughing and joking with the audience.  

When he started singing Love Me Tender, her pulse quickened.  She knew this was her chance.  Propelled by pure adrenaline, she forced herself out of her seat and toward the stage where a line of women were already waiting for a kiss.  Elvis moved down the line, handing out scarves and kisses, until he was right above her.  As he leaned down, she saw him do a double take.  The way he was crouched above her, her face so close to that beautiful bulge between his legs, her eyes staring up at his sweaty face, she was having a sense of deja vu.  She could feel her face flushing red as he leaned in close and pressed his soft lips to hers.  Instead of pulling back right away, he leaned and whispered in her ear, “My red Ruby, I-I-I  knew I’d find you again someday.”  She smiled as she recognized his sweet little stutter, and he winked as he continued on down the line.

After she returned to her seat, Ruby tried to stop her heart from racing.  She could see Elvis looking in her direction every so often as he finished the concert, but she was unsure if he could even see her through the bright stage lights.  She felt a sense of satisfaction that he had recognized her, but she also found herself wondering, Is that it?  Did I just come for a kiss and confirmation that he remembers me?  As she went back to her hotel room after the show, she felt a weird sense of incompleteness.  Maybe this was all a mistake.  You should have left the past in the past.  You can never really go back.  She cried herself to sleep, confused about what she had been expecting from this trip.

The ringing phone next to her bed woke her with a jolt.  She glanced over at the bedside clock.  2:30 in the morning.  Who on Earth?  No one even knows I’m here, she thought to herself in her groggy state as she reached for the receiver.  “Hello?” she answered sleepily.  A deep baritone came rumbling through the other end.  “My little red Ruby.  How’ve you been, honey?”  he asked as if no time had passed at all.  “Elvis?” she whispered in shock.  “That’s my name, don’t wear it out,” he said with a laugh. “I see your sense of humor hasn’t changed any,” she teased, somehow finding herself put at ease by the sound of his voice.  “Well, you haven’t changed a bit honey, lookin’ up at me with those big beautiful eyes and that sweet blushin’ face,” he said.  Ruby could feel her face burning up, realizing Elvis must have felt that same sense of deja vu up on the stage.  “I bet you’re blushin’ right now, jus’ hearin’ me say that,” he joked.  “I guess you’ll never know, will you?” she said, trying not to give herself away.  “I’ll have Charlie tell me,” he said.  “Charlie?” Ruby asked just as she heard a knock at the door.  “Yeah, I sent him down to get ya, honey.  I want ya to come up here so we can…catch up on old times.”  Ruby gulped nervously.  “Oh, um, well…”  “C’mon, honey, don’t ya wanna talk to me?  Ya once said you’d never stop loving me.”  “I said your music,” Ruby clarified, “and I already got to hear that.”  Elvis chuckled a little bit at that.  “Okay,” she sighed, feeling her heart race.  “I’ll come up and talk to you.”  

Ruby quickly put her dress back on and combed her hair, not really sure what Elvis was expecting when he said “catch up on old times.”  She opened the door to find a short man waiting patiently outside.  “Ruby?”  he asked.  “Yes, that’s me,” she whispered nervously.  “Come along with me.  Elvis is expecting you.”  Ruby quietly followed behind him, wondering how often Elvis had his friends deliver women to him from their hotel rooms.  Charlie knocked on the door of Elvis’ suite and then stepped back, indicating to Ruby that she should open the door.  She cautiously stepped in and looked around.  Elvis came walking out of the bedroom dressed in silky navy blue monogrammed pajamas.  “Aww, Ruby, ya didn’t have ta get all dressed up for me,” he walked toward her with a big smile as she closed the door behind her.  “Oh, I didn’t know what to expect up here,” she whispered nervously as he kept coming closer.  “It’s jus’ us here, baby.  I kicked everyone else out so we could, y’know, catch up.”  Elvis wrapped his arms around her and kissed her cheek gently.  

Ruby pulled back a little and nervously mumbled, “Okay, we can catch up.”  She walked over to a chair to sit down, but Elvis pulled her by the hand toward the bedroom.  “W-W-We’ll be more comfortable in here sweet Ruby,” he said.  “Unless ya want me to find a church,” he teased.  Ruby’s face started flaming as he sat down on the bed and patted the spot next to him.  “Ah there’s my red Ruby,” he said with a big crooked grin, and in that moment, Ruby saw clearly the sweet, cocky, self-conscious young man from fifteen years ago.  She kicked her heels off and crawled up next to him, leaning back against the headboard and smoothing her dress out over her legs.  “What did you want to talk about?” she asked.  “Are ya married, honey?” Elvis asked bluntly.  Ruby stiffened a little bit, surprised by the question.  “Um, I’m divorced,” she said, a little embarrassed.  “That’s okay, honey, me too,” Elvis said, as if this wasn’t common knowledge.  “I just feel like I failed at this thing that was supposed to last forever,” Ruby admitted.  She surprised herself with the way she could just open up to him so easily.  As they talked about the difficulties of divorce, it was like no time had passed.  “Sometimes life just doesn’t go how we planned, that don’t make you a failure,” he said, grabbing her chin and looking into her eyes.  “B’sides, he probably didn’t deserve a sweet thing like you.  Selfishly, honey, I’m kinda glad you ain’t married.  I want a clear conscience.”  “A clear conscience?” Ruby questioned, confused.  Elvis shifted a little and looked down at his hands as he spoke.

“Ruby, honey, when we met all those years ago, I was really goin’ through somethin’ difficult.  I-I-I had just lost my mama, I was in a brand new place, and I w-w-was scared.  You don’t know how much it meant that you came along and talked to me like a normal person and made me feel good about myself and, and just made me feel good in general,” he said, blushing at that last part.  “If I’d been thinkin’ more clearly, I woulda asked ya for a way to stay in touch then, but I didn’t even have your last name.  I couldn’t find ya honey, so I’ve been w-w-waitin’ fifteen years to pay you back.”  Elvis ran his hand gently over Ruby’s thigh as she breathed in sharply at his touch.  “So what do ya say, baby?  Can I make ya feel good?” he whispered, lowering his head, looking up at her through his long eyelashes.  Ruby was startled as she realized something that she was too young and naive to notice in Germany.  Elvis was nervous.  She again felt that familiar urge to do anything to please him.  Instead of answering him, she leaned in and pressed her lips against his, pushing her tongue into his mouth the way he had kissed her that first time.  “Is that a yes?” Elvis laughed as she pulled back to catch her breath.  Ruby laughed too and nodded.

Elvis rolled over on top of her and slowly started sliding down to where her dress was riding up her legs.  He lifted the hem and put his head underneath, kissing her thighs.  “Oh, what are you doing?” she yelped, pushing his head gently away.  Elvis looked up confused.  “What do ya mean?  I’m g-g-gonna make ya feel good.”  “Oh, not like that, I mean, you don’t have to…” Ruby’s voice trailed off as she looked away, embarrassed.  “Are ya always this shy, honey?  You were pretty forward with me, as I recall,” Elvis smirked.  “I just, um, I mean, no one’s ever, you don’t have to do that,” Ruby mumbled, wishing she could just disappear.  “Oh, sweet red Ruby, ya mean to say no one’s ever licked your little kitty?” Elvis asked in surprise.  Ruby shook her head, unable to look him in the eye.  “Hey, honey, look at me.  It’s okay.  Just lean back, and I’m gonna show ya the time of your life, baby.  Lemme take care of ya.”  As Elvis returned his lips to Ruby’s thighs, she could hear him mumble, “That man definitely did not deserve you, honey.”  

Ruby tried to keep her breathing even as Elvis slowly slid her panties down her legs and tucked them into the pocket of his pajamas.  “Goddamn, honey, you are so beautiful,” he said as he spread her pussy open with his fingers and looked at it glistening, just waiting for his tongue to work its magic.  Ruby let out an embarrassingly loud moan as Elvis leaned in and licked her most private area.  “I’m sorry,” she whispered nervously.  “Mmm, don’t be sorry, baby, you’re just lettin’ me know I’m takin’ care of ya.  You can scream out as loud as you need to.”  Elvis went back to flicking her clit with his tongue before sticking it all the way inside her while he used his fingers to aid in the pleasure.  In the eight years with her husband, Ruby had never had close to the amount of pleasure Elvis gave her with his tongue.  She couldn’t have stopped from screaming his name even if she’d wanted to.  When he finally pulled his face out from between her legs, Ruby was a bit embarrassed to see her slick all over his mouth and chin, but Elvis did not seem bothered at all.  He pulled her panties out of his pocket and wiped his face.  “Damn, honey, that was a feast,” he teased her as he laid his head on her stomach.  Ruby blushed and ran her fingers through his thick dark hair.  “That feels good, mama,” Elvis said as she gently scratched his scalp.  

“Elvis, I’ve never felt so good before,” Ruby admitted shyly.  “I know baby, it’s cuz we have some kinda special bond.  To find each other again after all these years.  Y’know, I believe there are no coincidences, everything happens for a reason,” Elvis continued, nuzzling his face into her chest.  “And what is the reason for us?” Ruby whispered, wondering if what he was saying was true or if it was just the high of reuniting after all this time.  “I don’ know yet, baby, but I think we should find out.  Come to my show again tomorrow.  Spend some time with me.  Or are you moving to a different country in a few days?”  Ruby smiled a little bit at that.  “No, but I do have to go back home at the end of the week,” she said.  “Okay, so come to the rest of my shows and spend the week with me,” he said, more of a demand than a request.  “I only had a ticket for this one,” Ruby explained.  “That’s okay, baby, I can get ya in.  I know the star,” Elvis laughed.  Ruby giggled at that and leaned down to kiss his head.  “Okay, I guess we owe it to ourselves to see what’s in store.”  

#elvis #sexy #writing prompt game #Elvis smut #elvis x oc #i love this man

[gokiburikko]

the trailer is out for venom 2 and i would just like to let everyone know that whenever i think of cherry interacting with the demon ngitarogshi as though the two of them are co-inhabiting cherry’s body, all i end up daydreaming about in the end is eddie and venom and i think the four of them meeting would be kind of nice or something

maybe i should change cherry’s sony marvel verse to something with a symbiote LOL

#« THE GREAT GARBAGIO » che ⇢ ooc. #venom is a masterpiece of cinema and each day i wake up thankful the world was blessed with tom hardy's earnest acting #he just goes for it?? no matter how ridiculous the scene is? and i love and respect that #he's acting his heart out in a movie that's just above a joke and elevates it to a work of art #the world needs more like you mr hardy #in other news i miss marvel rpc so much i'm going through hella withdrawals #it's making my brain so itchy

[butwhyduh]

Security Breach

Dick Grayson x reader

Summary: he’s supposed to protect the reader in Titans tower after she was attacked and there is a big failure. Injuries mentioned briefly.

It was 3 days earlier that your life had been in danger. Dick felt awful, barely left your side. Deathstroke, Slade fucking Wilson had attacked you in your apartment when Dick was on patrol. He had tailed Dick and found out about you. Dick had found you before Deathstroke had done much damage. Your hip had been dislocated and a gash over that thigh that required a few stitches.

Dick brought you to Titans tower and didn’t leave the building for 3 days and rarely let you go out of eyesight. He held you tightly at night and watched you sleep while getting very little of his own. He could have lost you. You could have been killed for being with him.

It was helpful because you had a bandage on your thigh and your hip hurt every time you walked. It was also smothering. So when the other Titans were going on patrol, you insisted that he go and act normal. They were going to question what happened to Nightwing soon if he didn’t.

“Fine. Here is a panic button. Push this and it will lock down all the doors and windows and send me a signal. Don’t hesitate to use it. Okay?” Dick said. He had an intensity and worry in his eyes that you couldn’t quite quiet before he left. He pulled you close for a kiss that wasn’t exactly proper in front of the team.

You pulled back flushed. “Dick,” you breathed before clearing your throat. “I’ll be fine. Just go. You need to get out. You’ll go nuts,” you joked as you pulled away from him. Raven and Beast Boy smiled a little before Dick joined them.

“I’ll be back soon,” Dick said before the elevator closed.

You laid on the huge couch sinking into the pillows before turning on literally any show you could imagine. Bruce Wayne didn’t skimp on tv services. The couch was so comfortable and you finally found a position that your hip didn’t hurt and you fell asleep. The panic button was lost in the cushions.

You woke up to a sound in the kitchen. It had to be a few hours later. You assumed the Titans were back and hobbled into the kitchen, carting an empty glass with you. You turned the corner and gasped while dropping the glass. It shattered loudly on the tile floor.

Deathstroke in black and orange armor stood in the kitchen. He turned and looked at you with a tilted head.

“I assumed I was alone. I guess I got lucky,” he said and you looked back towards the doorway but you were barely walking. There was no way that you were running. He was huge and strong and probably fast.

“L-lucky?” You said, stepping back as he walked nearer. You felt the cold counter hit your lower back. You’d unknowingly walked yourself into a trap.

“Yeah. I can finish what I started,” he said quietly. The softness of his voice was chilling. He wasn’t mad and knew he was in control. Even in perfect health you had a severe disadvantage. And you were injured.

“You don’t have to,” you barely say above a whisper.

“See, Nightwing took something from me and I’ll take something from him,” Deathstroke said. He was now in your space. You shifted legs and winced in pain despite yourself. “Has to hurt, hu? Right about here,” he said before pressing on your cut. You gasped in pain and tried to scoot away fruitlessly. He caged you against the counter.

Your heart pounded. “Please, don’t,” you pleaded.

“Did Nightwing stop,” he asked coldly and you didn’t have an answer. As far as you knew, his son got between him and Dick and got killed in the crossfire. You tried to move again and grimaced in pain.

“That’s more than a cut. I thought I heard a pop,” Deathstroke said before pressing on your injured hip. Your vision flashed white and you shrieked before grabbing the counter. He chuckled. “I thought so.”

“Please,” you breathed, leaning as far away as he let you. “Don’t hurt me.” You leaped for the knife block behind you but he quickly pressed your hip to the counter and you whimpered and almost fell to the floor, far from reaching the knife.

“It’s not about you, sweetheart. I have an issue with your boyfriend. His parents are dead, has no siblings, and no kids. You’re it, darling. The only person that can be hurt to hurt him.... That’s enough. I didn’t come here to play with you,” he said lazily unclipping the strap on a gun. “I came here to kill y-“

A shiny piece of metal was thrown between you both and he barely leaped out of the way as his gun went flying. You screamed and cowled down. A blur of black and blue jumped in front of you and finally you realized that a Deathstroke and Dick were fighting. You hobbled towards the doorway only for Wilson to shoot the doorframe above your head. You collapsed to the ground in horror.

“Attacking my house?” Dick said and you could hear and see rage unlike what you’ve seen before. “My girlfriend,” he said with vicious hits landing on Deathstroke who gave as good as he got. The other gun was lost as well. Escrima sticks were pulled out and a sword was pulled.

They fought hand to hand for a while, neither relenting control. Dick finally tossed the sword from Wilson’s hand and pointed his shocking escrima at the other man. Both were bleeding and exhausted and there was sounds downstairs where the other Titans must have gotten back. Knowing he had lost the round, Deathstroke jumped through the glass window and into the night. Dick watched him go before turning to see you cowling on the floor.

He bent down and cradled your face. “Baby, are you okay?” Dick looked over your body for any injuries.

“Uh yeah. Yeah I’m fine,” you said but Dick could see you trembling. He carefully scooped you up pulled you to his chest and you broke down into a sob. You grasped his suit tightly and cried in relief and fear.

The other Titans came up within 20 minutes. Dick had rushed home after the mission, leaving them behind. They took in the scene quickly. Broken glass everywhere and you sitting in Dick’s lap while crying.

“We’ll need to update security and install patrols until we get this fixed. Come on,” Kori said and you couldn’t be more grateful as the others left the room. If you thought Dick was smothering before, he didn’t leave your side beside patrol. This time you didn’t mind.

Dick gently woke you from a nightmare. You clung to him in a sticky sweat of cold fear. Your eyes were wild until you realized that it was Dick and not Deathstroke there to finish the job.

“I’m right here. It’s okay,” he said, too knowledgeable about the nightmares from trauma. He gently spoke to you and rubbed your back until you fell asleep. He was always against Bruce fighting his battles for him but he made the exception today. If Tim had done it before, Dick could too.

A few hours later you were sitting in his lap, watching a movie, when Dick got the message from Bruce.

Bruce: All clear. $50,000 but clear.

Dick: thanks. I owe you.

All Dick had to do was make sure that you knew you were safe but not know that it cost him $50,000. It couldn’t be that hard, right?

#officer dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #batboy x reader

[the-bau-quinjet]

Memories, Pt. III

Summary: You were captured by Hydra. What did they do to your memories?

Warnings: mentions of violence, panic attacks, torture

Word Count: 1968

a/n: Part 3!! Honestly, I feel like this series could've been a one shot, but I wasn't feeling inspired to write the whole thing at once and I knew I would finish it if I posted part of it because I would stress about people wanting the next part 🙃

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

3 Years Ago

Bucky could only be described as a ball of nerves when you walked into the room. It felt like his brain shut off.

He had spent the last thirty minutes practicing what he was going to say to you when you arrived for your weekly movie night. Basically, it boiled down to six simple words: I'm falling in love with you.

Despite Steve, and a slightly out of character Sam, ensuring him that you felt the same, he was still skeptical. Why would you choose him when you could get any guy, or girl for that matter?

As he nervously stared at you, he could see your lips moving, but no sound could be registered above his own internal panic.

He didn't fully comprehend you had even said anything until he registered the panic on your face. Suddenly, his own thoughts disappeared.

"Oh no. No, no, no. I'm so sorry. You obviously don't feel the same. I'm just gonna go! I'll, uh, I'll see you later." You tried running out of the room, but Bucky was too quick.

"Huh? I don't feel what?" He was completely stunned that he had gotten so worked up in his own nerves that he missed what you said. He was supposed to be trained in observing people. He should be able to multitask, especially when one task is completely within his own mind.

"Bucky, really it's okay. I'll be fine. We'll be fine! I just, I need a minute... or a few to-"

"Y/N, doll, I'm so sorry." He sputtered as tears pooled in your eyes. What the hell did he miss? "I didn't hear a word you said."

"You... what? Why not?" The tears continued to pool as you did your best to hold them back for when you were alone in your room.

Bucky took a deep breath before he began talking faster than you'd ever heard him speak before.

"I'm falling in love with you." You honestly stopped breathing for a minute. "I was trying to think of how to tell you. That's why I didn't hear you. Steve convinced me that I should tell you. Sam a little bit too honestly. They kept saying it wasn't healthy to keep it all bottled up. And, I mean, I just-"

You cut him off, pressing your lips to his eagerly. The kiss was all teeth and tongue, soft smiles growing into wholeheartedly happy grins.

"You're an idiot." You chuckled, pressing your forehead to his. "That's what I said when you so graciously ignored me."

"I- You what?" Bucky's jaw dropped.

"I'm falling in love with you too."

-

Present

Waking up in Bucky's arms felt right. There was no other way to put it. His presence had a soothing effect unparalleled by anything you had ever felt before.

His face was relaxed, a slight smile pulling on his lips. You brushed his hair out of his face, slowly rubbing your thumb along his cheek and down his jaw.

A familiar ball of guilt grew in your stomach as you cuddled closer to his body. It may have only been two days since you woke up, but this group of heroes quickly found a place in your heart, almost like they'd been there all along. Lying to them about your past was gnawing on your heart, slowly breaking down your resolve.

You carefully removed yourself from his embrace, softly closing the door to your bedroom as you left. You knew he would want to talk about last night, and you just weren't ready for that. Not yet.

You wandered the halls until, three dead ends later, you eventually made it to the kitchen. Much to your relief, the common area was empty. You had just enough time to calm your internal panic about what food you could eat when Natasha walked in.

"I'm about to make a smoothie, want one?" She offered, much to your delight.

"Yeah, that'd be great. Thank you." The level of sincerity of your words caught her mildly off guard, not that you or anyone would have been able to tell.

"So, how are you feeling?" She questioned lightly, hiding her skepticism at your odd behavior. Call her a pessimist, but 3 months with Hydra and you're relatively fine? It doesn't quite add up.

"Oh, um, okay I guess. I feel like my brain is all jumbled." You settled for half truths again, knowing she would easily spot a total lie.

"Right, well that's to be expected after a few months with Hydra. You said they kept you in that room the whole time?" She kept her tone light, trying to empathize with everything you went through.

"Um, yeah... I-" You grabbed your head as memories flashed through your mind. You were in a room, it looked like a lab but it was dark and grimy. People surrounded you, but you couldn't understand what they were saying.

They poked and prodded at you, forcing you to lay down as they strapped you into a metal chair.

"Y/N? Are you okay?" She rushed to you, smoothie forgotten in the blender as you screamed, remembering the pain you felt in that chair. You didn't even realize you were muttering under your breath.

Her voice drew you back to the present. You abruptly stood up, backing into a corner as you glanced around the room.

Slowly, the past two days came back to you. Flashes of memories, old and new mixed together in your head, all out of order.

You were in the Avengers compound.

Your were buried in rubble, people screaming and crying surrounded you.

They thought you were one of them.

You were being arrested, locked in the room where Bucky found you.

They didn't know the truth.

"Y/N?" Nat questioned again, slowly moving toward you.

"I'm fine. I, uh, I'm okay." You took deep breaths, slowly calming all your nerves.

"What happened?" She pulled you out of the corner, leading you back to the island for your smoothie.

"I, um, I was back there." You stuttered, trying to make sense of the image. "But, it was different. A different room." You were too shaken to think about what could happen from sharing this new development.

