Sorry it’s so short! Just wanted a reason to use this audio 💜☺️
New content coming. Hopefully there were be a video or someone can screen record it!
He probably has a cleaner, or does what I do and hide everything behind the computer so no one can see 🤣🤣 but OMG domestic CE 😍
I picture him dancing and singing to tunes while mopping… CAN YOU IMAGINE?!?
•GQ Magazine 2011•
every single godforsaken day this man has me distracted.
Ransom Drysdale is the last person anyone would suspect to be a doting father. But when a paternity test reveals his relation to four year old Georgia Pine, the man finds himself turning into quite the softie for the peculiar little girl who’s been in such desperate need of his love and care.
Warnings: mature themes related to child abuse/neglect, ptsd/trauma symptoms in a child (developmental discrepancies, de-humanized behavior, detachment, extreme fears). loss(mother) and gain(father) of custody. unknown/secret child trope. soft!ransom, soft!dad!ransom. lots of hurt/comfort.
[Steve has the team working out but only Tony’s lying on the mat, unmoving]
Steve: Tony, how do you feel?
Tony: Like throwing up.
for some reason i’m still hung up on the fact that chris evans is a pescatarian. like i wouldn’t of guessed it
Mark always kills it!
Tbh. Now that election is over I’ve lost interest watching these… think Chris has too. (Just doing it while he has nothing else to do and to keep attracting people to the site)
I prefer waiting for the gif and pics and then just stare at him lol
He should tweet to kleenex like he did chapstick so they can send him some 🤣🤣🤣
“Anything that can go wrong will go wrong” (High School AU)
Pairing: Tony Stark x Fem!Reader BestFriend! Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader
Summary: Past. Murph’s return to Seaville and reunion with her friends.
Warnings: Silly arguments.
Word count: 3180
A/N: This is an Alternative Universe, so you can find invented characters and it can change the personality of some of the marvel characters / Sorry for my spelling and grammatical mistakes, English is not my native language, I am learning.
It would have been enough to say that this was another ordinary Christmas in the small town of Seaville, but it was not. The Christmas lights were brighter, the streets were more beautiful under the clear splendour of the moon, and the wind brought a sweet smell of sea salts that made it feel good. Murphy Lindon peeked out of the co-pilot’s window, letting the east wind envelop her and welcome her home again. Seaville was welcoming her in its entirety and she was letting herself go.
It had been just four months since she had left the coast of Maine to go and fulfill one of her many dreams, to spend a trimester in the French city of Paris. Nothing in her life could have compared to that unique experience, and she even hoped to return next year having been accepted into the University of Paris, but, likewise, nothing could compare to the love she felt for her home.
“Murph, roll up the window,” insisted his father. “I don’t want you to have the flu all through Christmas holiday.”
And of course nothing could compare with his beloved father.
When they turned the corner of her small residential area she could almost smell the sweet smell of hot chocolate and clouds that her father had promised her when he picked her up from the airport. She got out of the car so quickly that she barely paid attention to the set of bags her father was trying to get out of the boot without any help.
As she had predicted just by turning the lock and opening the door, the smell of cocoa flooded the whole house. She allowed herself a few seconds to contemplate the panorama, the lit fireplace adorned with the three corresponding Christmas stockings, the Christmas tree in place, without the star on its tip, as that was her task, and the coats sorted on the hanger by colour. Everything was the same as always.
“Don’t worry, I can manage on my own!,” her father said breathlessly as he climbed the steps of the porch.
Murph laughed and picked up one of the three suitcases that prevented her father from moving forward. They both closed the door behind them and went to the kitchen as if it were a tradition. The chocolate was still hot and the clouds had dissolved, just as she liked them. The conversation with her father went on for so long explaining everything she had not wanted to tell on the phone, or through letters, a method her father had forced her to maintain. We should mention that his job was as a literary writer, although he sometimes resorted to writing a few newspaper columns to make some extra money.
The point is that the small Linden family had been talking non-stop for hours, not realizing that midnight had already passed, and tomorrow Murph had to go to the high school to settle bureaucratic issues due to his return.
