#stony are my dads

[meidui]

pov your dads are not impressed

#stevetony #stony #st♡ny #steverogersedit #tonystarkedit #stevetonyedit #stonyedit #* #gross rosa those are our DADS #i mean captain dad is not my boss #WHATEVER I'M TEACHING FATHER THE MATH #myedit #mygif

[robertdowneyjjr]

hey, so. funny thing.

@whinysteve and i have been going insane for like two days because we couldn't find this one fic we really liked, and we both remembered reading it not so long ago but somehow neither of us could recall how it ended? and we kept saying that it's so GOOD and how the heck did it just disappear? well, after hours of losing my mind going through my ao3 history, the steve/tony tag with various keywords, the findingstony blog... it. it hit me that i can't find it because it doesn't exist. because it was the soulmates au idea you posted like two weeks ago where their words only show up after they've met their soulmate.

i thought you might find this amusing. 😩 (i do, but i also need to lie down for a bit because i will never know how steve fixed that mess)

hahahaha omg liv if this is your way of peer pressuring me into writing the whole fic i might actually do it??? because your ask has got me thinking about what would happen next.

that said, steve still hasn't figured out how to fix this mess. i'm very sorry about this.

(stonyclunks soulmates au part one here)

---

having been rescued by SHIELD, news of steve's recovery was immediately delivered to howard stark who, while not as involved with SHIELD as he used to be, still receives weekly reports as one of its co-founders.

he'd gone home that night and brought it up in the middle of cutting his steak. coincidentally, tony had been visiting that day and stayed for dinner, so he found out about captain america's miraculous resurrection before the general public did, and honestly, he had enough of hearing about how great this guy was growing up. he really didn't need to keep hearing about it as an adult after he'd finally worked through his issues with his dad and his obsession with a (not quite) dead war hero.

so after howard's announcement, tony politely requested howard refrain from talking about this guy with him.

"i know he's your friend, and you'll probably be spending a bit of time with him now that he's been found, and i'm really happy for you, but i think it would be better for our relationship if we could talk about literally anything but him," he'd said.

and, well. howard was trying. he knew he wasn't the best dad and he also wanted to do right by maria, who spent so many years torn between her son and her husband while trying to mend their relationship. they were finally in a relatively good place with each other which made maria happy. and to be frank, howard had actually come to really enjoy tony's company whenever he was home. he was quite happy too. so he agreed. they don't talk about steve and howard doesn't ask tony to meet steve.

that very night, tony made sure 'captain america' and 'steve rogers' were muted in all his news feeds and social channels.

he literally doesn't know a single thing about the man besides what he learned in his childhood, which he's blocked out. it's a peaceful two years of blissful ignorance.

fast forward to now, tony's packing up his suitcase and getting ready to check out of his hotel when he sees a text from his mom in their family group chat.

seems he's not quite the perfect role model you always made him out to be, howard 🤡, her message reads.

what follows is a link to an instagram post, and from the message preview he can see that it's steve rogers' profile, and under normal circumstances he wouldn't even bother clicking the link.

but 1) maria usually never brings up the man in tony's presence either, and 2) her comment made him laugh. so color tony intrigued.

he taps the link and sees the post. it's a picture of a coffee cup from the place he was at a week ago. the one where he got body slammed by his mysterious dick of a soulmate and unfairly yelled at for it.

he reads the caption and his legs give out under him.

i don't even know if you'll see this, but all i can do is hope. i'm sorry for the words that have made their mark on you. i know i don't deserve it, but i'm hoping you could give me a second chance. i won't yell at you this time, i promise. yours, a fucking asshole

one week ago, captain america was barely even a blip on tony's radar and that's how he preferred it. now, steve rogers is tony's mysterious dick of a soulmate.

what the fuck even is his life.

#they have a lot to work through!! but they'll get there #also i'm determined to write good dad howard at least once in my life #i think tony deserves it in an au at the very least #anyway howard texts steve and he's like 'my wife thinks you're a dramatic bitch' #'good luck with whatever mess you've got yourself in lol drinks next week?' #steve who still hasn't received any DMs from his soulmate a week later follows howard home like a lost puppy #because he's sad and just wants to whine a bit longer #guess who they see getting out of the car with maria after a night at the opera 😃 #stevetony #stony #tony stark #steve rogers #stonyclunks soulmates au #kay writes things #soliloquent-stark #ask

[peteypiessuperfamily]

I woke up from a dream and was possessed to ask if anyone has read a fic where a teacher at Midtown is making passes/is in a "relationship" (im using that word lightly) with Peter or someone his age that he knows about and its eating him up inside so he breaks down and tells Tony and Tony is rightfully pissed and takes matters into his own hands (either through the school or through his gauntlets i dont care) because i want to read a fic like that so bad i just dont know how to look for it or if I have to write it myself

#ill roll up my sleeves and get to work if I have to #i havent read this myself btw i just wanna know if a fic like that exists #can you tell ive been watching pretty little liars #ive been watching pretty little liars #peter parker #tony stark #irondad #iron dad #protective tony stark #anti student x teacher #just wanna make that clear everyone #iron man #spiderman #spider man #ao3 #fanfic #do I tag this as stony target audience?? #or is that cheating

[geeky-writes]

Immovable Mountains - Art

This is an absolutely GORGEOUS fan art created by @zappedbysnow for my superfamily fic Immovable Mountains ♥️ 💙 ♥️ Thank you so much for such an incredible piece!! 💖

Fic written for @t0nystark1er for @marveltrumpshate 💙

#steve rogers #peter parker #tony stark #stony fanfiction #superfamily fanfiction #papa steve #iron dad and spider son #immovable mountains #army steve #kid peter #dad tony #geeky writes #fan art for my fic! #marvel fan art #superfamily fan art #stony fan art #thank you!! #zappedbysnow #this is so gorgeous!