"A different room? What did it look like?" Nat was eager to hear more. If you didn't remember everything from your three months there, maybe they did something to you, and that's why you've been acting weird.

"It looked, it looked like a basement. It was dark and grimy." You left out the part about the lab equipment. "I, um, I think I'm gonna go on a walk. Just to clear my head a little bit."

You left before she could respond, smoothie untouched on the counter.

-

When you returned from the walk, you could hear Nat talking to Steve and Wanda in the kitchen.

"I'm telling you, they must have done something to her. She's not acting right." Nat was firm, steadfast in her belief that Hydra wouldn't have kept you there without trying something.

You're heart rate spiked at her words, nervousness overcoming your body. They were going to figure it out.

"Nat, she just came back from three months of torture. Of course she's gonna act a bit different. She needs time to adjust back to her regular life." Wanda replied, figuring Nat was just a little too paranoid.

"You didn't see her in the kitchen! Wan, she freaked out. She looked terrified. She was muttering something about experiments. What if they messed with her head?" Nat rebuked, still trying to convince them.

"I mean, I guess it's possible?" Steve stated, clearly unconvinced but open to the idea. "She hasn't been acting that off though, not when you take into account what Wanda said."

"Steve, she hasn't told Bucky she loves him. That would've been the first thing out of her mouth if she was herself." Nat settled him with a glare, knowing her point was made.

You panicked. If they figured out you weren't who they thought you were, what would they do to you? Before you registered your own movements, you were running.

You made a break for the elevator, twisting and turning through the halls in what you hoped was the right direction.

Just as you turned the last corner, you ran right into something- no someone.

"Where's the fi-" Tony started to joke, but after taking in your expression stopped mid-sentence. "Whoa, what's wrong?"

"Nothing!" You replied far too quickly, trying to squeeze past him.

"Y/N, wait." He grabbed your arm, preventing you from getting away. "Talk to me, kid. What's going on up there?" He gestured to your head.

"Really, it's nothing." You wiped a tear from your face, knowing it wasn't helping your case. "I have to go."

"Nope. I'm not gonna let you bottle this all up. You're not going anywhere until you tell me what's wrong. Come on." He pulled you into the elevator, leading you to the lab.

Once he had you sat on the window seat in the back, he asked again. "Tell me what's got you this upset. You know we're all here for you, right?"

You couldn't take it anymore. They were all being so nice, and you were lying right to their faces.

"I'm not who you think I am." You barely whispered the words, overcome with a mixture of guilt and self pity. "I don't belong here." You refused to make eye contact until Tony lifted your head to meet his eye.

"Y/N, you probably belong here more than anyone else, except maybe Steve, but he doesn't count." He tried to lighten the mood, earning an attempt at a small smile from you.

"I really don't. I'm not a hero. I'm a murderer." You cried as you finally admitted the truth. The relief you felt was instantly weighed down by fear at what would happen next.

"What are you talking about?" Tony was clearly confused by your admission. "Y/N, your not a murderer."

"I'm not an Avenger." You moved your hands to cover your face, knowing you weren't strong enough to admit this to his face. "I wasn't in that room for three months, it was three years!" You missed the way his brow furrowed deeper in confusion as you continued to rant. "i don't know why you all think I'm some hero. Nobody was supposed to rescue me. I was in prison. I'm a killer."

You took a shaky breath, as you kept going. "I was in that room because I made a bomb that killed 38 people. I- It was accident, I swear! I didn't mean to hurt anyone... I- I think?" You started questioning yourself as memories flickered through your head.

"It's all fuzzy." You desperately shook your head, trying to make everything clear.

"It wasn't supposed to blow up! It was supposed to absorb energy and convert it into power, but it didn't work." You were nearly sobbing, picturing the people you injured and killed. "It exploded and people died! It was all my fault."

Your breathing quickened again, anxiety at admitting what you had done mixed with the guilt of lying to the only people who have ever shown you kindness causing the panic to set in again.

"Hey, hey! Look at me. You're okay. We're gonna fix this. You're not a killer, Y/N." Tony held your face in his hands, speaking firmly but not without compassion.

"Yes, I am!" You shouted at him, causing him to stumble backwards. "I don't know why you all think I'm someone I'm not, but it's true. I don't-" Your breath caught in your throat as you tried to get the words out.

You managed a mumbled, "I don't belong here." Before you passed out.

Permanent taglist:

@averyhotchner @jesuswasnotawhiteman

Memories tagist:

@otherglowcloud @dontxfearxthereaper

#Bucky Barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #marvel fic #marvel #mcu #Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst

[cryingoverafictionalcharacter]

Sunrise

Prompt: Y/N has chronic nightmares, and one night after having a particularly bad one, Bucky comes to comfort them, leading to the realization that they have a lot more in common than they thought.

A/N: Am I writing this because I genuinely had the worst nightmare of my life, and wanted this to happen instead of staring at the door for two hours, too afraid to move until the sun came up? That's a secret I’ll never tell ;)

Warnings: Swearing, scared reader, sad Bucky, cute fluffy shit

Feel free to send me any requests you may have, I’m on a writing frenzy because homework makes me sad haha.

The hallway seemed to go on forever, taking much longer to get to the kitchen than usual. I had heard a sound down the hall, and went to investigate. The lights above my head flickered, causing the hair on the back of my neck to stand up, but I kept walking. As I walked I called out to FRIDAY.

“FRIDAY is there anyone awake in the tower?” I asked, but there wasn’t a reply, only the sound of the lights of my heads buzzing on and off as they failed to work correctly.

Finally, after what felt like hours, I entered the kitchen. It was dark, the only light coming from the city lights outside, allowing me to see a silhouette of a person. It was Bucky, his back facing towards me. At first I was relived to see I wasn’t the only one awake, but something about him was off. He was completely stiff, like he was frozen in place.

“Bucky?” I asked, making my way around him to look at his face. I finally reached his left, able to see the side of his face clearly, and as soon as I did my stomach dropped. 

His eyes were wide with fear, his face pale, he was looking out the window, like he was looking at something. I had been on dozens of missions with Bucky before and I had never seen him so scared in my life. I opened my mouth to say his name again, but he spoke before I could.

“They’re here” He whispered, barely loud enough for me to hear.

“Whos here?” I asked. Bucky didn’t answer, just pointed out the window. I followed his finger, looking out the compound to see nothing. Were were a few stories up, and we could see the rest of the city below us.

“There's nothing there-” I started turning back to face him to be met with someone else completely. A dark figure, like a shadow standing in the place Bucky just stood. Before I could make a sound, the figure pulled back its arm, burring a knife in my chest.

I jolted awake, sitting upright and grabbing the knife that I kept on my nightstand, holding it out as I looked around room, my eyes adjusting to the dark. I could seethe chair sitting on the other side of the room, my dresser, and the door to the bathroom, just slightly ajar.

“There's nothing there” I whispered to myself, trying to shake myself out of my panicked state, but I couldn’t look away from the door. I focused my breath, trying to slow it, all the while listening as hard as I could, waiting for something, anything. The room was completely silent, and I was just about to lay back down when I heard a sound from the door, causing me to scream and jump out of bed, running to the opposite side of the room, my knife pointed at the sound, now coming from my front door.

“Y/N?” I heard on the other side of the door, before it suddenly swung open, revealing Bucky on the other side. He quickly flicked the light switch on the wall, revealing me standing opposite of him, drenched in a cold sweat, and pointing a knife at him.

“Oh, hi Bucky” I sighed as the light came on, being able to clearly see Bucky's face in the light. My heart was still beating a million miles a minute, but I was finally able to drop my knife to my side and focus on trying my breath.

“Is everything ok? I heard you scream” Bucky said, still on the defensive with his fists raised as he looked around the room.

“Yeah um... yeah sorry, I just had a... I thought you were something else” I said, hesitating on whether or not to tell him the truth about my dream. I decided against it, not wanting him to think I was childish, being afraid of monsters in the closet, or bathroom in this case.

Bucky looked at me for a while, taking in my still panicked state, before dropping his hands to his sides. 

“Want to talk about it?” He asked softly, like a was an animal that might spook if he was too loud. I looked at him, his hair was a little messy, and he was still in a T-shirt and shorts, but he didn’t look too tired, like he had been awake for a while.

I don’t know why, but I didn’t want him to leave, so I nodded, allowing him to walk in to the room fully, closing the door behind him. I walked to the far side of the bed, sitting and patting the space next to me, which he took. There was a few beats of silence, before he finally spoke.

“I heard you from across the hall” Bucky started as I stared down at the floor. “It sounded like you were tossing around, like you were having a nightmare” 

“It was” I said, still not meeting his eyes, but I could feel his on me, watching for a reaction.

“Want to talk about it?” He asked, causing me to shake my head.

“Its stupid” I said, before suddenly feeling a hand under my chin, gently making me look into Bucky's eyes. There was no judgement, just worry.

“If it scared you enough to act like this, I promise it’s not stupid” He said gently.

I contemplated whether or not to tell him. Bucky and I weren’t exactly best friends, but we were close. We had some missions together, and the occasional movie night. Some back and forth flirting but nothing ever happened.

I was too scared to let anything happen.

“I was going out into the kitchen to get something” I started, before jumping straight into my dream, how real it all felt, how scared he looked. The whole time he just listened quietly , nodding to let me know he was actively listening without interrupting. He listened all the way to the end, when I was stabbed by the shadow like creature. 

There was a beat of silence, before he spoke up.

“Did you think it was here?” He asked, referring to earlier when I was pointing a knife at him with crazy eyes.

“I don’t know” I said honestly. I knew he wasn’t going to make fun of me, so I didn’t feel scared to tell him the truth.

“When I woke up... the bathroom door was open. And I kept thinking to myself that I knew there wasn’t anything on the other side. But still. I wasn’t sure.” I finished, looking to see Bucky nodding in understanding.

“I have nightmares a lot” Bucky started, making me look up at him “Its always the same. I’m still the winter soldier, and I’m re living everything I had done. Everyone I hurt. Over and over again, with no control of my body...” He trailed off. It was his turn to refuse to meet my gaze, staring at the floor. 

I gently put both of my hands on the sides of his face, making him look at me this time.

“You didn’t do those things” I started “The winter soldier did. And you aren’t him” He nodded, covering one of my hands with his own.

“I know, it just feels so real sometimes” He said, causing me to nod in understanding. Its crazy how easy it is for your brain to trick you into thinking that the things you’re most afraid of are real.

“So” Bucky said, brining my hands off his face so he could hold them in his own. “You were dreaming about me?” A small smile spreading across his face.

“Oh shut it” I laughed, smacking him on the shoulder, the weight of the panic I was feeling earlier finally leaving my body. 

“You know, I have an idea that might help to make you feel better, if you want” Bucky said, waiting for a reaction.

I looked over at my clock. It was six in the morning. It didn’t really make sense to go back to sleep at this point, so I nodded, making Bucky to smile, before taking my hand and leading me out of my room.

We got into the elevator and took it all the way to the top of the tower. I had never been to the very top, assuming it was just the roof of the building, which it was, but I wasn’t expecting what was up there.

When we got off the elevator, and opened the door to the outside, I took in the sight in front of me. There was a single couch, facing the east, with a pergola adorned with fairy lights overhead, which happened to be on.  

“Its not much” Bucky started, walking over to the couch, me following behind. “Tony was planning on making a social area up here, but it never got finished because he didn’t really need it, but he let me keep this stuff up here.” 

We made our way to the couch and sat side by side. The sun was just starting to come up, and the entire city was beginning to turn a light yellow.

“This is amazing Bucky”  I said, looking aver the city as it slowly came awake. “Thank you... for everything” I turned to face him to see he was already looking at me, a gentle smile on his face.

Bucky and I had known each other for years, and I had liked him for most of that time. He was sweet, and funny, and kind. He knew when to joke around and when to be more serious. And he has always had my back. Now, all those years of passive flirting, and movie nights, and missions almost gone bad had lead to this exact moment, and I was able to realize just how head over heels I was for him. 

Bucky had put his arm around me, and was absentmindedly playing with my hair. Without thinking, I finally closed the distance between us and kissed him. 

It didn’t take him any time to respond. The hand in my hair moved to cup the side of my face, the other moving to my waist, and I moved to wrap my arms around his neck, bringing him even closer.

He pulled away for a second, causing me to frown. Had I taken things to far to fast? Was he second guessing himself about this? I looked in his face and was met with nothing but love in his eyes.

“I’ve been waiting a while to do that” He said smiling.

“Well technically I kissed you so...” I said jokingly, causing him to roll his eyes before reconnecting out lips again. This kiss was quicker, but it still gave me butterflies.

“As nice as this is” Bucky started, breaking the kiss to look at me “I brought you up here to see the sunrise” He said, causing me to smile.

“That's true” I said, moving so I could lean my head on his shoulder and look out on the sky line, the sun already much higher than it was before, painting the city in a dark orange. “But were defiantly starting where we left off” I joked, causing a goofy smile to cross his face.

“I wouldn’t want it any other way” He said, resting his head on top of mine.

_________________________________________________________

AHHHHHH I suck at finishing these but I hope it was ok! Not as much fluff as I would have liked but I just went with what felt natural (I’m still new at writing so yeah lol). Also this story was entirely written for me bc nightmares are ass and I want Bucky to hold me! Either way I hope you enjoyed, and hopefully my grammar isn't to bad. :)

#bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fluff #bucky imagine #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff #avengers fanfiction #avengers imagine

[sailingintothenight]

“HAPPY.” T.H. Imagine.

Tom meets a little angel and you, her mom.

A/N: This is the second part of this imagine. Thank yooooou so much for the love you all gave to the first part. It means the world to me. Thank u♥ Hope you like this one as well. Feedback is always welcome!!!

Sitting on the cold floor of the elevator, the pain finds a way to sneak through the cracks in his heart.

Let's talk about love.

Some say it's best to keep our emotions on the sidelines, to draw a line and never cross it, never fall in love, because losing a loved one can drive you crazy, and the line between sanity and madness is as thin as a thread. Explaining a love like the one you had was like explaining the origin of the universe, too deep as the sadness of losing him, forever. In Tom's case, loving and not being loved is bad, but loving and not being able to be loved by your lover is even worse, because you know that no matter how much you cry or ask heaven why it took him away from you, there will be no answer from the other side, only the infinite emptiness within a cold and lifeless body. But it makes you feel, oh, yes, it burns you skin until you can no longer breath, like being on the edge of the abyss and falling, again and again and again.

That's how Tom feels right now.

"So... have you always lived in London?" His brown eyes hide the tears at the edge of his gaze, and at that moment, you wish you had not heard the anxiety in his voice, or been able to recognize it in his eyes, because life gave you the experience of recognizing the pain in the heart of others. 

Because that pain came after losing someone, like you when you lost the great love of your life, with whom you were inseparable, becoming stronger regardless of the season. But the frozen blizzard of bad times had passed, melting into nothing more than lessons learned and old stories. Some say that you cannot run away from your past, only learn from it, so you did that, you took the lessons of the most painful moments and turned them into null feelings that you kept in a corner of your heart, managing to get out alive from that blizzard and get the prize as a winner. Although from time to time it is good to take a look at the past, open a door that you kept closed and search for those moments that you kept warm within yourself, remembering them with affection, and after that, put them back in the place where they belong.

"If I'm honest with you... I came to London to escape."

His curiosity awakens in his innocent gaze: Tom doesn't consider himself very smart, sadly, but the pieces of his mental puzzle fit together perfectly, creating a one single thought.

"From Marley's father?"

"What a subtle way to wonder if I'm taken." You say, and you chuckle, because his gaze is tender like that of a small child, like Marley's eyes when the world presents her with a new adventure, but then Tom's lips part as the coherent words have vanished from his mind. "Just relax. I'm kidding."

Tom laughs, relieved.

"Sorry, that was very personal."

"It's okay." You shrug and expertly, keep your emotions behind the line. "Marley's father was the best thing that ever happened to me, we had a story like those old love movies, but he left this world too soon."

Tom's heart is on fire, cutting his breath and closing his throat as a terrible fear trickles through his body.

“I think you are very brave, really. I don't… I don't think I can handle something like that.”

But you smiled sweetly, like the person who keeps a big secret.

"I can tell you that I had to be strong, and then I understood that I was." You tilt your head forward, and your cheek touches Marley's hair, which smells like chamomile. Tom can smell it on you and Marley, too: you both smelled like a childhood memory of his, somehow innocent, very different from what he felt being with Hanna. "I feel like you're the type of man who believes that all people act with good will, Tom, and although I'm sorry to tell you that not everyone acts like that, there are people who do: what I mean is that you shouldn't lose faith, because there will always be someone who deserves your love."

His name spills from your lips naturally, as simple as if you knew him, as if you had been good friends in another life. Tom knows, and feels it in his heart, that because of the confidence in your words and the way your gaze deepened when you look at Marley, you had survived because you had found someone to love without fear of being hurt. And if loving was like jumping off a cliff without knowing if we can fly, you had discovered that you had wings, because she had given them to you, because that is how we should feel a real love. But Tom bites his lips, pushing them into his mouth, and frowns with the weight of the pain he feels, because suddenly the memories of his life pass before his eyes like the saddest movie he has ever been a part of.

"And what if you're wrong? What if the person you thought was the right one turns out to be a bad person?"

Your lips part to speak, but the sound of the elevator coming back to life snatches the words from your mind, and the relief, returns to your soul and the body.

"Do you know what is the bad thing with not having Marley's father here?" You joke, but Tom is still waiting for an answer that gives him instructions on how to survive a deadly love. “That I don't have someone to hold Marley so I can stand up. And the truth is that my legs are numb.”

And then Tom does the weirdest thing, he smiles, he smiles and chuckles at a bad joke that should have made him even sadder but instead, makes him forget his sad thoughts.

"I can do it for you."

Tom places a knee on the ground and wraps his hands around Marley's body, taking her in his arms to place her against his chest, expertly, as if he had done it many times already. In dreams, and perhaps dreaming of a father she never knew, Marley recognizes the warmth of his body and clings to him, wrapping her little arms around his neck, hiding her face in the hollow of his neck. The image is like an example of what Noah would have been like with Marley, a painful thought that trickles down your memories as Tom reaches out his hand and helps you to your feet, so that finally the 3 of you can get out of the elevator to the parking lot in the basement.

"You know, Tom..." You say, breathing the cold air from a wide place, and empty at that time of night. "If you chose to love someone and you lost, it's sad, but you can't blame yourself for that because you didn't do anything wrong. Happiness is a choice, and I think happiness after sadness is a choice too."

For a moment, Tom feels his common sense slipping from his grasp, and it's almost impossible to control his emotions that overflow the edge of his wounded heart as it free-falls into sadness, hatred, and rancor, but at this very moment, he feels that it is as light as the breath he can take.

"Thank you." He says, and that word comes from the bottom of his heart.

"You're welcome." You respond shyly, because talking about feelings has always been your weak point. "Well... uh, I can take you home if you want."

Tom smiles, and again, his smile resembles that of a child who has no scars on his heart.

"That would be great. Thank you."

You nod once before leading the way to your black car not far from you, a gift from your older brother for your brave decision to move with him to a quiet London neighborhood. The key in your hand turns off the alarm and you open the back door for him, so Tom can leave Marley in the seat, so she can keep dreaming all the way back home.

"Would you mind if I sit with her behind?" Tom looks at you with his brown eyes, eyes like the color of autumn, innocent and sweet on a well-defined face and a well-worked body, a lethal combination. "I think Marley is too comfortable to let me go."

And she is, Marley sleeps peacefully against his chest, and that image is like a memory of something that never happened between her and her father. You mumble an okay, managing to make him smile before getting into the car with your daughter still in his arms. With the door closed, you walk around the car and enter the driver's seat, turnkey to turn it on and drive out of the hospital and into your new home. The weather is cold at that time of the year, but the heat of the car wraps you all in a warm hug as the London rain hits the window. Through the rearview mirror, you steal glances from Tom, who has his eyes on the landscape, with his hands around Marley's body, her big eyes are closed and hidden behind her long eyelashes, cheeks pink from the heat, her little body warm by Tom's jacket around her.

"So... do you live around?" His gaze returns to the front and makes you look away, back to the empty street.

"Uh, kind of... across the bridge, near Kensington Gardens."

"Great, me too." Tom smiles, and the feeling of living close to both of you squeezes his heart with happiness.

15 minutes later, you enter a quiet neighborhood with beautiful front gardens and lamp posts that shine above them in the solitude of a sleeping place.

"What other secret are you hiding from me?" He asks when you park the car in the third house, 4 houses away from his.

You laugh.

"I'll let you find out for yourself." Your gazes meet in the mirror, and your eyes smile before looking away, missing the moment when his eyes smiled back at you. You get out of the car to open the door for him, so Tom can leave Marley back in your arms and go home, but on your way to his side of the car, Tom is already outside, holding her back against his chest, his muscular arm at the height of her thighs to carry her as if she were his daughter. "I can carry her inside, Tom."

"Let me, I think even asleep, she doesn't want to let me go." Tom chuckles, and closes the door quietly so as not to interrupt her sweet dreams.

Confused, you follow him down the wooden path into the middle of a beautiful garden that your brother took over, to the wooden door that you open before you step aside and let him walk in. The lights come on and Tom blinks in the amber light, admiring the warmth of the place thanks to the hardwood floor and salmon-colored walls.

"Her room is upstairs." You say, and you close the door behind him so you two can go up the wooden stairs.

Austin's study had become Marley's new room: the desk and shelves full of books were off to the side, children's books added to them, a bed in the center, and a corner full of animals plush of all sizes. Tom walks in first, feeling the warmth of a girl's room and pulling himself away from her as he lays her down on the bed under the blanket, listening to her soft breathing that fills the silence of the place as he watches her sleep, his eyes full of peace, just like you when you saw Marley sleep when she was only one day old.