“Bonne nuit, chérie,” said his father in a chaste French accent, kissing his forehead.
“Bonne nuit, papa,” Murph smiled back.
His room, which he had not yet had the pleasure of entering, was still the same as usual, except that his father had changed the bedspread so that he could sleep warmer. Murph fell on his back to her, but as a memory came over him he quickly got up to head for the window. What his eyes beheld brought her a laugh and a sense of relief and happiness - how could he not have noticed it earlier?
By chance in life, she was lucky enough to have discovered true friendship in the person who lived right across from her. When she and her father moved to Seaville, due to the death of her mother 10 years ago, they chose that quiet residential area to settle down and start a small family. Murphy met Steve Rogers on her first day of second grade school, and since discovering that they lived across the street from each other, a beautiful friendship has been forged.
Murph couldn’t take his eyes off the window of the house in front of her. A large piece of light blue cardboard covered the entire space and was decorated with capital letters “Bon retour! Obviously she had been constantly aware of Steve during his trimester away, long phone conversations and some photographs showing it, but during the return flight she was afraid that he had forgotten the day she was coming back, a rather stupid fear.
With the well-being that this gesture had brought her, she decided that it was time to go to bed and rest, because the next morning she was preparing for a long day.
The ray of sunshine fell ceaselessly on her face, the curtains could hardly prevent its power, she had assumed that she was not a good early riser, but that morning she woke up in a good mood, not even the strong smell of charred toast was going to take it away.
"Wow! Nice smile,” her father notified her by offering her a plate with two pieces of blackened toast and raspberry jam.
“Thank you!” she picked up the plate and took her usual seat. “I’m looking forward to seeing Steve, and catching up with Natasha. I hope they have some things to tell me too, though. What are you doing today?
"I have to finish the chapter of the book to give it to the publisher,” he sat down next to her. “And I also have to go to the mall to pick up a gift.”
Murph’s smile widened, there were only two days left until Christmas, so it was clear that the gift she had to collect would be for her. Murph, although she had everything planned, and brought some gifts from Paris, still had to buy the last detail for her father.
At that moment the bell on the front door rang, and she realized that time had run out for her when she noticed that she was still in her pajamas.
“Shit!” she exclaimed as she took her last bite of the toast and climbed up the stairs. “I’ll be down in five minutes!”
Just as she disappeared, her father went to receive her visit. She could hear Steve’s voice as she hurriedly dressed, combed her hair and prepared her backpack for class, not forgetting to take two rolls of photographic film to be developed. When she heard his laugh she couldn’t help but laugh too, even if she had hardly heard the reason for her action. She hurried down and from the third step she practically pounced on Steve with laughter.
“Have you grown? Not possible, let me see you,” Steve scoffed at being punched in the shoulder by his friend.
“Hey, nice cartel,” Murph arched an eyebrow pointing at his house.
“You think so?“ her friend asked. "I’m glad you liked it. I spent three cards until I was proud of my work. ”
Steve’s sincerity did nothing but increase the appreciation of the small detail he had had with her. But time was passing by and they still hadn’t left the house.
"Come on, guys! You’re going to be late for class,” her father reported, offering Murph her bag lunch.
She caught it kissing her father on the cheek and running after Steve, who was waiting for her by his bike in the garden. Murph couldn’t keep a smile off her face and Steve couldn’t take his eyes off her.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she said, getting on her bike.
“You are very happy. It’s not normal to see that smile at eight o'clock in the morning” Steve’s comment made her laugh a little.
Both set off for the school, it used to take them ten minutes to get there by bike if they were going at a slow pace, but they still managed to catch up. On the way Steve became interested in the photographs that Murph had taken during his stay in the European city, she had sent him some of the ones she had had time to develop. Photography for Murph was a way of escaping, her mother had dedicated all the years of her life to this art, and perhaps it was an incentive for her to admire her.
“It’s different, Paris inspires me, it’s so romantic and bohemian that it’s very easy to get carried away,” she explains. “That doesn’t mean that Seaville isn’t, it’s… different.”