"Good night, angel." Tom whispers before walking away, giving you a peaceful look on his way to the door.

The room sinks into a slight darkness and you both walk down the second-floor hallway toward the staircase.

"You are very good with children, Tom." You smile. "You will be a good father someday."

"Thank you." Tom lets out a small laugh, shy but eagerly awaiting the day when he can call himself a father. "I hope I have a daughter as beautiful as Marley."

A crimson blush stains your cheeks when you arrive to the first floor.

"The future Mrs. Holland will be a lucky woman." You say honestly as you open the door for him, because from the bottom of your heart, you want a noble soul like him to get nothing but happiness, and never, never, have to cry for a love that would never return. "Thanks for being so sweet with Marley."

"I should thank her." Tom mutters, and his gaze travels behind you, towards the place where the little angel sleeps and finally, towards your eyes, the guardian of her dreams. "Thank you."

His gaze is deep, and he makes you tilt your head in confusion.

"For what?"

"For..." As easy as it is to think of the words Tom wants to say, saying them is difficult because of the lump in his throat. He wants to thank you for being the person you are, for being so kind to him, for being as bright as a star and for saving a part of his soul that night with the arms of the angel you created of the love you once felt for your lover. "Just... thanks for showing up in my life tonight, darling."

You smile, because the name he calls you by is loving, and because you know that Marley had somehow helped him heal his wounded heart.

"Good night, Tom."

"Good night, (y/n)."

------

@seapandora @hollandsdream @littlekidsteve @lyzalovealk @blueevelvt @the-endoftime​

I tagged the people who commented on the first story, sorry if you didn't want to!

#tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfic #tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x single mom #tom holland fic

[bwprowl]

Me vs. The Mitchells vs. The Machines

The Mitchells vs. The Machines is a really cool movie. Seriously! It’s the Spider-Verse crew continuing to be at the top of their game, doing their damnedest to elevate and evolve 3D film animation in a way apart from the ongoing Disneyfied edge-sanding seen elsewhere. Several sequences, especially the final fight scene at the end, are absolutely jaw-dropping. A lot of the writing of the movie is also genuinely clever, with some cool tricks of weaving in Chekov’s Guns that you don’t even realize WERE Chekov’s Guns until they’re deployed, but then make perfect sense. And I also just have to say there’s something oddly heartening about a movie that does a lot to target Millenials in terms of nostalgia, but not so much via our shows and movies and music the way other project might go about, but specifically by tapping the internet meme culture of the early-00’s that’s so media-unique to that emergent generation. There’s some genuine heart visible in so many of the levels of how this thing was made that I can understand its touting as an instant classic and the waves of praise and popularity that have followed its release.

Unfortunately, I can’t so unilaterally praise this movie, mostly because I can NOT stop thinking about how poorly-implemented and mis-framed its central familial conflict is.

Oh yeah spoilers for this movie I guess

So I’ll need to detour at first and talk about A Goofy Movie, which isn’t much of an issue for me since I fucking love A Goofy Movie. And watching The Mitchells vs. The Machines my initial takeaway was a pleasant observation that someone had basically grafted A Goofy Movie to The World’s End, which could have made for an extremely fun time for me. A Goofy Movie, so it goes, centers on the conflict between a father and child trying to understand each other, spurred on by the father conscripting the child into an impromptu road-trip which the child initially resents but eventually leans into as a vehicle for understanding as the family members open up to each other and end with a greater appreciation for their familial bond as well as healthier, more open lines of communication. There are comical misunderstandings, dramatic misunderstandings, and escalating Wacky Adventures that keep the trip feeling suitably cinematic in scope. And as The Mitchells vs. The Machines continued on, I kept finding myself rounding back to that comparison and asking “Why am I not getting into this as much as I do A Goofy Movie?”

It turns out to be a point of motivation, actually. In A Goofy Movie, Goofy dragooning Max into the cross-country fishing trip is immediately borne out of his (however misinformed) desire to keep his son from going down a wrong, potentially delinquent or criminal path. Goofy has concerns about the lessened connection and communication with Max, sure, but that’s a symptom of his inability to communicate his actual worries about Max’s behavior to him, not the sum total of the problem he feels needs fixing. Goofy is under the impression there are genuine problems Max is going through, and while he’s got the actual particulars wrong, he’s not really that far off, since Max still IS the kind of kid to elaborately hijack a school function or make up extravagant lies to get attention from the girl he likes rather than just talking to her and asking her out like a normal human-dog-person. Goofy’s objective is firmly centered on helping Max for Max’s sake, and he’s only taking up a few weeks out of Max’s summer and causing him to miss a single party in order to do it.

I lay all that out so you can try to understand my headspace coming at critiquing The Mitchells vs. The Machines and negatively viewing its own take on a plot concept I ostensibly love by default. The problem, as said, is one of motivation. In The Mitchells, Rick’s dissatisfaction with his relationship with his daughter Katie is purely that: Dissatisfaction with their relationship. Katie herself is, by all accounts, doing spectacularly. She’s got a healthy relationship with friends and other family members, she’s gotten accepted into a prestigious film school, and her YouTube account seems to pull pretty keen numbers (With all the tech jokes in this movie it’s a wonder there’s never a riff on her shilling NordVPN or Raid Shadow Legends). The conflict between father and daughter is purely a case of them growing apart in her teen years demonstrably because Rick has no understanding of her current passions and makes no effort to do so, which leads to him having consistently questioned and doubted her ability to succeed in her field. The film frames the impromptu road-trip as his attempt to ‘fix’ the issues between them, but the only thing broken by the presentation of the story is Rick’s approach to parenting in the first place. He could easily have made Katie warm to him on the way out by replacing or paying for the laptop he broke and throwing her a subscription to her YouTube channel, but then the movie would be shorter and we wouldn’t be able to pretend the conflict was anything other than his own pursuit of self-centered actualization.

That’s the other issue, of course, the way The Mitchells vs. The Machines consistently rounds back to the point that Katie is somehow shouldering half the responsibility for the father/daughter communication breakdown. But as stated above, it really has hardly anything to do with her. Katie’s succeeding on her own terms, and the only outreach she would theoretically need to do to her dad would be to make HIM feel better, something he could do himself if he’d only actually pay attention to the cool videos she keeps trying to show him and not constantly deciding that HE knows that SHE will fail. It’s a fundamentally one-sided conflict from what we’re shown, and yet the other members of the Mitchell family continuously treat Katie like she needs to accommodate her father’s personal whims and not hurt his feelings despite the fact that he’s the one who went behind her back and canceled her flight, even forcing her to miss her first week of college (!) simply because he felt sorry for himself that they didn’t like the same things anymore. Again, Katie’s doing great, it’s Rick that decides to make his problem the entire family’s problem, and while I’m going to hesitate to refer to this behavior as out-and-out abusive, it is still absurdly selfish and pointedly poor parenting. 

The movie seems to nominally strive for balance in the conflict, not making it entirely Katie’s job to fix her dad’s hurt feelings, and indeed having a whole sequence where he realizes what a Big Jerk he’s been about not trying to understand or support her passions, and resolving to actually Make An Effort moving forward. The problem is that this is still framed as one half of the equation, as Katie supposedly gets to understand where her dad is coming from, which...makes her feel better about all the times he said she would fail and so she should rely on and appreciate him more? And the reason that’s a fundamental issue is annoying, because it means we have to talk about Rick’s Stupid Fucking Cabin.

Look, I hate doing this. I personally try very hard to keep in the mindset that stories are stories and things happen in them because they are stories. I am loathe to attempt picking apart the points of particular plot points, but the problem is that this Stupid Fucking Cabin is positioned as the heart of the humanity of the entire movie, yet it hinges on a sequence of decisions that no actual human being would ever come by. First off, do you have any idea how long it takes to BUILD a home like that, let alone as one guy apparently doing it himself? Rick spent the better part of his twenties building this big Fucking Stupid Cabin to fulfill his lifelong dream of ‘Living in the woods’, only for his wife to get pregnant once it was finished, leading to him just dropping like that? Was there no planning in this family? Was Katie an accident that Rick immediately was this endeared to? I mean, he totally seems like a pro-lifer. But then why do they need to sell the Stupid Fucking Cabin on account of a kid coming along? How were Rick and Linda planning on living out their lives there if not with resources that could support them as well as a kid or two? Rick could have just raised his kids in the woods in his Stupid Fucking Cabin and they would have stood a better chance at turning out like little duplicates of himself and his own interests like he clearly wanted. That’s to say nothing of this sequence of events being framed as a ‘failure’, despite that fact that Rick handily succeeded at what he set out to do, only to turn around and abandon the thing he succeeded at himself on seemingly the same sort of impulsive whim that leads to him dragging his whole family on a road trip because he doesn’t understand YouTube. There are motivating factors to these decisions he made that could inform the whole context of this supposedly tragic backstory, but we aren’t privy to anything resembling them, and the result is a plot point that seemingly only exists to make Katie (and the audience) feel bad for Rick in the third act of the movie.

The real answer is the ultimate assertion of this thing by the finale, that Katie should be ‘grateful’ to Rick for his ‘sacrifice’ of his dream that supposedly allowed her to be in the place she is now. Except Katie had no part in Rick’s bizarre impulsive choice to build a Stupid Fucking Cabin then sell it as soon as a kid popped out so he, I guess, could feel some sense of important familial contribution. That’s to say nothing of the point about parental figures who make grand, sweeping gestures nominally for the good of their kids, but are effectively and emotionally unavailable in the day-to-day engagements of their lives. Because unlike Goofy in A Goofy Movie, Rick isn’t actually doing what he’s doing for Katie’s sake. Her motivation for most of the movie is to move away from home and go to college, a completely normal-ass thing that children do. Any of Rick’s outreach or efforts to ‘fix’ relationships and situations are purely for the sake of his own hurt feelings, and the way Katie’s mother and brother consistently push her into going along with them only highlights the overt way this whole family’s problems are hung up on the insecurities of of this single stubborn jerk. But then, that’s my other major misgiving with The Mitchells vs. The Machines: Its expected exaltation of the default biological family as some hallowed unit for which it is a tragedy to fall into any degree of dysfunction. This is with pointed dismissal towards the idea of Found Family, seen as a distraction, an obstacle to Katie realizing who her TRUE people are, and coming around to a sense of fulfillment because she managed to massage her dad’s ego for long enough that he stopped being totally dismissive of the things that brought her joy. You see, Found Families are fun, but they aren’t REAL or SPECIAL because they already accept and appreciate you for who you are, unlike these people you’re biologically obligated to share living space with for 18+ years whom you have to forge bonds with through varying degrees of communication breakdowns and compromises in self-agency.

With all that in mind, it highlights some of the smaller issues in the movie’s setup as well. This is perhaps petty, but jeez was I annoyed with the film’s framing of The Mitchells as this ~craaaazy~ ~weeeeiiiird~ family which included such outlandish quirks as ‘Dad who doesn’t understand technology’ and ‘Young boy who really likes dinosaurs’. And the wishy-washy tone of the familial conflict is echoed in the ‘The Machines’ part of the plot, which mostly led to me sitting on edge throughout the whole film as I wondered how it was going to come down on the subject of those kids and their darn smartphones. It ultimately doesn’t go full anti-technology, which makes sense given how much of Katie’s character revolves around using the stuff, to say nothing of the predilections of the people who actually, uh, made this movie. But the most it can manage is a halfhearted “Maybe unregulated big tech bad?” which even then is undercut, mostly I assume because of the various big tech companies involved in producing and streaming this thing. Don’t get me wrong, I’m overall glad it doesn’t go full "durr hburr technology is bad fire is scary and thomas edison was a witch", but a lack of any insight or ideas on that front means that the familial relationship element is the only conceptual element it really has to stand on, and I just spent over 1800 words breaking down why that fundamentally didn’t work!

It’s an aggravating situation, because lord did I want to love The Mitchells vs. The Machines. It’s gorgeous, it’s got some clever bits in the writing, and it can honestly sling a punchline like nobody’s business, there are some KILLER jokes in there. But it just became impossible all the way through the end for me to engage with the heart of the movie, its central connective conflict, on the terms it wanted me to. Now it’s admittedly possible that, perhaps like Rick Mitchell, that’s my problem. I’ve seen a lot of love for this movie from my peers, and it does make me question my own projections: I don’t want to get TOO personal on main, but I admit that it’s entirely possible that people who’ve enjoyed an actually functional fatherly relationship would better engage with the emotive connections this movie wants you to make. But even with that caveat, I was able to find my own way to resonate with the similar stakes of A Goofy Movie just thanks to the more effective way that one was framed, so if this one couldn’t hook me, maybe it was The Mitchells vs. The Machines’ fault after all.

#the mitchells vs the machines #the mitchells #movies #criticism #rant

[avengerscompound]

Catch and Release - 13

Catch and Release: A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count:  2785

Rating:  E

Square filled: @star-spangled-bingo​ - "It's probably too late to go to the bathroom right?”

Warnings:  Smut (MMF bisexual threesome.  Oral sex, Anal fingering, Double penetration - vaginal and anal)

Synopsis: When you overexert yourself on a mission with Steve and Bucky, the boys admit to having fantasies that involve you.  Fantasies that you share.  But with one Super Soldier needs intimacy and the other is still dealing with being touch starved, exploring those desires without anyone catching feelings is a little tricky.

Chapter 13: Return to the Wild

The two weeks you had between accepting the new job in LA and actually going out there to do it, were intense.  It felt that the only free time you had was when you were asleep and that had been lacking really.  Hill was a hardass about you learning what you needed to know before you left, and there was a lot to learn.  Even with the fact you understood the paperwork and there would be your very own AI named Jocasta there was a mountain of procedures and protocols to learn.  Not to mention you were now being let into Hill’s secret underground world of moles and networks.  Every workday was two to three hours more than average.  Then you’d spend a couple of hours on the internet or phone organizing your things being moved into your new home and office or talking to Clint about leads that would need following when you go there.

Then when you were finally done with all that, you’d go spend time with Bucky and Steve.  You’d had sex with them almost every day since talking over whether you should take the job or not.  Partially the three of you were making the most of the last time you have available to you.  They were your best friends and you wanted to make the last days you had together count.  Even outside the sex you were eating and watching movies and playing board games.  Steve sketched a picture of the three of you together to take with you while you and Bucky played Mario Kart against each other.  There was the sex though, it was stupid to pretend you weren’t going up there to squeeze every last ridiculously fun drop out of the arrangement you had.  This was it.  Maybe when you visited New York again you might hook up, but more than like you wouldn’t.  Who knew what things would be different by then anyway.  They might decide to adopt a child.  You might have met someone finally.  It was best to act like this was the last hurrah.

Not to mention, they’d been patiently preparing you for your request.  Each night there had been some anal play.  First getting you used to the sensation to make sure that was definitely something you wanted, and then training you with thicker and thicker devices so when you did take one of them you’d be ready.  It was something they each had experience with given how well endowed they both were and the fact until each other neither had ever been had anal sex before.

You were grateful for it.  Up until now, you had led the show.  It was nice seeing them being the smug ones.  Well, Steve more than Bucky.  Bucky was cocky whether he earned it or not.

By the time the going away party was being held on the party deck, you were exhausted.  You’d attended a few parties hosted by Tony Stark, but this was the best attended you’d seen.  Clint was one of the originals and everyone old and new wanted to see him off.  There were people there that weren’t officially Avengers who had just worked with Clint or the team from time to time and Tony and Pepper had shown up.  The room was noisy and alcohol flowed freely.

You sat at the bar watching Clint absolutely destroy anyone who came near him at darts while you nursed a drink.  You didn't want to get drunk tonight.  You wanted to go away tomorrow remembering absolutely everything.

“You keep an eye on my bird for me, won't you?” Natasha said coming over and stepping behind the bar.  She started fixing herself a drink as she kept her eyes on Clint.

“Can I ask why you didn't take the job yourself?” You asked, turning your attention to Natasha.  “I know he must have had you at the top of the list.”

Natasha gave a small shrug and dropped a cherry into her martini glass.  “I'm not sure I could take orders from Clint and I would hate to undermine him,” she said.  “And I know what Hill’s job entails and it's not for me.  Don't get me wrong, I'd be amazing at it, but I have enough pokers in a whole slew of fires as it is, I don't want to juggle that level of responsibility too.”

“Aren't you going to miss him though?” You asked.

“Yeah, of course, I am.  I'll probably end up visiting all the time anyway.  And who knows?  Maybe I am more codependent than I'd like to admit and I end up just joining the team,” she said swirling a stick in the shimmering pink liquid.  “I did once follow a man to California.  It didn't work out so well.  But what about you?  You're leaving your super-soldiers behind.”

You looked over to where Steve was playing a game of pool with Sam.  “They aren't mine,” you said.  “But yes, I'll miss them.  I'm gonna miss all of you.  But them especially.  Steve told me you gave them the shovel talk too.”

Nat took a sip of her drink and nodded.  “You all did better than I thought.  I was sure by now there would have been some drama or you'd be living together.”

“They’re good people.  They weren't going to hurt me.  They'd have stopped it before it got that far,” you explained as you turned back to her.  “And they're not mine.  I've known that all along.  They're my friends and they were safe but it's time to join the real world.”

Natasha smiled and raised her glass.  “To losing our fuck buddies,” she said playfully.

You laughed and clinked your glass against hers.

When the party started to wrap up Natasha collected up Clint and dragged him off (though far from reluctantly) to do what you assumed was in the ballpark of what your plans were for tonight.  You took it as a queue to go seek out Bucky and Steve.

They were cuddled up on a recliner looking out over the city.  It was rare seeing them with their guards down so low in public, but then a lot of people had left and most of the people left were friends rather than acquaintances.

Bucky held out his hand to you when you reached them and pulled you down on top of them.  “Did you have fun?”  Bucky asked.

“Yeah, it’s been good seeing everyone,” you agreed.  “Could have done without the ‘moving forward’ speech.”

Bucky started laughing while Steve swatted your thigh.  “Too bad, I’m the boss, and I’ll do as many boring speeches as I like,” Steve teased.

“You gotta get one last one before you go anyway or you’ll start missing them,” Bucky added.

You chuckled and curled in against them both.  “Yeah, I’m gonna miss them.  I bet Clint will give completely different speeches.”

“They’ll include puns and mentions of getting pizza after,” Bucky joked.

Bucky’s hand slid up your thigh and he nosed at your neck.

“You want to head down to bed?”  Steve asked you.

“Mm… you make that sound so innocent, Stevie,” Bucky rumbled.  “What she wants is to have us fuck her so hard it takes her through until next year.  Isn’t that right, darlin’?”

“I wouldn’t not like that,” you said, stifling a laugh.

“Don’t be modest now,”  Bucky growled against your ear.  “You want to be pinned between us as we both rail into you, don’t you?”

“Mm-hmm…” you hummed, wriggling on top of them.

“Alright, enough flirting,” Steve said, getting up.  “We’re all sure things and we know it.”

You and Bucky followed him to the elevator.  Bucky pulled you against him as you rode it down, and he kissed your neck from behind as his hands slid up under your shirt and massaged your breasts.

You moaned softly and Steve turned to you and leaned down, kissing you deeply.  It was annoyingly brief though, as the elevator stopped on Steve and Bucky’s floor and the doors opened.

As soon as you got into their apartment the three of you started shedding your clothes, leaving them in a trail from the door to the bedroom.

Steve spun you to face him when you were down to just your underwear and he kissed you hungrily Bucky moved up behind you and as Steve unhooked your bra Bucky slid your panties down to the ground.  Steve’s hands ran down your back to your ass and he lifted you.  You wrapped your legs around his waist and rolled your hips against him.  He was still in his boxers and his cock pressed against you through the thin fabric.

Bucky picked up the lube from the bedside table and squeezed it on his fingers.  He came up behind you and as you ground your hips against Steve as he massaged the lube on your asshole.  You moaned loudly and tried to relax, popping your ass out toward him.  Steve held you in place, kissing your neck and sucking at your earlobe as Bucky slowly eased first one finger into your ass and then another.  You tensed and rocked against him, rubbing your aching cunt against Steve’s clothed cock as Bucky slowly and gently fucked your ass with his fingers, stretching you in readiness for what was to come.

When Bucky took his hand away you mewled needily and rocked your hips against Steve.  Steve responded by lifting you.  You shrieked as he raised you up above his head and guided your legs over his shoulders.   You grabbed fistfuls of his hair and linked your ankles at the back of his shoulders.  “Steve!” You squealed as you tried to steady yourself.

Steve didn’t answer, he just buried his face into your cunt and began to eat you out like a starving man.  His tongue swirled around and wide, lapping at your folds and dipping inside of you.  You moaned and held on, your legs trembling and your heart hammering in your chest.

Bucky moved up behind you, putting his hand on your back.  “Relax,” he soothed.  “We’ve got you.  You’re not gonna fall.”

You relaxed as best you could and Steve began to focus on your clit.  His fingers dug into your thighs as he held you in place.  Bucky’s hand stayed on your back and your let yourself lean against him a little, though your hands stayed firmly tangled in Steve’s hair.  With each jolt that ran through you, you’d moan and pull on Steve’s hair and he would, in turn, moan into your cunt.

Adrenaline coursed through you, heightening your senses and making everything more intense.  Your clit twitched with every flick of Steve’s tongue and your muscles clenched and spasmed.  Your orgasm built and when it broke, it crashed down on you making your legs kick out and your hips buck against Steve’s face.  “Fuck!” You screamed arching back.

Bucky caught you and helped lower you down, taking you in his arms and moving to the bed with you.  You felt high on a mix of adrenaline and endorphins and you were still panting when Steve and Bucky rolled on condoms and got into position on the bed.  You straddled Bucky’s waist and with shaky legs, you lowered yourself down on his cock.  He watched on as you rolled your hips in a figure of eight while seated firmly on him.  Steve moved up behind you and kissed your neck you leaned back against him and captured your lips.  He moaned into your lips and rutted against your ass, his hands sliding up your stomach to cup your breasts.  When you broke the kiss you lay down over Bucky, pressing your body against his.

Bucky’s arms wrapped around you and held you close.  “You sure this is what you want?”  He whispered against your ear.

“Yes, please,” you begged.  “Give it to me.”

Steve pressed his palm to the middle of your back and squeezed more lube on your ass.  The head of his cock pressed against your tight hole and he eased it in.

You keened and curved your back at the burn in your ring muscle as his cock stretched you.  Bucky began to thrust his hips up into you, distracting you from the pain that was blossoming and changing it too.  Steve was patient, he took his time to let you adjust.  When you began to relax he began to thrust.

You were full to breaking and it felt like a wildfire was running through your veins as your two best friends thrust into you, giving you the thing you had asked for and brought you apart doing it.  They held you between them and kissed your neck and back and caressed your skin.  Your second orgasm of the night hit you hard, you screamed out with it and shuddered between them.  Bucky grunted but he kept thrusting, fucking you through it.  That high feeling you had deepened.  Your head felt floaty and soft while your body crackled and buzzed.

“Oh god,” you mewled.  “You feel so good.”

“So do you, darlin’,” Bucky soothed, stroking your hair.

With another cry, you came again, your core clenching and squeezing them tight.  Bucky jerked up hard into you and groaned loudly as your orgasm dragged his over too.  You could feel the pulse of his cock as he emptied into you.

Steve kept thrusting into your ass, but he wasn’t too far behind, he leaned forward and his thrusts shallowed.  “Steve,” you whimpered.  “Steve, come on my back.”

Steve groaned and got up on his knees.  He pulled out and pulled off the condom, tossing it hastily into the wastebasket by the bed as he jerked himself off.  He made a soft grunt sound and released, painting your back in hot ribbons.

You collapsed down on Bucky, breathing heavily and he gently ran his fingers through your hair.   “Good?”  He whispered.

“So good,” you hummed.

The following day you had breakfast with Steve and Bucky before going to your apartment to shower and pack up the last of your things.  When you went down to meet Clint at the Quin Steve, Bucky, Sam, Natasha, Rhodey, Wanda, Vision, and Bruce were all there to see you off.  You and Clint hugged them each in turn and when you got to Steve and Bucky they both engulfed you in their arms at the same time.  “I’ll be coming to check things out in a month,” Steve said. “But you’ll hear from me before then.”

“Yeah, I know,” you said with your face pressed against his chest.

“Did we ever thank you for … you know… everything?  What we did together… I think for most people, that stays as a fantasy.  I’m so grateful that we got to explore that with you.”  Steve said.

You pulled back and looked up at him.  “We did it together, Steve,” you said. “I got just as much out of it as you.”

He smiled and pressed a kiss on your forehead.  “Still.  Thank you.”

You kissed his cheek and turned and kissed Bucky.  “Take care of yourself, darlin’.  And call us tonight.”

“Will do,” you agreed. “Talk soon.”

“Come on slowpoke, we have air currents to catch!” Clint called.

“Shit, alright!”  You called back.

“Fly safe,” Steve said and hugged you one last time.  You waved to everyone as you followed Clint onto the jet.

He got into the cockpit and began the take-off procedure and you took the seat beside him.   “I thought we’d be flying with the kids,” you said as you went through the procedure with him.

“They went via America Chavez express.  They’ll have completely trashed the place by the time we get there.  Unfortunately, the jet needs to come too, so we have to do it the old fashioned way,” Clint explained.

“This is old fashioned?”  You teased.

“In comparison to teleporting it is,” Clint laughed.  “You ready?”

You looked at him and smirked.  "It's probably too late to go to the bathroom, right?”

“Not to worry,” he said as the jet took off.  “There’s a really horrible one back there if you need it.”

“Oh good,” you said, laughing with him.

“Oh and,” Clint said, looking at you through the side of his eye.  “If you’re looking for another fuck buddy.  My card is now open.”

You snorted and nudged him.  “Gee, thanks, Clint,” you said.  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

He patted your leg.  “We’ll be alright.  Besides, there’s In and Out.  Get a few of them in you and you won’t even remember what you were missing.”

You broke down into laughter and relaxed back in your chair.  It was time to look forward and start your new life.

~ END ~

#SSB2020 #steve rogers #bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #stucky #steve rogers x bucky barnes #stucky x reader #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #captain america fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #smut #catch and release #return to the wild

[peakyxtommy]

The Proposal - Wedding Series AU

Summary: Tommy Asking You To Marry Him  | 1.6K Words | All Fluff (Modern AU) | *Photo Credit Pinterest*

The sunlight filters through the curtains on an early Saturday morning. Tommy laid wide awake, while your head rested on the center of his chest. The silk sheets covering your bare bodies from the evening before. While he laid awake, listening to your soft snores, he couldn’t help but smile to himself. Today was the day. The day he was finally going to ask you to be his wife. 

It’s been a month since he’s talked to your father. Polly wouldn’t stop pestering him for the whole month. He took yet another weekend off, earning harassment from his brothers of him becoming whipped. Telling them to “Fuck off”, hold down the fort, and not to call unless it was an absolute emergency. He struggled with taking long weekends because it was what he found his identity and success in. It would always be worth it when he would watch the joy wash over your face when he told you he had a weekend or anytime off really. He would always expect you to fill the day with endless activities which would make him enjoy the time more making memories with you. 

Sometimes it would be lazy as well enjoying time doing activities around the home. 

Domesticated things of gardening, riding and feeding the horses in the stable, or cuddling on the couch watching various shows and movies. Him being suckered into watching your few favorite romantic dramas for the uptenth time, no matter how much he would tease and protest against it, putting up an act, just to give in because he loved the way you would act everytime going through the same emotions, repeating various quotes, and asking his opinion, just like it was the first time you both watched it together. He would end up having those ridiculous songs and quotes stuck in his head for days after, annoying him, but also reminding him of you which brought a smile to his face. 

As he lay awake enjoying the quietness of you both in bed, fingers stroking gently through your hair, he couldn’t wait for the evening he had planned. 

-

“Darlin,  are you almost ready?” He opens the door, smoke in hand, leaning up against the frame. His eyes scanning the semi-chaotic mess of the bedroom. A few different dresses are strewn over the bed, makeup products scattered across your vanity, and you humming away to James Bay playing in the record player. 

As you put the strap of the heel on your left foot in place, your head shoots up to meet his gaze upon you. Taking in his usual dressed up attire, noticing the haircut you gave him this afternoon, bringing out his flawless perfection even more, and the laid back nature of his stance.

“Yes, Tom. Just gotta get me purse together. Five more minutes, yeah.” You respond standing up, fingers gliding down your dress to straighten it out. Going to the walk-in closet to grab your white purse before adding your essentials to the bag. Then moving to quickly clean up your vanity, which made Tom chuckle as this was a habit you had. To tell him so many more minutes before trying to quickly tidy. Once things were to your liking, he clasped his warm fingers through yours before walking you both down the stairwell. 

He grabs your black winter peacoat, helping you button it up, as you leave out the door. The crisp winter air causes a shiver down your spine as you make your way to the passenger side, Tommy opening the door for you. Once he’s strapped in you begin the drive to London. All you knew about the evening planned was that he was taking you to dinner but the rest was a surprise, as he wouldn’t give any hints. 

-

He helps you out the car, as you take in the busy city atmosphere you missed but were glad you lived relatively close to. Everything was decorated for the holiday season which you loved since you were a little girl. A season that was slowly growing on Tommy since you’ve been a part of the picture. As you both cross the busy street, your eyes scan the tall building with lighten up igloos on top, reading the sign that says Coppa Club. You couldn’t help the excitement that was building within you.

“You got us reservations here Tommy!” You squeal as you both enter the warm building and the host finds your reservation. She leads to the elevator that takes you up the two flights to the rooftop dining. The strings of warm fairy lights hang above the igloo dining. She seats you at one closest to the corner and more private with the perfect view of Tower Bridge. 

“Thank you so much for bringing us here for dinner. I really appreciate it, you didn’t have to.” You feel the heat in your cheeks, as his cool blue eyes gleam at you. You’ve been telling him about this place for weeks, happy you were finally able to enjoy it for the first time together. 

“Anything for you. I did it because I love you and if I had to hear you mention this place to me one more time, I would’ve driven myself up the wall.” He chuckles teasingly toward you squeezing your hand. 

-

“Here you go Mr. Shelby, enjoy your ride.” The ride attendance ushers you on to the huge pod of the London Eye. It wasn’t the first time you two have spent an evening together on the ride alone finding it peaceful, finding solace in one another, even though it was a tourist attraction. You loved watching the lights that lit up the city, the other city landmarks, people watching, and listening to Tommy’s laughter as he would find ways to crack jokes or laugh endearing at your reactions during the ride as he held you close to him. 

“You really outdid yourself tonight Mr.Shelby. Should I be worried about you buttering me up for something?” Your hand comes to caress the softness of his cheek, seeing the mischievous glint in his eyes. 

“You think I’d have to do all this, just for me to get what I want. Pretty sure, I have you wrapped around my finger darlin.” He chuckles as his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him. 

“I’m pretty sure that may be true, but don’t forget I’m pretty good at getting what I want as well.” You whisper hotly into his mouth, taking in the smirk on the corner of his lips. He brings his soft lips to connect to yours slow and passionately. His hand holds the back of your head as your fingers come to the nape of his neck. The kiss lasts for a while, the both you in your own little world as the ride continues to move until it comes to a stop at the top. 

When he pulls away he can feel his heart racing and body aching with desire but also the nerves settling in the pit of his stomach as he knows its’ time. 

“Do you remember the day at the cafe by the river?” He blurts out as his lower lip draws between his teeth. 

“Yes, I do. Why?” Your voice laced with concern wondering where he was going with this conversation. 

“That’s the second day, I almost lost you for good. What I knew then and what I still know to be true is, that I don’t want to spend another day without you by my side.” He gets down on one knee and pulls the velvet box from his coat pocket, taking his other hand in yours.

 “The day I got the call you were taken, it felt like a hole in my chest was breaking. I knew I had to get to you. I couldn’t stop thinking about all the little moments we had and how you told me you loved me in the middle of a quiet afternoon of tea because that’s you. Simple and easy going but so much more. 

You love adventure and helping others. You’re a hard worker and too smart for us all. You’re so damn stubborn but I love these things about you. I knew even five months into our relationship that I loved you but was too afraid to say so. I knew in the morning of us moving forward, that you are the woman that I want to marry, because who gets a second chance these days, especially someone like me. 

I promise I will always take care of you, keep you safe, and make you happy for all the days we shall be together.” 

“(Y/N) will you marry me?” Tommy opens the velvet box, revealing the stunning ring. Thomas Shelby was not a man that was super vulnerable and filled with long declarations of love. When he was it was always with purpose. In this moment you knew everything he said to be true, how much he really soaked in all your time together and spent in the good and bad moments. Neither of you regretted anything that came after that day on the river, knowing this moment was worth it as the tears rolled down your eyes and you could see the heat setting in on his cheeks as he waited for your response. 

“Oh my gosh, Yes! Yes, Tommy I will marry you!” He sides the diamond ring onto your ring finger and you help stand him back to his feet. 

“I love you so much (Y/N).” His hand finds its way to the back of your head again, as your faces come close together. Foreheads pressed together, noses touching. 

“I love you more Tommy. I can’t wait to spend forever with you.” 

Masterlist

#tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders one shot #peaky blinders imagine #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby #peaky blinders au #peaky blinder fanfic #modern peaky blinders #modern au #modern thomas shelby #soft!thomasshelby #soft!tommyshelby #wedding series #proposal

[copias-thrall]

This is Halloween (Halloween)

Mary expands Suey's world by taking her to a crazy art party.

(Part: 1; 2; 3; 4; 5; 6; 7; 8; 9)

It’s one of the stretches where you actually haven’t seen Mary in a few days. He’d apparently been by your apartment—dishes were done and he took out your trash—but you’d spent that day hunkered down at a coffee shop so you could have sandwiches with a friend who got a job downtown. And while Mary can be lyrical when he wants to be, his texts are usually brief and full of letters that only make sense to him in his shorthand … so you’re not ever going to get any missives from the front lines from him.

Which is fine: you’re super-busy and full of your own hobbies. Like napping. And complaining. Occasionally you’ll round that out with chip-eating. You’ve never been particularly creative—which makes Mary wince at you every now and then (you love art, you’re just not … adept, and sometimes it seems unfair that he can write music AND lyrics AND doodle great sketches)—but you are a voracious reader. You’d been shocked to find out that not only had Mary read Austen, but he also had a love of Persuasion—a novel you yourself found superior to Pride & Prejudice. He’d been similarly chuffed when he’d realized you liked Chuck Palahniuk for more than just Fight Club. 

Which is all to say that when Mary’s not around, you like to combine your hobbies—a little chip eating while you read, only to fall asleep with the book on your face. 

Tonight is no exception.

It’s nearly Halloween (it’s tomorrow actually, and you’re only slightly bummed that Mary has to work), so in honor of the holiday you’re working your way through an anthology of Lovecraft. Unexpectedly, there's a knock at your door. You check your phone, but there are no texts.

Hmm.

There’s another knock, so you set down the book and sprint to your bedroom to take up what Mary has dubbed your “Masher Hammer.” You make it back to your apartment door just in time for a third series of knocks. When you look out the peephole, however, it’s clear that whoever’s on the other side is blocking the viewer.

Gripping your hammer tight—ready for swing mode—you unlatch your door and open it.

You’re met with the sight of a Jack O’Lantern. 

No—

Not a Jack O’Lantern … some guy with a carved pumpkin on his head.

“Ta-d—Jesus Christ, Suey … put Masher down,” says a muffled voice.

“Mary?”

Mary lifts the pumpkin—a real pumpkin, not a plastic basket from the dollar store—a little off his head enough for you to make out his face. You lower your swinging arm.

“Why is there a pumpkin on your head? What are you doing here?” 

He spreads his arms out and does jazz hands. “Mischief Night!” 

When you just stand there squinting at him, he finally takes the pumpkin fully off his head. His hair is squashed, and he’s only wearing some light makeup around his eyes and on his lips.

“So, you gonna let me in, or … should I duck?”

“Oh, right,” you say as you step back.

As Mary suanters in, you can see his eyes sweep to the couch where you’ve made a nest of blankets and pillows—your book lying face down, and the open bag chips positioned at an optimal angle on the coffee table.

“That looks nice.” He sidles up to you to squeeze your tits through your hoodie. “Almost makes me want to call it a night and get cozy in those blankets … I could crush those chips and lick them off you before I eat you out.”

His hand slides down to your crotch.

You’re trying to take him seriously, but he’s holding a pumpkin under his arm. You snap at his face.

“Mary—focus. What the hell?”

He gives you a put out look, exaggeratedly pushing out his bottom lip—but it’s soon replaced with a wicked grin.

“Mischief Night! Do you wanna go to a weird-ass art party?”

“An art party?” you ask dubiously.

“No, not what you’re thinking.”

He sets down the carved pumpkin on your table and walks to your fridge, rummaging around before pulling out the pisswater beer he keeps around.

“Think of it as a teen-movie house party—but on steroids and no one there got laid in high school. With, you know: art.”

“That’s … very specific.”

He walks back over to you, cradling the beer in one hand, and puts the other on your shoulder.

“We are under no obligation to participate in the orgy.”

You don’t think he’s joking.

He gives you a once over. “It’s also a—hmm—masquerade, so we gotta get you outfitted.”

Your mind darts.

“I only have those stupid headband cat ears my friend got me as a joke.”

He gives you a vulpine smile. “You’re gonna go as me.”

It had been a fun little party of two as you’d put on a YouTube Halloween playlist from your phone. Mary’d given you a dramatic mohawk with his precious airplane glue, then fished around in the pink makeup bag with hearts (that you’d put his stash in as a joke and he’d kept) to give you his iconic look—blood and all.

There was no way you were going to fit in his skinny jeans, but you’d been able to pair one of his well-worn tees (that you hadn’t already stolen) with your favorite denim skirt. Mary had taken off one of his studded belts to wrap around you—it’d needed a couple of safety pins to act as extensions, but Mary had assured you that that just made the style more authentic. Upon Mary’s request, you’d put on your ripped fishnets, and you had your own worn Docs to complete the look.

“Do I get to be a sex-crazed jerk all night?” you’d asked as you’d admired yourself in the corroded full-length you had propped up by the bathroom.

“You say that as if that’s something new and different for you—fuck ow,” said Mary as you’d tapped his balls.

“So where is this place?” you ask as Mary and you head to the train. 

It’s in the old factory district, which means it’s a ways away, but still subway accessible.

“It’s actually in a converted co-op. I think they started out as squatters—unclear—but now it’s above board as a residence and shit. I used to know a guy who lived there for a while—they had sectioned off areas with screens—and he had a corner so he slept in a hammock. Most of the space is for their art, though. What a fucking life to live.”

You look at him, incredulous. “Mare. You live in a 2 bedroom with 4 other dudes.”

He scoffs at you. “We also have a couch. It’s a whole ‘nother level.”

You just hum at him.

When you finally get there—after a few mis-turns in this silent neighborhood full of abandoned brick factories—you’re surprised (despite Mary’s description) to see that the place is lit. There’s a guy standing at the entrance to the parking lot (that slopes dangerously toward the river) checking attendees; it becomes clear that not only is he checking for 21+, but for alcohol and toilet paper. Those without either have to “donate” $10.

“Oh—” says Mary right before it’s about to be your turn. “I’m not Mary tonight.”

“What should I call, then? The ‘Great Pumpkin’?”

“Just not Mary,” he hisses as you shore up to the “bouncer.”

The guy is not in any kind of costume—just grey sweats and a sports team hat. He’s sitting on a bar stool, and he has a little flashlight he’s using to check IDs.

“Hey, guys!” he says cheerily. “Welcome to Magical Mischief Mystery at the Factory. IDs? Ah! TP and suds? Cool, cool.”

He checks your IDs, then looks at you, then your IDs … then at Mary’s pumpkin face, then at you.

“OH MY GOD,” he starts chortling and slips off the stool to grab Mary’s arm. “Mary, you old bastard—I haven’t seen you since Dusty left to get hitched.”

You take a deep breath and—in your best screamo voice—you say, “I’m fucking Mary Goore,” (not a lie) “and he’s ‘Late for Dinner’.”

The pumpkin head turns to you. You can feel Mary’s unamused gaze.

The bouncer starts wheezing so hard that you’re afraid he might expire from laughing.

“Fuck, fuck,” gasps the dude. He shakes his head, eyes watery from mirth, and waves the two of you through.

“I hate you,” says Mary.

“I didn’t call you ‘Mary’, though,” you quip as you slip your arm through his.

“Why do I have to carry all the shit? Here. Pull your fucking weight.”

Mary hands you the toilet paper roll he heisted from your bathroom.

“Are we going to TP something?” you ask as you take the roll from him.

“Heh. No, it’s purely functional. This many people? It’s so the bathrooms don’t run out.”

The two of you enter with another mass of people, traveling through the miasma of secondhand smoke from the smokers. You cough, but Mary inhales deep, sighing. You’re not sure what you were expecting, but you gape as you look around.

You and Mary stand on an open floor—which is what 5 or so floors look out onto all the way up. The place is crowded, but not jam packed. There’s a makeshift kitchen area where a dude in a bare chest and suspenders is accepting the toilet paper and libations. Above him is a white sheet that’s stretched out, on which an Art Film is being projected. The film has no sound because in the far corner there’s a DJ spinning, and a group of people are “dancing” to his jams. Mary was right: it’s like some kind of frat party for the artsy set. Because of the theme, most everyone is in a mask of some sort, and people—or groups of people—are making out in corners in various states of undress. 

Mary grabs two beers, then leads you to a staircase—there’s a freight elevator by it, but it’s got cheesy Halloween “do not enter” tape blocking it.

“The first year too many people loaded into it, and it dropped 3 floors before the emergency brakes kicked in,” says Mary as he notices where you’re looking.

In a loft on the second floor you and Mary watch a woman—nude and covered in white paint—become the canvas to her girlfriend’s landscape painting.

In what’s clearly a shared bedroom, you and Mary peruse some really great paintings and sketches from what must be a number of the co-op residents.

“You should have told me to bring cash,” you say.

“We can always come back. I know a guy.”

You imagine Mary’s probably winking at you.

On the third floor there’s an inexplicable open-air kitchen attached to a bathroom. In it there’s a dude doling out beer from a keg.

“What’s this,” Mary asks him.

“It’s my homemade IPA, dude! Pumpkin for the season!”

He hands Mary a business card.

“We have a small space in the boonies, but we’re trying to get a brewery up and running in the city. Red tape though, man.”

“I fucking hear that.” Mary takes a sip. “Good shit, dude.”

The guy high-fives Mary.

“One for your girl?”

Mary hands you the solo cup, and you take a sip. You were expecting something grassy and hoppy—but the pumpkin actually balances it out nicely without it itself being cloyingly sweet. When you nod, Mary just lets you have his and indicates to the brewer to pump another cup.

The two of you enter what you think might usually be a studio space, but instead there’s a burlesque performance going on. There are some people making out, but Mary and you watch, rapt, praising the skill of the performers to each other.