Steve listened carefully to each of her words, possibly one point they both had in common was sensitivity, which they only showed when they were both alone. It didn’t take long for them to realise that the school was close by, the amount of cars queuing at the entrance informed them of their arrival.
“Welcome back,” said Steve as he entered her through the front door.
Both headed for their locker area, Murph didn’t know why she expected anything to have changed, but everything, literally everything, remained the same.
“You go again! Have you been deported?” that voice, which she had not missed, made her roll her eyes. “I had hoped that you would have climbed the Eiffel Tower and let yourself go down. But here you are again.”
“I had hoped that one of your silly inventions would have exploded and you would have been blown to pieces with it,” Murph hit back with a sarcastic smile. “But not all dreams come true.”
"And I was hoping that being a senior in high school you could get along,” Steve interrupted. “But I see that’s impossible.”
A wide ironic smile on Tony’s face competed with Murph’s, who cut off her sleeves and he fought back by trying to bite her finger.
“Beautiful welcome Tony, only you know how to give a wonderful welcome” Natasha joined the group hugging Murph from behind who deposited a kiss on her cheek. "Wait, do I smell like Parisian perfume?”
Murph welcomed Nat, who was her ally in the fight against Tony, as Steve was, after all, a neutral axis in the battle. Nat shook Steve’s hand and when she went to greet Tony he tried to kiss her on the lips, for which she took a punch in the arm. The doorbell rang breaking the group depending on the subjects that each one of them had.
“See you later in the cafeteria and keep catching up,” Murph told Steve who was leaving on the other side with Tony.
Murph gave Steve a farewell smile, but her gaze crossed with Tony’s who gave her another wry smile, and she gave him back a look of hate that could have left him petrified.
"And we keep on catching up,” Nat repeated with a retintile eyebrow.¡
“I have many things to tell you, and I hope you will tell me too.”
"Everything depends on the gift you brought me from Paris.”
Murph laughed, and the two separated right in the administration offices, where Murph had a long morning getting things in order.
After two hours of filling out forms and making photocopies of the documents she brought from the institute in Paris, she had become an expert. She had hoped to have an hour off, before lunchtime, to escape to the developing room to have the photo film developed, but that seemed impossible. When the bell rang, she had scarcely had time to approach the room and put the film away in her wardrobe. She went to the cafeteria and found her lady friend sitting at a table, right next to the large window overlooking the football field.
“Where were you? I was waiting for you to start eating together, but this pizza was tempting me”
“If I tell you that I’ve been reading nonsensical documents all morning…” snorted Murph sitting across from her and pulling out her sandwich. “If I find out, I’m not going to Paris.”
"Dramatic girl. You know that’s not true,” Nat arched an eyebrow and smiled at her.
“Well, I need an update,” Murph began by getting serious. “Has anything interesting happened in my absence? Anyone new?”
“New? No, anything interesting? No. This Seaville Murph, nothing happens here.”
“I’ll look on the bright side. At least I haven’t missed anything,” she shrugged.
“I think you could go away for ten years and when you came back everything would be the same.”
The girls, seeing Steve and Tony’s late arrival, who would surely have been entertained, so they began to eat.
"By the way, have you written the application for Brenau yet? The deadline is January 1st.”
"It’s practically finished,” Nat reported, “I’ll go over it during the holidays and send it.”
"Are you ready to go and live in Paris next year and drive the Parisians crazy?” Natasha winked at her. “You haven’t been hiding some film adventure from me all this time?”
“Oh… well, now that you mention it…” Murph lowered his voice and continued her ironic game just as Tony and Steve were making their appearance. “As I was strolling through the Luxembourg Gardens that first night I heard a sweet melody in the background and I walked towards it. There was a man playing the saxophone and I stopped to listen to him for a couple of minutes. I was so absorbed that I hardly noticed that a boy had stood right next to me until he said "Ne pensez-vous pas que Paris a un charme particulier?” Then I looked at him, he had the prettiest green eyes I’d ever seen,“ Murph stopped her story to make a false sigh. "Then we walked until late at night, and met every afternoon to show me the most beautiful corners of the city. I think they were the most romantic months of my life.