The fourth floor has the least amount of people. Someone is doing a reading in one corner, and across the way there’s some sort of performance art going on. A woman stands in a white shift and gauze. Every time a dude who looks like a Nazgul rings a bell, she contorts herself to a different pose with a dancer’s ease.

You roll your eyes, but Mary begs your patience—watching solemnly as she continues.

“What is it?” you ask when the set is clearly over.

“Did you not feel it?”

“Uh …”

Even through the pumpkin you can feel his eyes on you.

“She’s a dancing monkey. Bound and constrained, only ever allowed to perform at the whim of her faceless master.”

“Mary …”

“No—don’t scoff. That was meant for you. It’s an allegory for the patriarchy, and I for one found it quite moving.”

You guess you can see it now that Mary’s pointed it out to you. He takes off the pumpkin, and you hold it while he goes over to talk to the woman. You shift uncomfortably as they engage, and she grabs his hands, shaking them profusely. Mary suddenly points over at you, and the woman waves and motions you over.

“Oh my god, look at you!” she squeals. She turns back to Mary. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it—she looks just like you.”

“I liked your patriarchal allegory,” you say.

Mary twists his mouth at you, but the woman just presses her hands to her chest.

“Thank you so much. I’m testing it out here as a protest piece. A bunch of us are going to travel to different cities and perform outside of big corporations.” She grabs Mary’s wrist. “Your boyfriend is wonderful. His song about—”

“—my band’s song—”

“—the nature of performative gender roles is one of my favs.”

You have no idea which song she’s talking about, but Mary looks pleased. So you’re pleased. You wrap your arm around his waist.

“He is pretty great.”

She lifts her veil to chug the glass of water Nazgul hands her.

“It was so nice to meet you person to person, Mary. I’m going to find the ladies before my next performance.”

“Love your work, Lizzy. I’ll put you on the list for our shows. Show up anytime!”

She bows and shuffles backwards as Mary leads you away.

“You have no idea what song she’s talking about do you?”

“I—” you sputter. “Uh. Dead Things?”

Mary looks at you indulgently.

“I’ll let you think about it.”

It turns out that the 5th floor is off limits to party goers, so Mary—back in his Jack O’Lantern—and you wander down to ground level to acquire more beer and to join the crowd of dancers. At some point the two of you take a break to pee, then hydrate as you add your own dialogue to the film on loop above you.

Back on the dance floor, there’s some skanking, some goth writhing, and some line dancing as the DJ spins his own set and sprinkles in some crowd requests. At this point in the night, most of the attendees have already made passes through the upper floors and are now all on the dance floor. Mary does some goth stomping (his pumpkin abandoned and now being passed around), and you do a silly skank until you slip on a slick spot and fall on your ass. After that, Mary pulls you close and grinds against you, his thigh between yours, both of you buzzed from multiple trips to the bar.

“Do you wanna find a corner?” he whispers into your ear.

In any other situation you’d probably say no … but—for all the crowd is packed—this is clearly a private party, one whose hosts don’t frown upon a little bit of lechery. You guess he wasn’t kidding about the orgy, after all.

“Yeah,” you breathe.

It takes a little investigation, but Mary and you find a room that seems to have been either designated or usurped as the makeout room. There’s a writhing mass in one corner, and the bed is covered in rolling bodies. There’re some breathy invitations—and a hand or two lightly caresses your calf as you walk by—but no one insists on participation further than that. 

Mary yanks a pillow from the bed and tosses it to the floor. He pulls you down so that you’re both on your knees, his mouth capturing yours and his hands alighting everywhere. A hand of his sneaks down your skirt, and yours slithers down his jeans—the roving fingers of you each more a prelude than anything, stoking you both up to what’s next.

“Can I fuck you?” huffs Mary.

“Kinda drunk,” you say.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No—just not gonna be very useful,” you giggle.

Because you wore the fishnets you’re not wearing underwear, so all Mary has to do is rip a hole in the crotch area—they’re not even good fishnets, so it’s not like there’s a liner to contend with. He grunts at your wetness.

“You sure?”

“Fuck me, Mary.”

He fumbles with his dick, finally managing to sink it into you. It’s a very awkward fuck—you’re lolling all about the place, and Mary isn’t being particularly steady.

At one point a light turns on only for a Sorry! to squeal out as it turns off again.

You try to swallow your laugh, but your jiggling belly can’t hide your reaction, and soon Mary is laughing too.

“Fuck … shut up … fuck,” he giggles. “I’m trying to get off here.”

You’re just catapulted into further fits, and before long Mary’s soft cock is slipping out of you as he joins you in snickering.

“Crap. I might be too drunk for this too.”

The two of you lay like that for a bit, a feedback loop of laughter, until your belly muscles ache.

“Fuck. Take me home, Suey.”

“Yeah, ok,” you say. 

After some readjusting, you both stumble out of the room. The crowd has thinned, but that’s not to say the dance party isn’t still going strong.

“We should get a cab,” you say.

“Cash?” Mary asks as you guys shuffle out of the building.

“App,” you say as you hold up your phone to poke at your cab app. “My card s’on file.”

“Fancy.”

“S’for emergencies.”

“Oh.”

You give him a lopsided grin. “Like staying too late at a factory party.”

There’s a comedy of errors when the cab can’t find you and cancels, and you have to rebook—only to have the same cab automatically cancel your order again. Mary calls the number for dispatch, and they direct you out to a main street. The cab that picks you up is the same cab that voided your reservation twice, and he yells at you for giving him the wrong address.

You let Mary argue with him (content to doze on his shoulder)—the conclusion seeming to be that while you put in the correct address, the app didn’t like it and spit out a close, but different, pickup address.

By the end of the trip, however, the cabbie and Mary seem to be old friends. He lingers even after the driver validates your card, talking with the guy about where he’s from, until you tug on his arm.

“Sleepy,” you grumble into him.

The cab driver laughs.

“We are beholden to our women, yes?”

“Happily,” says Mary as he wraps an arm around you.

“Have a good night,” says the cabbie, and Mary just raps on the car, waving as it pulls away.

 “What a cool dude,” he says as the two of you shuffle toward your building.

“Mhm,” you mumble.

“Jesus, you’re useless when you’re drunk.”

There’s a lot of fumbling and stumbling, but you both finally make it into your apartment. Somehow Mary gets you into the shower, which you don’t even realize until it turns on, and you shriek when the cold water smacks you in the face before it has the chance to warm up.

“Why am I still in my clothes?!” you whine.

Mary pokes his head in.

“You fucking serious? You almost bit off my fingers when I tried to undress you!”

“I’m more than just sex!” you yell.

“Just fucking wash your face.”

“Kay.”

You fall asleep sitting in the shower, waking only when the water turns cold. It seems to have had a sobering effect, because you definitely feel more clear headed than when you entered—it’s not as funny to be slightly sober and peeling off your cold, wet clothes. Usually you give your teeth the full experience, but tonight (this morning?), you just give them a quick brush.

For all he seemed soberer of you two, Mary doesn’t seem to have fared much better. He managed to get his shirt off, but he’s lying on your bedroom floor—curled in a ball—still in his unbuckled jeans. It would be amusing—and maybe after sleep it will be—if you weren’t so wrecked. It’s a struggle tugging off his jeans, and he semi-wakes halfway through and starts to shiver.

“Wha—?”

He looks at you blearily.

“Help me get your pants off, Mare bear.”

He blinks down at his legs, then sort of squirms his legs to help you wiggle him out of the black denim. Luckily—disorientated as he is—he’s able to assist you in getting him into your bed; he conks out again the minute you trundle him under the covers. The night outside is lightening, and you know there’s no way you can work tomorrow. Today.

Whatever.

You shuffle into your living room and start up your laptop, blinking rapidly as it boots up. When it finally loads, you send off a missive to your supervisor about potential food poisoning you’ve contracted, but how you’ll check your email later this afternoon. You preemptively down some ibuprofen and sneak some of Mary’s Pedialyte.

Mary seems dead to the world when you climb into your bed, but he’s rolling over and wrapped around you as soon as you’re settled, huffing into your neck.

“Took the morning off,” you mumble.

He hums.

You’re in a good doze when he speaks, jarring you back awake.

“Had fun?”

“Yeah, Mare. Now, shh.”

He mumbles something into your neck, but it’s too incoherent and you’re too knackered to decipher it. You just relax into his koala embrace and let sleep take you.

⬅️Previous | Next ➡️

#mary goore #ofc #feral cats fic #gritty girls #gutter punk #my writing #original post #no smut #...kinda #original content

[arabian-bloodstream]

Why I love ‘Attack of the Clones’

I think that Attack of the Clones is the underrated gem of the Star Wars universe. Yeah, I said it. And here is my review of the film and why I think so!

The beginning of the film sets up the rest of the film so well. It's beautifully done. We begin with Amidala's attack, which is a neat reference to how Padme had her bodyguard/double all throughout The Phantom Menace. From that we get the concise, digestible explanation of the Separatist vs. the Republic, and why the Jedi Knights are needed and why Amidala specifically needs Jedi protection as well. It wasn't ham-handed, it wasn't confusing, it flowed so naturally. By the way, it also proved how wrong the Machete Cut is (which cuts out TPM). You *need* TPM for the moments between Amidala/Palpatine to work, and boy, do they work.

Speaking of Amidala needing Jedi protection, what that scene also gave us what further insight into Anakin and Obi-Wan's relationship. Further insight because our first introduction to the two with Anakin as a young man was fantastic. Say what you will about Hayden Christensen's acting–and, no, I don't blame him, I've seen him in other things, he's been good–but he and Ewan MacGregor are fantastic together. Great chemistry, wonderful ying and yang. Their quick ride in the elevator showed a bit of sibling, but also a touch of a father/son vibe, with a dose of mentorship. Overall their friendship shone through. Ah, until that scene with Amidala when the mentorship came into strong play and whoo, boy! that little "discussion" about what a Jedi mandate is and is not right in front of Amidala and her entourage was the very definition of AWKWARD! It set up the differences right off the bat between Anakin and Obi-Wan and really Anakin and the Jedi.

OK, fine, the scene could have been better (as so many in this film--but the same could be said for Revenge of the Sith) had Hayden Christensen done a better acting job. However, as I wrote above, it's really not that Christensen is a bad actor, it's that he's an actor who truly needs direction. For example, Samuel L. Jackson is not a bad actor. At all. And, yet, he's kinda dreadful in these films. Frankly, I never thought I'd think that SLJ is a bad actor. However, He is in this Prequel Trilogy and that's because George Lucas is not a strong director for actors. So Christensen's acting woes can be laid at the feet of Lucas. MacGregor, Natalie Portman, Ian McDiarmid are simply the types of actors who can deliver a performance without the aid of director to guide them. Some can do so better than others. Christensen isn't one of them. So essentially I just accepted that I could harp on the less than stellar acting coming from the co-lead thanks (or no thanks) to the direction or enjoy the overall storytelling, the brilliant weaving together of the threads and how well the characters, the plots and the action pieces worked.

Yes, the actions pieces... like the chase sequence with Obi-Wan, Anakin and Amidala's would-be assassin. That was awesome. Thrilling, sharply-directed and I just loved the humor. The banter was just top-notch between Anakin and Obi-Wan. When Obi-Wan asked what took Anakin so long, had he stopped with just saying he was looking for a speeder he liked it would have been eh, a one-liner without any punch but he kept it up while Obi-Wan was giving directions, with bits about what he liked in a speeder which gave just enough resonance that it had the feel of a long-running joke. This gave it a touch of realism, familiarity to their relationship. It was great, and, again, Christensen and MacGregor are just so good together. Lucas wrote these two so, so well.

And he knew how to twist the knife! Obi-Wan to Anakin: "Why do I think you're going to be the death of me?" {SOBS}

OK, so I wrote above about how if one can put aside Christensen's acting issues it is very possible to see the good of this film. A shining example of this is the juxtaposition of Kamino and the Lake Country on Naboo. Firstly, let's just talk about the awesome of Kamino itself. I simply cannot get over how GORGEOUS everything about Kamino is. The aliens, the design of the infrastructure, the costuming, it's just all top-notch gorgeous. I love every single, solitary moment of the Kamino stuff. The creation and history of the clones, Boba Fett's backstory, him being a clone of Jango–the one who wasn't changed or accelerated, how it so naturally fit into the introduction of the Clone Wars. So brilliant. And also how Jango and the clones were tied into that exhilarating open sequence/attack on Amidala. Aah, just so good.

Now, let's tie that brilliance in with Lake Country... because it *does* tie into Kamino and that is a big reason why I just can't hate on the love story as presented in Attack of the Clones. Because of *how* it's presented. By giving us Anakin and Padme falling in love in the Lake Country at the same time we (through Obi-Wan) learned about Kamino and the clones we saw love and war side by side. It made perfect sense juxtaposing the Lake Country and Kamino. You have the two young lovers falling on the one side, and the Clone army, set up for war, on the other. We know that Anakin falling in love with Padme is going to eventually lead him to take the Dark Path, and the Clone Army is going to turn on the Jedi somehow. Having the introduction of the clones and the introduction of the love story juxtaposed is brilliant because here you have the two key forces that BRING THE JEDI DOWN: Order 66 and Anakin Skywalker falling in love. It's so perfect.

Yes, yes, again, the love story section probably features Christensen's worst acting, but again, I blame Lucas. As for the actual scenes themselves (outside of his acting), well, I like them. I'm fine with the over-the-top dialogue. I don't think there was anything wrong with it. Was it extra? Yes. Is he a Skywalker? Yes. Are Skywalkers extra? Is the sky blue? It's who he is, he's gonna go overboard with his exclamations. It's completely in character for the Skywalkers and for Anakin Skywalker. Totally. Also, in addition to his over-the-top exclamations of love, these scenes also showed us that before he went fully Dark Side, yes, Anakin already did believe in the idea of someone like the Emperor. That idea was something he was for.

Oh, and biggie here, I absolutely think that the "I don't like sand" was a fantastic line. It was about Tatooine and all that it represented, and like he said the opposite of what Padme was. It just meant so much and was (a) a callback to his childhood as a slave, being owned by someone, and the freedom that his mother never got, and (b) foreshadowing for what was to come with Shmi's death because "sand" was representative of Tatooine. *sigh* Yeah, Shmi. Man, oh, man. Shmi's death scene just guts me every time. Seriously, it makes me cry. Now, this... this is easily Christensen's best acting in the entire trilogy. The love and connection is just immediately there between them and when she's gone his devastation is so real and that switch from pain to anger is just ON! Ugh, and when he starts killing and then it swipes to Yoda and we hear Qui-Gon crying out "Anakin! Anakin!" it just breaks my heart. This is one of the best scenes in the entire Saga.

And then were back to the action. The "machines making machines" set piece and the arena sequence are both awesome and fun, with Anakin, Padme and Obi-Wan showing off their skills, wit, bravery, bravado and just overall awesome. And in between the two, oh, I loved, loved the scene between Anakin and Padme before they were brought out into the arena where she confessed her love ("I truly, deeply love you"). It was a beautiful scene, my favorite Anakin/Padme scene. I don't think that Christensen and Portman had the best chemistry or that Anakin/Padme love story was the best written, but this scene was one that I think showed the best promise of what could have been had a better director (sorry, George) and a better love story writer had taken on that aspect. Anyway, back to the action, past the arena battle where the trio were losing despite a valiant effort before the Jedi showed up was awesome, but then they were losing too... until Yoda showing up with the clones and took over and that was awesome!

OK, we're reaching the end now and still we're continuing to get those signs of what's to come. Anakin is truly caught between love over duty, wanting to save Padme over going after Dooku and Obi-Wan is witness and has to really push to keep him on the right path. But wait there's more goodness ahead! Oh, yeah, the triple header of a lightsaber duel between Anakin and Obi-Wan and Dooku! But wait! There's even more! And better! I just... man... I will never not love the Yoda/Dooku lightsaber fight because, dude, Yoda in a lightsaber fight is AWESOME!

Finally, we reach the end and for those who have seen the Original Trilogy we know where this all leads and so it's perfect. This wedding of Anakin and Padme with no dialogue, just the two at the Lake Country on Naboo where they fell in love. It's perfectly done because it should be a happy occasion, but it's a somber affair. Even during their wedding kiss, neither is really smiling. The final long shot of the two, with R2 and C3P0 as their only guests on the balcony where they shared their first kiss against that gorgeous backdrop is so lovely... ah, but we know, we know there is no happy ending here. As the overall feel of the scene tells us despite the visual beauty of it.

So, yeah, this is why I love this movie. This is all the good, the great I see in it.Attack of the Clones: Underrated gem of the Star Wars universe.

#attack of the clones #star wars #anidala #anakin x padme #anakin x amidala

[roonil-wazlib-at-221b]

Inferno: Part 4

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

“Okay, challenge time!” Spider-man chirps into the camera, grinning brightly. “We’re bored and there’s no criminals out at the moment so we decided to show off a little bit.”

You don’t smile into the camera exactly, but kind of smirk as comments start to roll in from viewers of his livestream. Someone suggests a race.

“We could race?” you suggest, pointing to the far end of the roof you’re on. “There and back?” Though you know it’s fruitless—you and Peter are just about the same speed, though he might be a few seconds faster while you have more endurance—you figure it’s a fun enough challenge.

“You’re going down, Stark,” Spidey says. You can hear the smirk in his voice even though he doesn’t have his mask rolled up at all. You roll your eyes and prepare yourself, muscles tensed in anticipation. The wind whips around you and you spit hair out of your mouth as goosebumps appear on your arms. “On your mark, get set, go!”

You shoot forward as he does, breaths coming in short pumps as you sprint as fast as you can go the edge of the building. You stoop to touch the elevated side and spin. Unfortunately Spidey doesn’t feel the need to stoop and he gains a millisecond lead, laughing at your squawk of indignation.

“I win!” he crows through gasping breaths, delighted. You scowl at him, panting.

“Yeah, ‘cause you cheated.”

“I did not cheat. You didn’t specify the rules.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I didn’t think you were going to cheat!”

Spidey crosses his arms. “You can pick the next one if you want, all right?”

You near the phone and squint at the comments. Someone suggests kissing each other, but you ignore that one even if your cheeks burn; no matter who you hang out with, being a young celebrity means a rabid fanbase that both wants you to be in a relationship with someone and wants you to be available for a relationship with them. You’ve learned to ignore it at this point.

After spending so much time with Spider-man during the past three months, you have to admit that the shipping has become a little out of hand. Especially considering you’re pretty sure you have a humongous crush on the guy based on the butterflies in your stomach every time you hang out (but that might also just be nerves from the height, because he prefers to hang out on top of buildings rather than anywhere else).

Someone else suggests doing a backflip, which you don’t know how to do, but that’s sort of Spidey’s specialty.

“Do a backflip,” you decide, leaning back on your heels.

Spidey huffs. “Aren’t you supposed to be doing this with me?”

“We’re showing off, not competing,” you roll your eyes. “I’ll light myself up like a Christmas tree after you.” You need the warmth after all.

“Okay, here goes.” Spidey plants his feet and executes a clean backflip. You clap a few times. “Your turn, Inferno,” he teases.

You rub your hands together and shiver. Spidey watches you shake your limbs out, preparing to call the heat always under your skin to the surface.

But it’s not under your skin.

Your eyes widen and your heart immediately starts to pump. Adrenaline floods your system. You’d completely let your guard down. There’s no heat.

“Y/N?” Spidey asks. “You good?”

“I’m fine.” You avoid his gaze by staring at the ground and clench your fists. Seconds ago you were shivering, now you’re flooded with heat. It’s never been hard to call the heat back, but it’s also never left you completely before. Within seconds you’re glowing red-hot.

“It’s like standing next to a bonfire,” Spider-man admits to the camera. “Hey, maybe your superhero name should be Bonfire instead of Inferno.”

You relax slightly. Though your hair still waves in the wind, you don’t feel its chill at all. You still feel cold. “Yeah, because that sounds so much cooler.”

Spidey waves at the phone. “Well, that’s all for today because the sun’s setting. See you guys tomorrow!” His phone buzzes in his hand and you resist your curiosity as he taps out a quick message to someone.

“Do you have somewhere to be?” you ask curiously.

“Kind of,” he shrugs. Now that the camera’s turned off, he rolls up his mask to just above the tip of his nose. “But in an hour or so. So we still have time to hang out.” His lips curl up into a lopsided smile. You stop yourself from staring at them for too long. “What are you doing tonight?”

You scowl and turn away from him, shrugging your shoulders halfheartedly. “I think the whole team wants to have a movie night. I wanted to watch Wonder Woman but Wonder Boy is coming over tonight and he loves Star Wars so we’re watching his pick. Just like we have every movie night since I came back.” You sit down on the edge of the building, letting your feet swing a little bit.

“And Wonder Boy is...?” Spidey hesitantly sits next to you. His phone buzzes again. He looks at the screen and shoves it back into his pocket.

“My dad’s favorite intern.” You laugh bitterly. “Heir to Stark Industries at this point, I assume. Dad talks about him more than he talks about his fiancee.”

“Did you tell your dad you wanted to watch Wonder Woman?”

You shake your head. “Why even bother? I stopped trying after the second movie night.”

“Then maybe he thinks you don’t have a problem with it,” Spidey concludes. “I don’t know. I don’t see him that often, but whenever he checks in on me Tony seems kind of cool. He never mentions his intern to me.”

You snort. “You obviously don’t hang out with him that often, then. I don’t think he can go five minutes without mentioning Peter Parker.”

Sounding nervous although you don’t know why, Spidey asks, “And your only issue with this Peter Parker is that your dad—”

“Clearly prefers him over me?” you interrupt. “I mean, I guess. I haven’t really talked with the dude that much.”

Spidey hums.

“What about you, huh?” You side-eye him. “What’s bothering you today?”

Spidey smiles the smile that you know means trouble. Something flutters in your stomach. “My biggest problem today is that this suit is just a little bit too tight around my more, uh...” He clears his throat and gestures at his crotch. “Private areas.”

You laugh, surprised. “You mean compression isn’t a good thing for your, uh...”

“My dangly bits?” he supplies, prompting another shocked laugh out of you.

“Well, it might be uncomfortable with girls’ chests, but that’s the best way for us to keep everything together,” you explain. “I’ll take it’s not the same for you?”

“I think for me it’s a little too sensitive for that,” Spidey grins, nudging your shoulder with his. “But I appreciate your concern.”

Your cheeks flaming red, you change the subject. “That bully still messing with you? You know, I could beat him up for you if you wanted.”

Spidey shakes his head. He sounds sad when he replies, even though his mouth is smiling. “Nah, it’s fine, though. If he stopped picking on me, he’d move on to another target. At least I know that I can take the hints, you know?”

Your chest feels a little warm at that sentiment and you lean your head on his shoulder. “You’re the best, Spidey. If only my dad would take you home instead of Parker.”

“I bet he’s not that bad,” Spidey reasons. “I assume getting to know him is out of the picture.”

You huff at that and sit up. “You’re absolutely right. First off, it would be proving my dad right. He said I can’t make friends without his help, but I’ve got you, haven’t I? Completely without his help.”

Spidey clears his throat.

“Plus, if I did decide to hang out with Parker and Dad, I’d have to deal with their inside jokes all the time as well as Dad constantly praising Parker more than me.”

Spidey shifts uncomfortably and you elbow him. “I’m serious!” you insist. “I walked into the lab when I didn’t know Parker was there and it was insane. He stared at my dad for five seconds, Dad nodded and tossed him a wrench and it was apparently exactly what he wanted. Then later, Dad literally said something like ‘two nine four cat computer’ or some other gibberish and Parker replied ‘Turn it the other way’. It’s absolutely ridiculous. They act more like family than I ever have with Dad.”

“I know it’s been a tough transition,” Spidey starts and you snort, taking your head off his shoulder and looking away. He thinks he makes a great therapist, but he really doesn’t and you’re not really in the mood.

“I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” You perk up. “How’s your Lego friend?”

“Lego fri—oh, you mean Ne—yeah, I know who you’re talking about,” Spidey stutters. “We’ve been busy lately with finals and everything coming up but his parents are going to get him the Millenium Falcon set for his birthday and we’re going to spend the whole day making that together. So that’s really exciting.”

You smile at how excited he sounds.

“Yeah?” he suddenly asks.

You frown. “I didn’t—”

He holds up a finger to shush you and mouths, “Karen.” That is, you know, the name of his AI. He jumps to his feet. “There’s an ATM robbery in progress five blocks away!”

You also jump up. “You want help or something?”

“It’s fine,” Spidey assures you. “You’re not in your suit anyway.” Without warning, he reaches around your waist and jerks you off your feet. You stiffen. If you weren’t such good friends with him you would tug away, but three months does build up some trust.

Still, your heart is pounding by the time your feet touch solid ground.

“Have fun hanging out with your dad and Parker!” he calls, jogging backwards as he adjusts the mask over his face completely. “Maybe he’s cooler when you get to know him!”

You roll your eyes and wave goodbye to him. You’re about to call an Uber when someone calls your name and you look up.

“Y/N Stark, right?” what looks to be the leader of a group of boys asks. You nod. “Can we get a picture?”

“Sure.”

You take the picture and decide against calling an Uber at this time, instead opting for jogging home. Of course, your ‘jog’ could be classified as a light sprint, so you arrive at the compound in only 45 minutes.

“How was hanging out with Spider-man?” your father asks.

You shrug. “Fine.”

“You two are pretty close, huh?”

“We’re friends,” you simply reply.

And nothing more. If there’s one thing you know about Spider-man, it’s that he’s very down to earth. He would never want all the fame that’s associated with dating a Stark. He hardly likes the fame he gets as Spider-man; why else would he keep his identity a secret? Besides, you couldn��t really date someone whose name or face you don’t know, even if they are funny and goofy and sweet.

“I finished upgrading your suit,” Tony adds. “It’s in the lab. I’m having Peter look it over just in case I missed something.”

Oh, so apparently Tony respects Peter so much that he has him look over his own work. You scowl and your palms start to heat up. “I don’t need Parker to sabotage my suit. Thanks, Dad.” You stomp towards the lab.

“Come on, Y/N,” Tony calls with exasperation at your back. “Just give him a chance!”

Sure enough, stupid Parker sits with his back to the door, curls wild. He really needs to get a haircut. He’s staring at a hologram of your suit.

He hardly stirs when you enter the lab, save for examining the right sleeve of the suit where a small flame is embroidered. Somehow, his dismissal of you makes you even more annoyed, so you march over to him and turn off his hologram without a word.

“What the hell, Y/N?” he spits.

“I don’t need you to sabotage my suit, Parker,” you hiss back. “I can look over my dad’s coding perfectly well, thank you.”

Parker rolls his eyes. “Yeah, like messing with your suit is one of my priorities. It would be my greatest pleasure in life to see a criminal stab you because I loosen the weft just enough.”

“Well, considering it wouldn’t hurt me, I doubt you’d be too bothered,” you snipe back.

“It would still hurt you,” Parker points out. “It just wouldn’t kill you. As much as you dislike me, that doesn’t mean I want to cause you harm. Besides, your dad would kill me.”

You snort.

“What, you think he wouldn’t be bothered if his daughter got hurt because of me?” Parker frowns.

You roll your eyes and throw yourself into a nearby chair, pulling up a hologram for a suit upgrade for Spider-man you’ve been considering. Parker chokes. “What’s that?”

“None of your business,” you respond automatically, using your left hand to view the different web combinations you could implement. With your right hand, you unlock your phone and text Spider-man.

@Y/N_Stark: hey, you get home okay? the robbers beat you up too bad?

Your screen shows that he hasn’t read your text yet, so you leave your phone unlocked and on the table, waiting for his response. You highlight his crotch and type an equation to enlarge the area. It’s tricky because it still requires support.

Your phone buzzes on the table and you practically lunge to read his response, which is a little humiliating, but oh well.

@The-Official-Spiderman: yeah, im all good. they were no match for me and my bulging muscles. they didn’t even put up a fight. the second they saw me they gave up

You roll your eyes.

@Y/N_Stark: yes, you’re totally an intimidating figure dressed up like an arachnid and climbing the walls

@The-Official-Spiderman: hey, you love it. its part of my charm

@Y/N_Stark: and you’ve got so much of that don’t you

You glance over your shoulder to make sure Parker isn’t spying on you adjusting Spider-man’s suit. To your relief, he seems engrossed in his phone as he taps away. Thank god for technology. It’s two teenagers that like to ignore each other’s best friend.

@The-Official-Spiderman: uh, yeah, my hordes of female fans would agree with you there

@Y/N_Stark: oh my bad, forgot you were such a big celebrity.

@The-Official-Spiderman: youre damn right it was your bad

@The-Official-Spiderman: hows it going with Parker and your dad?

@Y/N_Stark: oh, you know, the usual, my dad’s letting parker sabotage my suit and trusts him to check his own work and won’t even give me projects to work on because i’m still ‘adjusting’

@The-Official-Spiderman: if you think Parker’s going to do such a bad job, why don’t you work on it with him?

He’s kind of got you there.

@Y/N_Stark: you really think I want to spend more time than is required with him?

@The-Official-Spiderman: i have to go work on hw. i’ll ttyl, ok? just try to talk to Parker, all right? you never know he may surprise you

You opt not to respond to his message and turn off your phone just as the lab’s door opens. “Y/N! Underoos!” your dad calls enthusiastically. You’ve never understood that nickname for Parker. When you asked about it, Peter turned red and stuttered. Your dad, similarly terrible at lying, looked away and muttered something under his breath.

“Oh, look at this,” Tony groans dramatically. “Two teenagers that could be talking to each other ignoring each other on their phones.”

Parker turns off his phone, grinning star-struck at your dad, and you roll your eyes. “Is it time for the movie?”

You roll your eyes and turn back to your work. Problem is, you have no idea just how much you should expand that part of his suit. You’ll have to ask Karen for his, um, measurements next time you get her hooked up. It’s not weird, right? Not if it’s just for suit purposes. Just for suit purposes.

“Almost,” Tony replies. “Episode V, right?”

“Actually,” Peter says slowly. You’re still pretending not to be paying attention, but you watch out of the corner of your eye as he taps his chin. “I know we’ve been watching the Star Wars series in order, but I think Sam’s getting a bit sick of watching it. Why don’t we change it up?”

“What should we watch, then?” Tony leans against the bench with his hip.

Peter shrugs. “Y/N, any idea?”

You also shrug. Sure, you’ve got an idea, but your dad obviously doesn’t want to hear your opinion, so why should you offer it?

“Come on, Y/N,” Tony wheedles. Maybe he’d only just noticed I’m in the room, you think darkly. “There’s gotta be at least one movie you’re dying to see.”

There are quite a few, actually. You have a list of every movie you heard about over the internet that you want to see. You probably could watch them, too, but you’ve never been a fan of watching movies alone.

Your dad’s phone dings. He looks at it and curses.

“What?” you ask, sitting up.

“Ross called a meeting,” Tony grumbles. “For all the Avengers.”

You stand.

“All the adult Avengers,” he corrects.

You sit.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N, but it looks like movie night is going to be postponed.” Tony presses a quick kiss to your forehead. “You can pick next time!” he calls as he strides out of the room, but you know he’s going to forget that promise before next movie night.

“At his office?” you hear your father say just before leaving. “Are you kidding me?”

You clench your jaw, disappointment making your eyes sting. Without taking it in, you sit stiffly and stare at the hologram of Spider-man’s suit. Your dad will never give it to him, you know that. He’ll never even look at the design.

Parker coughs behind you. You whirl, insults on the tip of your tongue, but you’re taken aback when he’s closer than you’d thought. His hands are behind his back and he scuffs his toe on the floor. Is it you, or does he look... shy?

“We could still have a movie night, if you’d like,” he offers.

Your knee-jerk reaction is a firm no. Before it leaves your mouth, however, you hesitate. You’re not sure why.

“Whatever movie you’d like,” he promises, running a hand through his hair. “And I won’t say anything to upset you.”

You frown. Your problem with Parker doesn’t have anything to do with him. It has everything to do with your father. He knows that, right? He’s got to after your very first interaction with him.

You bite your lip, studying his earnest face, his brown curls, his puppy dog eyes. He reminds you of someone. Maybe your father. They certainly act enough like family. Finally, you nod your assent.

The smile that spreads across his lips is blinding. It makes you happier than you feel a right to be.

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

You feel lighter today than you have in a while, and so cold you even bought a sweatshirt. Spider-man cracks another joke that makes you laugh, bending over. Your abs have started to hurt.

When you look up, he’s staring at you. You color. “What?”

“N-nothing,” he stutters, making a move as if he’s going to push hair out of his face but his mask covers all of that so he just looks like an idiot. “It’s just... you’ve gotten a lot happier than you first were when you were released from the Raft.”

Self-conscious now, you adjust your hoodie and look away.

“Shut up,” he says aloud.

“What?” You know he did not just tell you to shut up—after you didn’t say anything, no less.

“No, Karen,” he explains. “She keeps telling me to...” He shakes his head. “It’s stupid.”

Despite yourself, your heart rate picks up. “What?”

“It’s just...” Spider-man’s fingers twiddle together in his lap. “I’m not a very impulsive person. You know?”

You laugh. “You’re Spider-man. A radioactive spider bit you and you decided the best thing to do was become a vigilante. You throw yourself into danger every night without a second thought. I’d say you’re pretty impulsive. At least as Spider-man. I don’t know about your secret identity.” As always, you raise your eyebrows at him in silent question, curiosity burning like the fire under your skin. Though you don’t outright ask him what his secret identity is anymore, it’s no secret you’re curious about it.

Spidey’s lips twist into a bitter smile. “When you put it that way...”

You laugh softly and turn your gaze back to the skyline. You can still sense his eyes on you, though. When you turn to look at him, something in the air crackles. He’s staring at you wordlessly. You see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows hard.

“Y/N...”

“Yeah?” Your throat is suddenly extremely dry. Is he going to...

“Can I have your credit card?”

It feels like a kick to the gut.

“What?”

“I’m gonna go buy churros,” he explains. “I’ll pay you back. But I know that you carry your credit card and I can’t exactly carry mine in my suit, so...”

“Yeah,” you respond faintly, already digging in your pocket for the plastic. “Yeah, of course.”

“Thanks.” He smiles at you. “Hey, I bet I can do a triple flip before I land.”

“I’ll take a video so you can post it,” you suggest. “If you make it.”

“Oh, I’m gonna make it,” Spidey vows. He unlocks his phone and hands it to you, pulling his mask down in the process. “Just watch.”

You click record and point it in his face. “You’re not gonna make it.”

“Oh, I’m gonna.” Spidey jumps up and down like an athlete preparing for a race. “Here I go!” He takes a running start off the roof, sending a web to a nearby building. The web’s slack catches him just feet before he touches the ground—you gasp despite yourself—and slingshots him into the sky where he easily flips three times in the air and lands in a crouch.

You end the video and cheer. Spidey shouts and raises his arms in victory. “Did you see that?”

“That was awesome!” you shout down at him.

“Told you I could do it!” He waves. “I’ll be right back, all right?”

You wave back and click on the video to rewatch, your heart still racing after that scare. He may have advanced healing, but he’s not as indestructible as you and sometimes—like just then—you’re extremely aware of it.

His phone buzzes in your hand as someone texts him. You mean to swipe the notification up, not wanting to intrude on his privacy, but accidentally click on the text.

It’s from... your dad? You blink.

Mr. Stark: are you still with Y/N?

He won’t think it’s too much of an invasion of privacy if you only respond with a simple yes, right? It is only your dad, after all, and you’re not going to read any of the other texts.

Spidey’s so easygoing, you reason. He’ll be fine with it as long as I tell him right as he comes back.

You type out a quick yes and hit send.

You can’t stop your eyes from straying up slightly to the other texts Spider-man apparently shares with your father. Even though he says he doesn’t hear from him often, it looks like he’s been texting him... all day?

Your brows furrow as you read their conversation just from today.

Mr. Stark: Y/N’s been working on your suit for days. I noticed she had to expand the crotch... what’s that all about?

Me: ok so it is a little tight but it’s not a big deal and I didn’t think she was actually listening to me when i said that

Mr. Stark: you could have told me at any time, kid

Me: I didn’t want to bother you

Mr. Stark: you’re never a bother, Underoos

Me: I’m still on for Saturday, right?

Mr. Stark: Of course. Y/N said Wonder Woman, right?

Your hands are shaking, vision blurring as your eyes burn. Why is Tony calling Spider-man Underoos? Why is Spider-man coming over on Saturday to watch Wonder Woman if Saturday isn’t even scheduled to be a movie night?

Your stomach hurts.

You have to read more. You scroll up. Up past the constant texts where Spider-man texts your dad about where you are, how happy or sad you seem, if you got any injuries while fighting crime.

A drop of liquid splashes onto the screen. You scrub furiously at it and then at your eyes, continuing up. Up past the constant texts that aren’t even about you; about building suits together and movie nights and nicknames and gifts that Spider-man is so, so grateful for.

Up past the texts where Tony calls Spider-man Underoos, and kid, and Spiderling, and—

You stop when you see what you were looking for; (your thumb hurts. How long does it take to get churros?) proof that your father and Spider-man have been spying on you, making fun of you behind your back, invading your privacy, lying to you—the list goes on and on.

Mr. Stark: Hey, Parker, thanks again for agreeing to approach Y/N as Spider-man. It makes me so much less worried to know that she’s got a friend and someone to look out for her.

You don’t bother to read Spider-man’s response. No, Peter Parker’s response.

Much gentler than you thought possible, you turn the phone’s screen off and place it down on the ground, remembering just how many times Parker must have been laughing at you behind the mask. When you told him you can make friends without your father’s help. When you told him he’s your best friend. When you told him about your mother. When you told him what the Raft was like, something you hadn’t even told your father.

You’d spilled your entire life to him and he was just acting the whole time. Making fun of you the whole time.

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

It turns out that climbing up buildings with churros in each hand is difficult. Peter transfers both to one hand, but climbing with one hand is still hard. Eventually he rolls up his mask and places them delicately in his mouth, making sure his mouth is only touching the wrapper and not the actual delicacy.

Thankfully, he reaches the top of the building without dropping the churros or biting through them. He proudly displays them, looking around for you. “So climbing is a lot harder with no hands than you’d think—” He notices his phone, locked in the center of the roof, and stops abruptly. “Y/N?”

He sets the churros delicately on the ground and scoops up his phone, unlocking it automatically. When he sees what you were looking at on his phone, his stomach drops.

“Oh, shit.”

Inferno Taglist:

@paullrud @eridanuswave @loveissupernatural @moistpotatobear @oh-annaa

Peter Parker x Reader Taglist:

@iconicbabesss

Forever Taglist:

@lemirabitur @annymcervantes @queenmissfit @quiet-because-it-is-a-secret @iksey @thehyperactiveteen @luxmoonlight

#peter parker #Peter Benjamin Parker #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #reader insert #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #reader x peter parker #you x peter parker #tony stark #stark!reader #reader x spiderman #spiderman #spiderman x reader

[crimsonhorroreyes]

Missing Her

The tower was quiet. Much too quiet. Even with music playing, the movie on the large TV of the common floor, the clanging of dishes from the kitchen of the same floor as Wanda and Pepper made a nice dinner for everyone, and the mechanical sounds of Nat cleaning her gun while she listened to Tony, Bruce, and Sam argue over something that likely didn't matter. Thor had been in Asgard for weeks now. Clint had gone home for the weekend hours ago. Vision stood at one of the floor to ceiling windows and watched the city; most likely also listening in just like Nat. Steve and Bucky sat next to each other on the couch in front of the tv, Steve's arm draped around the other man's shoulders. Steve was only half paying attention as something to do but Bucky could only focus on how utterly quiet everything felt. Sure it was a well deserved break from the craziness that made up the lives of the Avengers but it just didn't feel quite right. Not without her. 

Her laugh lit up the entire tower. Her smile was absolutely contagious. Her presence felt like home. Her name was Camille Rayne Ridley but the general public knew her as Vector. Those that called the tower home knew her by Rayne; other than Tony, Steve, and Bucky of course. To Tony she was Raindrop and the other men had many other pet names for their girl.

Rayne had been called on by Fury for a solo mission that seemed never ending. Her darling boys had literally been counting the days she was gone. Two months and four days. Fury assured the team everyday that their girl had green-lighted but it didn't make Bucky feel any better. He was becoming anxious at this point. He supposed it could be that he and Steve hadn't slept just the two of them for this long in several years and that it made falling asleep a little harder for the pair. They just wanted her home and in their arms. Bucky knew Steve was more affected by her absence than he let on and that fact alone made him even more anxious.

Dinner was uneventful to say the least and once everything was cleaned up Steve and Bucky retreated to their floor for some alone time. They got into some lounge clothes after showering together, choosing to lay in bed cuddling for the remainder of the night. Steve had put on some music as background but it was one of the vinyls Rayne had put on the record player. They both smiled. She had chosen to play some Frank Sinatra while she showered and they remembered coming home to the familiar music from their time. She always did little things like that to make them fall that much harder for her. 

"I miss her" the brunette stated as he watched his boyfriend climb into bed. "I miss her too, Buck" Steve settled into bed, laying his head on Bucky's chest. "You remember when she left" the blonde kept his gaze forward with a small smile on his lips. "How could I forget" Bucky smiled all the same. 

"I've got a mission boys. Fury just called" Rayne spoke as she quickly slipped into her suit. "This late? It's already seven" the blonde joked. The woman giggled lightly, her light brown locks falling around her face as she put her boots on,"Yeah, in the morning." Bucky chose to laugh lightly too before speaking up, "How long?" "He didn't say but it sounds like a long one. I'll finish as soon as I can though" she looked up at her brunette lover and smiled. She knew he hated when she left on her own; both of her boys did. "Be careful alright" Buck wrapped his arms around her waist knowing they couldn't argue much with Fury's short demands. "You both know I will be. I want to come home to you in one piece" she smiled, kissing him. It filled Steve with so much love to watch his lovers. "You better" the blonde soldier added as he followed in Bucky's steps when Rayne made her way to him. She smiled into the kiss before breaking and making her way to the door. "I miss you both already" she blew kisses to both of them, watching as they both acted like they caught them before dashing out.

"I love the way she says goodbye but I hate to see her go," the brunette added. Steve smiled but it was short lived, "I hope she's alright." The men fell into silent agreement as they thought of all the things that could be happening to their precious girl.  "I bet she misses us just as much as we miss her" Steve continued, not wanting the music to be the only noise as it was soft. Bucky nodded, "You know she does. She always does."

Steve had a nightmare that night. It was a bad one. One that sucked all the oxygen from his lungs before he woke up. It woke Bucky but only because he never slept soundly without both of his lovers. Steve never had many nightmares unrelated to his PTSD that actually woke him up so when Bucky noticed that Steve's eyes were still perfectly focused he was surprised. The Winter Soldier knew it must have involved the team because before the blonde felt comfortable enough to lay back down he asked Friday how everyone in the tower was. They talked for another hour about anything and everything to keep his mind off of all the things bothering him.