Three pairs of eyes stared at her showing completely different feelings. Natasha, who was sitting in front of her, was holding her laughter, Steve, who was standing holding his tray next to Tony, seemed completely confused by what had just happened and Tony raised an eyebrow, somewhat curious about the story.
At this point none of the girls could keep their composure and began to laugh.
"What was that?” asked Steve sitting next to Murph. Is that true?
“Come on! She’ s pulling your leg,” reported Tony standing next to Nat.
“Wait, how can you be so sure that my story isn’t true? Couldn’t I have my romantic story with a Parisian?
"Was he blind?”
Murph squinted, just as Tony had a start after being stepped on by Nat under the table. The change in conversation made it easier to keep the discussion going, but there was always something going on to spoil civilized conversations. Tony was having a hard fight in front of the ketchup envelope which he could not open to spread on his burger, such was his desperation that when he took a bite, the envelope broke causing the sauce to hit Murph’s dress. Nat’s eyes along with Steve’s opened wide waiting for the contest between the two.
“You’re an idiot, Stark!” Murph took a couple of napkins that Nat offered her so she could quickly remove the sauce.
“At least it matches your dress,” he intervened with a broad smile.
Murph went to the food bar with the intention that some of the cooks had some of their magic ideas to make the stain go away. Tony followed her without letting go of his burger, although Steve and Nat advised him to stay quiet and sit down.
“Come on Murphy is barely different from the red fabric of the dress,” he said as he stood next to her, and knowing how much she hated being called that.
“How many times have I told you not to call me Murphy,” she said, rubbing the stain with soap and water.
“It’s your name,” he shrugged indifferently. “It’s not my fault your parents decided to name you.
Murph bit her tongue so as not to have to let go of all those things that were going through her mind, and put on a show in the middle of the cafeteria. She was lucky that at that moment someone appeared who diverted Tony’s attention.
"Ready for debate class, Stark?”
“Of course, Hammer. I can’t wait to see you try to put your limited vocabulary together in one sentence,” Tony took a bite of his burger.
“Come on Tony, you’ve got a lifetime to be an idiot, why don’t you take a day off,” urged Justin Hammer.
Murph couldn’t help but smile at the comment, which Tony noticed.
“Hammer, everyone has the right to act stupid for a while, but I’m not really the one who abuses that privilege,” Tony took another bite of his burger.
Justin Hammer had gotten what he wanted, and his success was based on a half smile as he left. Tony turned to face Murph, who dedicated a high eyebrow to him.
“Don’t you abuse that privilege?”
Murph’s smile faded just as Tony stuck his finger in his burger, and bathed it in the little ketchup rubbing it down Murph’s cheek.
“You’re disgusting,” she exclaimed, wiping her cheek.
“Thank you,” he said.
“Don’t thank me for the insult, it’s always a pleasure.”
The bell ended the lunch hour again. Tony walked over to the table and jumped on Steve’s back as Natasha and Murph picked up their things.
"Hey, what are you doing this afternoon? I thought we could all go to Barry’s and keep catching up,” she proposed to Natasha as they headed for the lockers.
“I have a dance class, and I guess it’s the last one before Christmas, so it’ll last until dinnertime.”
“Did someone say Barry’s?” Tony slowed down and intervened in the conversation.
“Sounds like a good idea to me,” said Steve. “Barry’s at 7pm?”
“Nat has a dance class.”
"Guys, I know I’m an exceptional piece, but you can go without me, don’t worry,” Natasha opened her locker.
“Okay, but tomorrow you have to accompany me yes or yes to the mall, I still have a gift for my father,” Murph leaned in front of her.
“That means you’ve already got mine,” Tony winked at Murph, who hated his sudden mood swings.
“Yes, a one-way ticket to the farthest place on earth.”
"You know you’d miss me.”
Skipping Tony, Murph added “So I’ll see you this afternoon at Barry’s, and it’s okay if you don’t show up there Stark.”
"Believe me, it’s the last thing I want to do, but where Steve goes, I go.”
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