"You look horrible" Sam's voice came from the elevator. "Last night's attack hit Bucky pretty hard. He couldn't sleep" Cap answered since his lover was currently in the shower. "Yeah, I heard Tony was up all night too" Sam walked into the super soldiers' kitchen where Steve was sitting, "How long has she been now?" The blonde frowned, "Getting too close to three months now for my liking. I think we're both going a little crazy from that too." "I thought so. We all miss her too. It doesn't feel normal without her anymore" Sam smiled fondly, "She's definitely part of the team." That brought a smile to Steve's lips as he couldn't agree more. 

Steve and Bucky and been settled into bed for two restless hours when they heard the elevator ding from their living room. Footsteps made their way into the kitchen, prompting the boys to look quizzically at one another. They lifted they're tired selves from the bed and made their way quietly to find who had been so kind as to visit them at twelve in the morning. "Rayne" they called out confused, shocking the poor girl. She whipped around, closing the refrigerator door as she did. "Gosh you scared the hell out of me. Did I wake you up? I'm so sorry" she sounded tired herself. Even more exhausted than them in fact. That didn't stop them from running over to hug and shower her in kisses. She smiled doing her best to keep up with them until Bucky squeezed her a little too tightly and she squeaked in pain. They both released her and looked down at her with concern. "Where are you hurt" Steve wasted no time with his question. She looked up at him. "Please don't be too worried, but I got shot the other day" Rayne's words caused her soldiers' eyes to widen. "The other day? How bad is it" Bucky panicked. "Calm down Baby, I'm okay. I was able to dodge it so it didn't hit anything vital but it went straight through some of my skin over her" she used her left hand to gesture to the meatier area just under her rib cage on her right side, "it hasn't healed yet so it's still pretty tender." "Can we look at it" Bucky asked, worriedly cupping her cheek with his metal arm. "Just to make sure" Steve added, mirroring his boyfriend. "Of course, I'd love some help getting out of these clothes anyway" she smiled at them. She was fine. Rayne had been shot before and it was much worse than this.

They took extra care when getting comfortable in bed after getting her showered and re-wrapping her wound. She was beat up pretty bad but not as bad as the soldiers were expecting after such a long mission. She was covered in bruises and abrasions all in various states of healing, even her left eye showed little signs of a healing shiner.

Steve was curled into Rayne's back, his arm wrapped around her so that his hand rested in the space just above her heart. He made sure not to put too much pressure on the bullet wound. Bucky faced her with his hand on her hip. He admired the way his lovers looked in front of him like this. Rayne's left hand rested between Bucky's cheek and his pillow. Her thumb gingerly rubbed over the skin just under his eye on his cheekbone. The fingers of the woman's other hand were entwined with Steve's.

This was the moment. This was the moment Bucky needed to bring all the sound back to his world. He could hear their mixed breathing and the fan they keep on because the boys get warmer than most people. The rain that had picked up outside. It was comforting to him.

"I love you so much Baby Doll" he mumbles with a smile. "I love you more" her eyes flickered open to look at her brunette boyfriend. "I love you both the most" Steve chimed in half asleep, they could hear the smile in it though. All of them shared a calm laugh before drifting to sleep happily.

As per usual, Steve woke up first. Eyes landing on the bodies of his lovers breathing deeply next him. They were in the same position as when they drifted off to sleep. All of them really had been exhausted. Steve felt refreshed after finally getting a good night's sleep. Ignoring his normal morning routine, the blonde super soldier couldn't bear to get up. He wanted to enjoy this perfect moment. Remember every detail. He felt so incredibly lucky. 

James Buchanan Barnes was an extraordinarily handsome man in his eyes, inside and out. He was rough around the edges - what Avenger wasn't- and Hydra had royally fucked him over but Steve loved everything about the brunette man. Steve let his eyes wander all over as much of his boyfriend as he could see. Bucky's hair was a little matted from the shower they all took together. His eyes closed and unmoving under the eyelids; he wasn't dreaming. Probably for the best. His toned, bare chest peeked from under the blankets of their large bed.

Camille Rayne Ridley was a stunningly gorgeous woman to Steve. She turned heads when she walked into a room, loved with the entirety of her heart, and kept her teammates grounded. Her levelheadedness on the battlefield was matched by none other. She was unbelievably smart, reminding him a lot of Stark. He supposed that was why they got along so well. He admired her. She had been through a lifetime of hurt in her short time on this Earth and still managed to keep her beautiful smile. She was pressed comfortably into his chest so there wasn't much he could see of her features. He did, however, feel her soft familiar skin under his fingertips. Her long, braided hair draped over her shoulder and his forearm. If he tuned in on the feeling he could tell her light brown tresses were still damp.

"What are you still doing here Handsome?" Bucky spoke, his voice quiet and gravelly from sleep. Crystal eyes cracked open to look into deep ocean ones. "I couldn't bear to leave this," the Captain smiled. Carefully the men leant over their precious sleeping girl and allowed their lips to meet in a honey-sweet kiss. Taking a moment to look back into each other's eyes once they parted. "This feels good, feels complete again" Bucky settled back down to look over the female treasure they called their girl. Steve nodded, nestling back into his spot. "She's sleeping hard today. You think she's on any medication" the blonde wondered aloud. "Depends on how long ago 'the other day' is. The wound didn't look too bad but it's still tender so she probably stopped taking whatever she was prescribed already. You know how she is"Bucky answered, taking in her expressions as her eyes danced beneath their lids. "She might be having a bad dream Stevie," he added. "As long as it doesn't classify as a nightmare we'll be okay" Steve kissed Rayne's shoulder gently. She breathed out deeply from her nose and pushed her body back into his a little in her sleep. Bucky smiled, "that really is a talent, ya know." Steve met eyes with his male brunette lover once more and hummed his response. "Kissing all the bad times away like you do."

The super soldier's spent another three hours drifting between softly talking to each other and light sleep - having told FRIDAY not to let anyone disturb them, unless it was an emergency, until further notice. That's when Rayne finally stirred from her slumber. Yawning and bringing her fists up to rub her eyes. She found Bucky in front of her with a smile; just as she had left him only it was bright now with the sunlight. She smiled back, "morning Buck." "Good morning Baby Doll" he'd given her many nicknames but this was one of her favorites, "Stevie just fell back to sleep." She hummed and looked up at him, begging with her eyes for a kiss. Bucky gave an airy laugh that was quiet enough so the sleeping Cap wouldn't wake. He leaned in to his girlfriend to give her a kiss much like the one he and Steve had shared hours earlier.

Bucky would give Rayne anything she desired so long it was within reason. Steve all the same. They were irresistible to him. His gleaming rays of pure sunshine in an otherwise bleak and hate harboring world covered in deep crimson. He felt sharp, jagged, and unworthy in their presence sometimes. They saw so much good, they caused so much good. However, despite everything, they loved him. He knew they did. It was what kept him going, grounded. It made his heart flutter, full. It made his stomach drop when they were hurt. Most of all, it made him afraid of death. He didn't want to leave them. He couldn't. He knew how it would affect them and he wasn't about to let something like that happen.

"What time is it FRIDAY?" Rayne asked, now facing the ceiling. "It is eight thirty-one in the morning" the AI's voice causing the Captain to stir awake once more. "Well good morning Princess" the blonde mumbled. Bucky smiled as his two lovers shared a sweet morning kiss of their own. "We should really get up" she giggled with her lips lingering over Steve's. 

They did finally get up, though it was well past nine. When they left their floor of Avengers Tower they found Nat and Wanda had a mission but that everyone else was on the common floor. They had all heard that Rayne was finally home and wanted to see her. The woman was so happy to be home to see her team that she ignored the slight pain of her wound when she gave hugs to everyone. There was laughing and talking, just like normal. It felt good to all who were involved.

The tower was no longer quiet. It felt alive with happiness. It felt like home once again. Bucky really focused on anything now. He just enjoyed the smiles and chatter that filled the room. He smiled himself, completely content.

(Just a disclaimer: I consider my MCU with Rayne inserted as an AU or a parallel universe. I change a lot of things around but i have a lot figured out for it so let me know if you’d like to know more. :) )

#stucky #avengers #original character #marvel #mcu #steve rogers #bucky barnes #captain america #the winter solider #love #romance #fanfic #fluff #oneshot #stucky/oc

[princess-cordelias-writingblog]

Behind The Door (Peter Parker xFem!Reader)

A/N: First Peter fic ever!! I absolutely love the gif btw. Peter is slightly older but you’ll find out soon enough on the fic. This is for  @spideyboipete writing challenge, congrats on the 300F love!!! -Danny

Words: 3,411 (pretty sure is my longest one so far)

Warnings: hints of an abusive relationship, badly written ngl. Terrible jokes (blame spidey or me for those, we suck) lfsjghsg I’m not so sure this is good but is something, I hope you guys don’t completely hate it

Prompt: #6 "what if this isn't the end?"

Listen to me.

I heard a glass shatter on the wall in the apartment above mine At first I thought that I was dreamin'

Peter jumped slightly; still half asleep, he turned around on his bed and opened his eyes lazily looking for something out of place. He could’ve sworn he’d heard glass shattering, but on his room there wasn't any trace of something out of place, maybe his dream was really vivid...

But then I heard the voice of a girl And it sounded like she'd been cryin' Now I'm too worried to be sleepin'

And then he heard the muffled cries above his head. His spidey senses helped to get a clearer sound of what was going on: Y/N was crying.

Y/N L/N was his neighbor, a kind girl. Every time she and Peter shared the elevator she’d nod without making eye contact and Peter would greet her with a soft “Hi”, trying to sound more chill than how he usually felt around her. It was a secret (the only secret he’d managed to hide) but he had a tiny crush on her.

And now she was crying and despite having the spidey sense working so well, he couldn’t tell what was happening, all he could hear was her soft cries and the sound of loud steps from one corner to the other, so the obvious answer, she wasn’t alone. Suddenly, Peter felt sleepless.

So I took the elevator to the second floor Walked down the hall and then I knocked upon her door She opened up and I asked about the things I've been hearing

He dressed up and grabbed one of his web-shooters just in case things got ugly and someone was trying to hurt her. He got out of his apartment and took the elevator to the next floor, walking the same amount of steps he usually made to his place, just instead of ending on his number, he ended on hers. Peter knocked on the door and it took a few minutes for it to be opened. He also noticed that for a moment he couldn’t hear crying anymore. It was actually way too quiet now and just when he was about to step back and go to his place thinking maybe she fell asleep while watching a movie, the door swung open and Y/N was there.

“Uh- Hi! uh-Y-Y/N right?” He stammered, “Sorry if I woke you up is just, uhm... I heard loud noises and I was wondering if you were alright?”

She said, "I think your ears are playing tricks on you" Sweater zipped up to her chin

Things were definitely not alright. Y/N had puffy eyes and messy hair, she kept pulling her sleeves down and covering as much as she could of her body with a sweater two sizes bigger, she threw him a nervous smile and shook her head, she tried to sound calm but Peter could hear her heart beating much faster than his and he went on full spiderman mode.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” He asked, this time in a lower, more urgent voice.

“I’m fine, Parker,” She answered, impassive, “nothing going on here. Maybe you heard something from your next-door neighbor or just your ears playing tricks, haha”

“Are you sure?” He tilted his head so he could see inside her place, but nothing seemed out of order, maybe she was in fact just watching a movie that made her cry.

"Thanks for caring, sir, that's nice of you But I have to go back in Wish I could tell you about the noise But I didn't hear a thing"

“Totally,” Y/N nodded, then looked back for a second and frowned, “listen... it’s nice of you to come here and make sure I’m alright but is all good, really. But I have to go back in or my boyfriend will start to worry”

Boyfriend. He didn’t know Y/N had a boyfriend, that must’ve been the steps he heard. 

“Oh,” He felt like the air was escaping his lungs and time went slower, a boyfriend. She had a boyfriend. “Yeah, sorry for this”

“I hope you can find the source of that noise though,” She smiled a bit warmer this time, “otherwise it’ll keep you up all night. I wish I could help but I honestly didn’t hear... maybe it was the wind”

“S’alright” He shrugged, already turning around, “have a good night”

“Goodnight, Parker”

She said, "It must have been the wind, must have been the wind Must have been the wind, it must have been the wind"

It’s been two weeks since Peter found out about Y/N’s boyfriend, and although she’d assured him that everything was fine his gut kept on insisting that it wasn’t. Not just his spidey sense, the way her whole body tensed up while talking to him wasn’t normal, she never acted that way around him. He had known her for almost two years now, something was wrong.

At first, the sounds were discrete, some loud thumps here and there, not that often. Then he started to raise his voice during night time and things started to shatter more often than not. That guy was abusive no doubt, and Peter needed to help.

So I was layin' on the floor of my room Cold concrete on my back No, I just couldn't shake the feeling I didn't want to intrude 'cause I knew that I didn't have all the facts But I couldn't bear the thought of leavin' her

But how? He didn’t know exactly what was going on, and with what excuse he’d go and stand there, demanding answers? The guy could easily shrug them off as just inventions of his mind and unless Y/N was ready to speak up she wouldn’t raise her voice. He knew things like this could happen, he didn’t blame Y/N, but he was worried sick about her.

So one day when he knew Y/N’s boyfriend wasn’t around, he went up again and knocked her door, asking again if she had any idea of what things could be making the “mysterious noise”, Peter tried to act calm and unthreatening, talking about the whole thing half-joking like he didn’t know.

“Sorry, Parker” Y/N sighed, he could tell she was a really good liar by the way she could carry herself despite the loud thumping of her heart, “Still no idea of what you’re hearing...”

“Call me Peter, please” He scrunched up his nose, “Parker sounds like you hate me” 

His neighbor laughed and Peter’s heart felt heavy at the thought of not hearing that sound as often as he would’ve liked.

“I don’t hate you, I promise,” She opened the door fully and invited him in.

“So...” He looked around for any sign of oddness, “how’re things?”

“You know, going” She grabbed two cups from the kitchen and pour coffee in them, handing one to him and placing the other in front of the boy, “you want any sugar or milk?”

“Both please” He smiled, nervously fidgeting with the laces of his hoodie. “Only going though? I always imagined you’d have a busy life”

“Sometimes it is” She came back from the kitchen with the milk and sugar and put them in the middle of the table, finally sitting in front of him, “however, things are going slower lately, maybe because I don’t go out as much as before”

“Why’s that?” He blushed realizing he was being too nosy, “I mean, if you want to tell me about it, if not that’s fine-”

“Don’t worry, I don’t mind” Y/N interrupted, then her body tensed up like she was getting ready to run away from the conversation, “uhm... my boyfriend doesn’t like to go out as often as mind, he’s more of a ‘stay home and binge watch some show’ kind of guy”

“Oh, too bad” Peter was trying so hard not to show any sign of how angry that was making him, not only this man was hurting her but he was also keeping her away from the world, like it was some kind of possession only he could use.

“No, I mean-” 

But her voice got lost in the middle of her reply when the sound of keys showed up, and soon enough the door opened and Y/N’s boyfriend was coming through.

So that’s him, Peter thought.

When the man saw Peter on his dining table he went pale, the hand that was holding the keys closed on a tight fist and it looked quite painful, but nothing compared to what Peter wanted to do to him.

“Who’s this?” he asked roughly.

“Peter Parker” He answered before Y/N could introduce him, “I’m your neighbor from downstairs. I came here to ask Y/N about some noise I’ve been hearing for half a month now and I think is coming from here but she hasn’t heard it, perhaps you have?”

Instead of trying to sound friendly and like he meant no harm, Peter did his best to sound intimidating and give him a look that he was trying to translate into a specific thought: I know exactly what the noise is.

“Sorry man,” he answered with the same attitude, “I can’t help you.”

“Peter, this is Mike” Y/N said, “he’s my boyfriend.”

“Were you leaving then?” Mike asked in a tone that lacked kindness.

“I was” Peter stood up and stand eye to eye with the other boy, around the same height as him. He was nothing impressive but had an aggressive vibe, like he was in fact, something to fear. But Peter wasn’t afraid of a beater. “Nice to meet you, Mike”

He took his hand and made sure to squeeze it as hard as he could without breaking it, Mike tightened his jaw and returned the squeeze but did no harm to Peter, since he was way stronger.

“I’ll walk you out” Y/N mumbled hurriedly while walking past them and opening the door, she now acted different once more, the hand that wasn’t holding the door was tight against her leg and she couldn’t stand still, she looked at Peter and smiled awkwardly, nodding for him to get to the door.

“It the noise comes back,” Peter said to her in a low voice once he was out of the apartment, this time giving her a look that clearly meant something else, “please Y/N, I worry about-”

“I told you already, Peter” She insisted, but tears were already starting to form, “it must be the wind, next time make sure you close all your windows. I’m fine, I...” She swallowed hard, closing her eyes for just a second, “I can fix this.”

Peter watched as the door closed on his face, speechless, desperate to save the girl he was so in love with. He would do anything to save her, he wanted to.

She said, "It must have been the wind, must have been the wind Must have been the wind, it must have been the wind"

Out of his mind, Peter turned on his old-school boombox (he always liked retro stuff) almost every morning when he knew Mike wasn’t around, it was a very stupid thing, a song wasn’t going to help Y/N and it wasn’t going to get her out of the relationship. But while he waited, while she waited for a better day, he kept playing that song just so she could feel less lonely, so she knew Peter was always there. Waiting, trying.

Aim my boombox at the roof, I'm playing "Lean on Me" Just so that she knows that she can lean on me And when she hears the words, I hope she knows she'll be okay

It was patrol night, Peter put on the spidey suit and went out to the city to help others, he had to, after spending almost a month without going out afraid that Y/N might need him. That night she had gone out so he was both, glad and relieved, cause that meant she could still go out without Mike forcing her to stay and he could do his hero duty.

Peter sat at the rooftop of a random building near his place, it was almost time to go back but since the night was too pretty to ignore, he waited there a few minutes and stared at the moon, his most childish side made a wish, and he asked for Y/N to be okay, happy. Even if he couldn’t ever be with her, either because she didn’t like him or the timing was never right, he wished for her to be always surrounded by people who loved her and live a happy ever after story. 

Someone started to argue at the end of the street, loud screams of a girl and angry grunts of a man. Peter focused his stared and finally, he found the source of the noise.

He moved as fast as he could, putting his mask back on and jumping from the building, throwing webs at the fastest pace until he finally landed right in front of the couple. The man didn’t see him since he had his back turned but Y/N’s eyes opened in surprise, her attempts to push Mike away from her slightly faltered.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt but I’m sure this is not what people would call the perfect date” When he spoke, Mike jumped and looked over his shoulder, horrified with the sight in front of him.

“Y-you’re-”

“Oh so you know me” Peter reply, a bit too amused of the opportunity in front of him, “good, so you know what is about to happen unless you let her go, right?”

“This is not your business, bug” He spat, grabbing Y/N tighter, “my girlfriend and I are just having a chat”

“I’m not his girlfriend anymore!” She cried out, tears falling from her eyes at the way Mike was holding her, “We broke up two days ago and he keeps following me around!”

“Oh c’mon, she’s just acting up, are you really gonna believe her? She’s crazy!”

“Now buddy,” Peter made a disapproving sound with his tongue, “I don’t know if you got any brains left but if you do have you heard of the ‘Me too’ movement? Cause if you have, you’ll know I believe in what she says completely. And that means I believe you’re a dick.” 

He didn’t wait for a reply, Peter threw a web directly at Mike’s face and pulled, Mike’s grasp on Y/N finally let loose and she stepped back as far as she could the moment Peter punch Mike on the nose with his free hand. He heard the guy whine and watched as he looked for him blindly, throwing his fists into the air helplessly.

“Way to go, man” Peter commented jokingly, “you’re really beating up all those ghosts”

“Come here you prick!” Mike exclaimed, now trying to get the web out of his eyes, something Peter knew to be useless.

“I’m afraid I pass,” He shot another web to Mike’s ankle and pulled again, making him fall on his back, Peter kneeled beside his head and whispered in the lowest, scary voice he could do, “Now listen, if you go anywhere near this girl again I’ll make sure you don’t have any hands left to grab anything like that for the rest of your life, you hear me?”

“Fuck you!” Mike growled from the ground.

“Fuck you Mike!” Y/N seemed to have gained courage during the few minutes of that night, she looked at Mike completely disgusted. “With or without Spiderman’s help, you don’t get to touch me anymore.”

“You heard the lady, no hands allowed” He grabbed Mike’s hands and cuffed them behind his back, “Do you want me to help you take the trash out? The Police station must be about six blocks that way”

“Yes, thank you” She still had a frown on her face, but her eyes were softer now, filled with relief. “He deserves what is coming...”

And when she hears the words, I know exactly what I'll say Promise I'm not playing tricks on you You're always welcome to come in You could stay here for an hour or two If you ever need a friend

A week after that night, Peter still felt like he needed to stay awake longer during the nights, the times he slept his dreams all had to do with Y/N running away from things while he was unable to reach out to her. After the fourth sleepless night, Peter heard a knock on the door.

He got up quickly thinking it was some kind of emergency and stumbled through the hall and towards the front door. Y/N was there waiting for him.

“Oh, hi Y/N,” He gave her a small, anxious smile, opening the door completely and letting her in, “all good?”

“Yeah,” She walked slowly and gave a curious look to the surroundings, “I know is late, sorry. I-uh... been wanting to thank you for a while”

“What did I do?” Peter asked with genuine curiosity, he closed the door behind him and walked her to the living room.

“You cared,” Y/N laughed nervously, “you didn’t have to but you tried and I pushed you away pretending nothing was wrong, cause I thought I could fix it alone. You must think I’m an idiot for dating Mike”

“Don’t call yourself that” He frowned, from the corner of the couch he reached out and pulled the blanket from behind Y/N, offering it to her in the process, she took it with a shy ‘thank you’ before Peter continued his argument, “I know ending a... complicated relationship is hard, I wanted to help but I understand if you still felt like you couldn’t trust me either, I’m... Well, I’m a man” He chuckled.

“It’s over now,” She wrapped the blanket tight around her shoulders and sighed, “my thing with Mike, I kicked him out like a week and a half”

“Really?” Peter pretended to be surprised by the news, although he already knew the whole story, Y/N had to tell all of it on the police station. But since that was Spiderman and not him, Peter let her continue.

“Yeah, and it was a crazy week,” She shook her head like she still couldn’t process the whole thing, “I mean, I even met Spiderman”

“No way!” Peter’s smile was bigger now, and he could barely stay in character. “How is he?”

“He was... nice, I don’t know” Y/N replied, deep in thought, “I can’t help but feel a bit off when I think about him, somehow when I heard him talked I thought I knew him from somewhere else. And the way he broke his grasp, like he knew exactly what was going on...”

She narrated the encounter to Peter, and he heard it from start to end and nodding, trying to give his full attention.

“Well, maybe he did, y’know?” He commented at the end, “I heard he’s got this sixth sense that helps him to get the bad guy, and no offense, but between you and Mike it must have been easy to tell which one was the bad guy.”

“None taken,” She laughed, but there was still something about it that didn’t sound fully honest. 

“Y/N?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you sure you’re good?”

“I...” Her head fell to her hands and groaned, passing her hands through her hair and making a mess of it, she shook her head.

“What is it?” Peter changed his position on the couch so he could face her fully.

“I know he can’t come near me anymore, and Spiderman promised I’d be safe...” Y/N prompted her legs up on the couch and hug them protectively, “What if this isn’t the end? What if he manages to come back and attack me?”

“If that ever happens, you call me and I’ll go to you,” He reassured her, he grabbed the hand closest to him and gently held it, the only way of comfort he could do without thinking he was stepping a line, “we’re friends, I’ll be there if you need me. Or if your place feels unsafe, you’re always welcome to knock on my door and I’ll let you in as long as you want to.”

“Thanks, Peter,” For the first time in what Peter felt like eternity, her heart was at ease, her rhythm in sync with his own. She pulled her phone out of her pocket with her free hand and stared at the block screen, “shit, is almost two in the morning, I should head home...”

“Right,” Peter cleared his throat, he felt sad about letting her go, he still felt guilty and sad about many things, but it was her time to heal, she had to lead the way. Peter had no say in that, for him, it was okay as long as she wouldn’t push away anymore.

We can talk about the noise, when you're ready, but 'til then I'll say, "It must have been the wind, must have been the wind Must have been the wind, it must have been the wind"

Peter had to fight a bit, but she finally agreed to be walked to her door, once they got there, he felt slightly disappointed that the walk lasted so little.

“Have a good night, Y/N” He whispered, already turning away from the door.

But a pair of hands pulled him by the shoulder and turned him back around, suddenly he found himself in a tight embrace, Y/N’s hair smelled like flowers, it was nice. Warm, gentle and yet, she hugged him like her life depended on it.

“You know,” Y/N continued, the voice came muffled since she was hiding her face on his shoulder, “I wish you don’t wake up to any strange noises anymore”

“Must have been the wind...” He shrugged, hugging her back and gently rubbing circles on her waist.

Y/N L/N and Peter Parker were just friends. It could stay like that forever, or it could turn into something else with time. Peter didn’t mind, as long as Y/N was happy.

Thanks for reading :)

#peter parkerxreader #marvel #spiderman xreader #Danny's writing #ace300writingchallenge

[ryanmeft]

Movie Review: High Life

I have a confession: this is the second Claire Denis film I have seen. You do not have to shame me for this: I am very prepared to shame myself. Having been absorbed completely by White Material and Isabelle Huppert’s portrayal therein of a woman so out of touch it was amazing she could tie her shoes, I continually added movies such as Let the Sunshine In and Beau Travail to my DVD.Com queue, only to get in the mood for a silent comedy and push them down the list. I watched Denis’ latest the other day, and you may be happy to know I have put Sunshine near the top and will be leaving it there.

This isn’t necessarily because High Life is a great film. There are things within it that can make even the most patient, most wine-sniffing art film snob slosh their fermented grapes impatiently, and I am about as far from that crowd as one can get; I’m an off-puttingly blunt midwesterner at heart, and there were times I wanted to turn it off. I didn’t, because it gave me something I crave like a drug, the very reason I watch so many movies, including this one, sight unseen: something I wasn’t expecting. No, better: something I never could have expected, because I could not have predicted it. It is a film where convicts set loose in space under the false pretenses of investigating a black hole cope with sex, loneliness, ambition, and parenthood. In service of this somewhat meaningless plot description, it includes a scene in which Juliette Binoche uses a sex machine and ceiling straps to imagine herself in coitus with a person in an animal suit.

If you read that sentence and thought “I’ll never see another film like this one”, and you liked that thought, you may understand why I’m going to give this movie a high rating despite an uneven execution. It stars, primarily, Robert Pattinson and Binoche as two of the convicts. We learn what Binoche’s character, a fertility-obsessed doctor named Dibs, did through dialogue; we get flashbacks to what Pattinson’s Monte did, which is for my money one of the film’s missteps. I was enthralled by Dibs’ story precisely because I had to take her word on it. The film begins with Monte, who has the charge of a baby girl named Willow, jettisoning the deceased bodies of his fellow crew out into space. It then skips back, showing how things reached that state, then forward to when Willow is a teenager, and sometimes it jumps back and forth between these times. What happened and how, questions of whether Monte is the girl’s father, become less important than the cadences of life on the ship, the push and pull of death and life. The latter is often represented by sexual fluids, those of both sexes, which the film is not shy about.

Before anyone groans with disgust at that, I want to remind you that nearly all of us laughed at a movie where semen was used as hair gel. We have little issue with the stuff of life and biology being on screen, as long as we are kept at a comfortably vague angle to it. I admit I flinched the first time the results of someone’s pleasure were seen; pop culture has conditioned me well. Yet these things are not in service to bawdy jokes or even cheap lustful thrills, but to the depiction of patterns of life. Dibs takes the sexual and reproductive measures of those on board---hostile, fiery Boyse (Mia Goth), forceful and demanding Chandra (Lars Eidinger), clinical and removed Nansen (Agata Buzek), grounded and pragmatic family man Tcherny (Andre Benjamin)---yet she gets close to no one, in any way, and lets cold machines take care of her needs. Pattinson’s Monte has moved to the opposite end of coldness, having declared celibacy---there’s a concept not much seen on film screens---an act with a dozen layers. He engages in the unavoidable human need for nurturing by working in the ship’s garden, and his non-sexual attitude is informed by higher awareness, as he seems the only person on board fully aware of and at peace with the truth of his own exile. Pattinson, sex symbol to millions of teenage female libidos of all ages, plays here a father who does not have sex. As he has done in indie roles from The Rover to Good Times, he continues to show how much more he is than fantasy characters. When he once again spends years in that realm as Batman, I will feel a bit cheated, though likely not for the same reasons as your average SDCC attendee.

The fact that High Life contrasts inspirational poster ideas of space against the true savagery of man elevates it as a philosophical piece, putting it in a camp adjacent to 2001. I say adjacent because Denis and her shifting team of co-writers don’t always manage to keep their grip on the material. The scene with Binoche I described above is an ideal example: by itself, it is daring simply to have it in there, to go against perceived notions of sex, especially sex that women have. In the context of the film, it feels like Denis daring you not to turn it off or look away, while trying her damnedest to do something that will make you do just that. She is forcing the audience to call her bluff. She almost seems to apologize for being so far out in left field when, later in the film, Monte gets the cliche catharsis of beating a scumbag half to death. The movie flows from outrageously daring challenges to moments of mundane cinematic complacency, as if Denis wants to shock you but then immediately regrets it once you start out of the room. Sometimes, both types of sequence work in context; Monte’s funeral for the crew successfully drives the plot and the curiosity, all the way through an ending whose ambiguity is necessary and a little frustrating. Sometimes scenes work, stop working and work again while they are still happening. I was enthralled either way, and as always I would rather watch a messy-but-fascinating film than an orderly-but-boring one.

It is a bit odd coming from a devotee of Ray Bradbury, but there may be nothing I hate more in science fiction that the overly optimistic, risk-and-lesson-free pop of things like Chris Nolan’s Interstellar or Ridley Scott’s The Martian. They left my mind as soon as I left the theatre. The old masters wrote hopeful stories of the future tinged with inevitable, creeping horror; a thing like The Martian Chronicles would be poorly received today, people throwing the book down in disgust at the morally complex ending. What a terrible, tragic waste of a genre mainstream science fiction has become, a world in which we learn no lessons nor much of anything else. Whatever bits of Denis’ work here don’t, well, work, the reality is that she has made a movie that will live in my head, warts and all, for years to come. Now to get to the rest of that queue.

Verdict: Highly Recommended

Note: I don’t use stars, but here are my possible verdicts.

Must-See

Highly Recommended

Recommended

Average

Not Recommended

Avoid like the Plague

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#robert pattinson #Juliette Binoche #claire denis #science fiction #movies #high life #mia goth #andre benjamin #agata buzek #lars eidinger #batman #good times #the rover

[glitterdreamsz]

Scandalous (part 4)

Roger Taylor x Reader

Summary: Reader is an emerging actress who met Roger at a premiere of one of her movies. They immediately clicked and now they have been in a relationship for almost a year. There’s only one big problem: the reader isn’t the only woman in Roger’s life. In fact, he is married and has a child. That makes them keep their relationship a secret to the world. In the series, I imagined Roger to be 32 years old while the reader would be 27. A/N: And here it is, late as always, the new chapter! English isn’t my first language so I’m sorry for any mistake. Hope you like it and don’t be afraid to let me know what you think!Have a nice day xx Warnings: mention of sex, be ready to get your hearts broken. Words: 2.6k

Call your girlfriend It's time you had the talk Give your reasons Say it's not her fault But you just met somebody new Don't you tell her how I give you something that you never even knew you missed Don't you even try and explain how it's so different when we kiss Call your girlfriend It's time you had the talk Give your reasons Say it's not her fault But you just met somebody new And now it's gonna be me and you(x)

You sighed in relief when you heard some knocks at your door “Finally you’re here” you said opening and seeing Roger standing outside. “I need you to sit on my luggage so I can close it” you kept telling him while walking back to your bedroom. “Well, hi, it’s really nice to see you too” he chuckled softly while following you, you stopped and turned around smiling. “Sorry” you pecked his lips “Good morning love.” “Did you left something in your wardrobe?” Roger asked scratching the back of his neck. “Oh, I really want to see how many luggage you have with you” “But I’m going on tour” he said sitting on your suitcase. “And I’m coming with you, I need a different outfit for any concert” you chuckled and started to zip the suitcase. “So, how are you?” You both knew your question was to know how things have been between him and his wife. “Good.” That was the only thing he was able to say and, as silence started to fall between you, he spoke again “We’d better leave before we will late for the flight.” You nodded and got up from the ground. As Roger helped you taking your luggage you both walked inside the elevator, you were softly humming, your back laid against the elevator wall when you saw Roger looking at you and smiling at you. “What’s that smile for?” you chuckled. “I’m happy.”

-------- You sat down on one of the seat as Roger got in the one next to you “I would propose a toast” Freddie said standing up and gave each of the members a glass, filling it with champagne “To (Y/N), who is joining us on tour for the first time and that joined the Queen plane for the first time. Welcome on board love” he grinned lifting his glass. You smiled softly sipping from your glass but you felt uncomfortable, for the first time you felt out of place. One hour and many glasses of champagne later Roger’s hand couldn’t stop roaming your tight. “I’m bored” he murmured. “We can play scrabble” you looked at him and he shook his head “You could help me with my crosswords” you suggested. “What about if you join the mile high club?” he whispered in your ear, you looked around, Brian was reading a book, John was sleeping and Freddie was browsing some magazines. “We can’t Roger” you whispered back “Oh come on” he groaned as his hand on your tight moved upper. “Roger skipped some turns, so it would be fair for him to get in the club today” Freddie not leaving his eyes from the magazines, of course, he would be listening to you two. “Turns?” you frowned looking at Roger. “Do you really think he’s the only one who enjoys it? We rotate, and this is Roger’s turn.” Freddie explained. “This is disgusting.” You stated. “You’ll love it.” The drummer said getting up from his seat and holding his hand out for you. “I can’t believe I’m actually doing it” you shook your head following him to the small toilet. As soon as the door behind you was locked Roger’s lips were on yours and his hands under your dress. As he tightened on your hips he lift you making you sit by the sink, you left some open-mouthed kisses down his neck, you were already turned on by all his lust. He pulled away lightly from you as he started to open his belt, you wanted to lift your dress up to your ankles but as you moved to make it go past your bottom you slipped from the sink. Roger’s arm held you from your waist, preventing you from falling on the ground and you couldn’t help but laugh from the scene, he holding you as his jeans were town to his ankles, your dress pulled up and your hands gripped on the sink to hold you up. “I must admit it was pretty uncomfortable up there” you chuckled looking up at the blonde who shook his head while smiling. “Let’s try like this” he made you turn around, your back was against his chest, your hands on the sink as you bent as much as the small place let you, you had to bit your lip not to laugh again at the less agility you showed before, “I imagined it to be sexier” you joked. “Oh shut up” Roger laughed against your skin as he kissed you down the back of your neck.

“Welcome to the club darling” Freddie chuckled as you got your way back to your seat and in the corner of your eye you could see that Brian was smirking while he kept reading his science book. “Can we please stop talking about this?”

------- You saw Roger walking towards you as he got off the stage, locks of his hair were stuck on his forehead, he was wearing no t-shirt and you could see his skin glimmer under the light. Once he finally got backstage to you his arms wrapped around your waist as he slightly lifted you up from the ground. His lips found yours in a quick kiss and you pulled away, afraid that someone could see you. “So, how was the show?” he asked smiling still holding you close to him. “Amazing, as always” your feet touched the ground again and you looked around hoping that no one saw that scene, Roger held your hand guiding you to his dressing room. “Does it mean that I’m getting a reward?” he asked closing the door behind him. “Oh no sir, you already played your card this morning on the plane. No more sex in a bathroom for today.” You said grinning as you sat down on the couch. “And who said it has to be in the bathroom, we have the whole dressing room for ourselves.” He got dangerously closer making your noses touch “You can’t tell me to contain myself when you’re wearing that dress” You exactly knew what you were doing by wearing that red dress which showed enough of your skin to make the drummer fantasize about you, you knew the reaction you would have got, that’s why you decided to wear it. “You’re all sweaty and sticky, I don’t think I want to ruin this dress in this way” you joked looking at him and Roger shook his head sighing “You are causing the death of a man, just know it”. “The night is still young darling” you pecked softly his lips “Now go freshen up we have a party waiting for us.” The party venue was close to the concert arena so, instead of taking the car, you both decided that you could walk there, “Are the guys already here?” You asked as you approached the entrance. “Hmmh” Roger mumbled, luckily you wouldn’t have been left alone as Roger would have to go to talk with other people. You always tried not to make it obvious that you two came together, at times he went there first and you walked in some minutes later, other times you would go straight to Freddie and he would talk with some friends, you never got too close when you were talking with people, no touching, just some looks now and then. That’s why you were taken out of guards when Roger decided to hold your hand at the hall not leaving it as you walked in. “Rog, people can see us” you tried to let go of him but his grip didn’t let you. “I don’t care, don’t worry about it.” You couldn’t help but feel a knot on your stomach and Roger could tell you were tense and he rubbed his thumb against the back of your hand hoping to make you feel better “Most of the people here are already drunk, they won’t realise anything.” You just nodded and walked side by side with him towards the other band members “Look who decided to show up” Freddie said almost screaming catching the attention of other people who turned to look at you, you quickly took your hand off from Roger who this time wasn’t quick enough to keep it. “Do you want something to drink?” the music was loud and he had to get closer to you so that you could hear him. You just nodded biting your lip and moved closer to Freddie. “The show was great guys, I think one of your best so far.” They smiled nodding “Yes, I think that tonight we had the right amount of energy” Brian agreed. “Also the fact that it was the first gig, a fresh start, counts a lot.” John added. “Here your drink love” Roger came back holding two beers in his hands and you took one of them. He sat down on one of the stools listening to what the guys had to say about the concert and the ones that had to come, then you felt his hand on your waist as he pulled you between his legs making your back lay against his chest, his chin laid on your shoulder as he held you close to him, your muscles tensed again. “Relax” he whispered in your ear as his hands caressed your hips. Your hands travelled to his ones laying above them intertwining your fingers, you really wanted to loosen up but your brain seemed to be against your willings. “Do you want to go out for a smoke?” Roger asked feeling that you were still uncomfortable. You just nodded and followed him to the back of the building. “So” he said taking his pack of cigarettes handing you one of them. “What’s wrong?” he asked laying his back against the wall while lighting up his cigarette and handing you the lighter after that. “Rog, we were in a room filled with people and you kept acting as we were together.” “But we are together” he shrugged and you looked at him with a disapproval look “You know what I meant.” “And I told you that no one would care, who cares with who I am?” “Then why back home you never acted this way?” “Because there are people I know and that knows Dominique and they could go and tell her.” You stayed quiet and looked at the ground while puffing some smoke out of your mouth. Sighing softly Roger laid his hands on your hips and pulled you closer to him. “Do you want to go back to the hotel room?” you nodded and he kissed softly the tip of your nose causing you to smile. “I’ll call the driver.” --- As you step into the hotel room you let out the breath you didn’t even realise you were holding. Two arms wrapped around you and finally, your whole body relaxed against Roger’s one, your eyes closed as his nose rubbed against the crook of your neck. “I love you” he whispered leaving kisses down your shoulder which was covered only by the dress strap. You didn’t reply lost in his touch and in the thoughts about the eventful night that still ran your mind. His hands then moved to the zip on your back as his lips left kisses on every inch of your skin that had been revealed from the dress. Your fingers went to your shoulders pushing the shoulder straps down to your arms. Only when the dress fell down, revealing your naked chest, you turned around facing Roger, your hands on both of his cheeks as you kissed him deeply, with a kissed filled with love. When both of you were left wearing only your underwear he motioned you to jump lightly so that he could lift you up, with your legs wrapped around his waist and holding you close he moved on the bed sitting on the edge of it. You looked down at him pulling a strand of his hair away from his forehead “I love you too” you whispered as you looked him in his blue eyes. He smiled widely pulling you down with him and you stood there just looking at each other, not saying a word, for minutes. You didn’t need words, you could feel his heart beating for you against your chest “Don’t ever leave me” You whispered in his ear, because you realised at that moment that you couldn’t bear to lose him, to live without him. You wanted him to be only yours more than ever and for the first time you didn’t think that he had a wife back home, for the first time that night he made you feel like you were the only one in his life. He made you understand that he was feeling the same thing by the way he made love to you that night, his fingers intertwined to yours never left your hands, and if they did it was to run through your hair. His eyes were always on you, his forehead always against yours or hidden on the crook of your neck. He kept repeating how much he loved you with each slow thrust into you and you did the same with your hands on his back to hold him as close as possible to you. His face against his chest, your hands through his hair and you moaned each other’s name in unison as you both came undone at the same time. You were laid side by side, your arm over his waist as his arm was wrapped around your shoulder. Roger looked down at you as you were drawing some circles with your fingertips on his chest, his fingers were stroking your arm while his lips were against your head which laid on his chest. “Marry me.” It was a whisper, but you heard it. You looked up at him meeting his ocean eyes “Did you hit your head somewhere?” you asked chuckling but he shook his head. “I’m serious (Y/N), marry me.” “You can’t ask me such a thing while you’re still married to another woman” you sighed softly. “After that I will break up with her, marry me” he never stopped looking at you but you had to look away, you couldn’t reply to him because you knew that him leaving his wife was still an uncertain thing. “Promise me you will always be mine” and you looked back up at him, hope in his eyes, and you whispered “I promise.” ----- The following day you were woken up late in the morning by someone banging repeatedly against your door “Rog open this fucking door” You both groaned hearing Freddie’s voice. Roger got up from the bed and put on his boxers after going to the room door. “What do you want Fred?” “You are in deep shit mate” and then there was silence. The drummer walked back to your bed, a newspaper in his hand and he gave it to you. Hesitantly you took it from him and read the front page “Roger Taylor all cosied up with TV actress (Y/N). Wasn’t he married?” Under the big title, there were photos of you Roger talking and the one where he kissed your nose “People attending the party said that the two had been really close at the venue, holding hands and cuddling all the time.” Then the phone rang and you looked at Roger, he stood still for a few seconds before picking it up. “Hello?” silence as he listened to the person on the other line. “Hi Dominique.”

Taglist: if you want to be tagged write me an ask, comments on the post or dm won’t be considered. sorry, but it’s easier for me in that way @closertothesunwhenimwithyou @thewinchesterchronicles @borhapqueen92 @rogerfxckingtaylor @richiethotzierz @sleepretreat @stephrivno99 @starryoddity @discodeakyy @dccomicnerd-world @whatismylifeman @rxchel1999 @dreamer7black @ziggysstarrdust @yourealegendroger @alien-alibii @nataliekilla @killerrogerina @crying-over-bucky @magicwithaknife @llaroztac @cosmiclunas @justonks @fuckinghurricanesoul @yessiyo @butterfliesflewaway @ange-must-die

#roger taylor #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor fluff #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor smut #ben hardy #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy fluff #ben hardyxreader #roger taylorxreader #roger! ben hardy #roger!ben hardy #Queen #queen x reader #queen imagine #scandalous series