[snazzyerin]

my interpretation of chapter 38 (mixed with the ending) for @capsicle13 ‘s ao3 story “need you”! this scene has been on my mind since i read it and i had to turn it into something visual. hope you like it! <3

#my art #marvel #spiderman #steve rogers #captain america #superfamily #stony #alternate universe #major character injury #iron dad #iron man #peter parker #steve x tony #mpreg

[stonyholic]

betting on forever

week 2

team marry | fill for the @stevetonygames bingo square “gambling”.

it’s an avengers tradition, really—their first dance, first hand-holding, first kiss, first time, proposal, and then wedding—you bet on it, and you watch as the team mom and dad fall in love with each other a little more with each milestone.

you feel deep contentment looking at the glass jar on the kitchen counter, full of coins and paper money that give no less meaning than the evidence of growing love in a world you only know as dark and unkind, and you smile.

#stevetony #stony #steve/tony #steve x tony #the stevetony games #my work #moodboard #it’s team mom and dad stevetony! 🥹 #and the avengers!

[tony-andonuts]

Another day of beach hopping and day drinking

#tony speaks #got a 12 pack this time tho #also took an edible my moms friend gave us after my dads funeral yesterday #stony tony

[lovebugism]

“we don’t like each other, but we’re at a mutual friend’s Christmas party and we keep getting caught under the mistletoe together”

eddie and r at steve’s christmas party!

ty for requestling lovie! pls enjoy xoxo — you and eddie, arch enemies since you met, share a kiss under the mistletoe thanks to your meddling friends (enemies to lovers, fluff, 2.2k)

blurbcember ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

Steve’s hand is warm on the small of your back as he leads you the long way to the kitchen. His too big house is glowing with life — with warm-colored Christmas lights and the laughter of your closest friends. It all makes your skin sparkle. Or maybe that’s just the alcohol.

You’re draining your cup of its contents, head tipped back to catch every drop of Steve’s dad’s expensive liquor. You let the boy lead you blindly for a refill until you notice that you’re further from the kitchen now than you were sitting with him on the couch.

“Where are we going?” you wonder with a hearty chuckle.

“To get you another drink!” he insists, playing innocent.

“Then why are we circling your living room?” 

He guides you around the French doors of the entrance and past the wooden staircase — where Max and Lucas dangle mistletoe from a string on the upper story. They bicker back and forth about exactly where to place it and forget to be discreet about any of it.

You’re about to walk past it and towards the kitchen, but Steve stops short before you can. Eddie exits the hallway just in front of you, seemingly led by none other than Dustin Henderson in an obviously concocted plan. 

This marks the second Christmas of your friends trying to get you and the freak to kiss.

It’ll also be the second Christmas that they fail.

“I can see you, you know?” you shout to the arguing teenagers.

The banter quietens all at once. 

Lucas shoots an awkward smile down at you, dressed in an itchy sweater and collared shirt that his mom obviously dressed him in. Max is much less apologetic. Her auburn braids sway on either side of her face as she leans over the railing, clutching at the lit-up garland with a bandaged hand.

“Can you just kiss and get it over with?” she pleads with all her practiced teenage desperation. “Lucas almost chopped my hand off cutting the fishing wire, and I need to know it was worth something.”

“Yeah, in your dreams, Mayfield,” Eddie scoffs, walking past you without a single glance your way. You wouldn’t know, though, because you weren’t looking at him either. You bypass the mistletoe and head the opposite way toward the kitchen. “Not a chance,” you murmur under your breath.

“I said I was sorry!” you hear Lucas exclaim as you go.

Max squints her stony blue eyes at him. “Yeah, ‘cause sorry’s gonna fix my hand, right?”

You pour your own drink while Steve lectures the kids about being distracted. He’s back a couple minutes later, wearing a dumb Christmas sweater and an even dumber grin. “Watcha doing?” he lilts slowly as he walks to stand at your side.

You lick beer from the side of your thumb after spilling a drop or more. “Separating myself from the plotting,” you answer, vague and somewhat ominous.

He furrows his brows and scoffs out a laugh. “What are you talking about?”

“Everyone’s trying to get me and Munson to kiss. It’s disgusting.”

“It’s just a joke,” he assures with a shrug, even though you both know it’s more than that. 

He could’ve used that excuse the year before — when he and Dustin were practically tripping over themselves to get you and Eddie in the same room and under the same mistletoe. Now it’s a competition. Now it’s real. 

They’re trying to prove to themselves that they can get you and Eddie to kiss more than they’re trying to prove that they’d been right about the two of you all along.

“Is that why you hid a mistletoe by the records?” you squint and raise your cup for another sip. 

You and Eddie have a history of fighting over what music gets played at parties. You’re notorious for it, actually. Even tonight, you argued about whether to play Christmas music or the regular stuff. That was before you noticed the ribboned plant hiding in the cabinet of records, of course. Then you walked away entirely.

That’s why you’re listening to Dio now instead of Nat King Cole.

“Robin did that, actually,” Steve tells you as he crosses his arms over his chest. “And it would’ve been genius if she actually hid the damn thing. It’s like I’m the only one taking this seriously!”

“Both of you are idiots. And creeps.”

“Do you wanna go smoke, or do you wanna keep calling me names?”

“Hm…” you hum and pretend to ponder his question. You purse your lips to the side and flit your eyes to the ceiling. “How about we go smoke and I keep calling you names.

He thinks for a second. Then nods. “Deal.”

Steve’s deck is as ornately decorated as the rest of his house. It glows yellow from the wreaths on the windows and the garland on the railing. The golden color is the only warm thing about being outside. The bitter breeze bites through the material of your sweater, pricking at your skin no matter how tightly you fold your arms around yourself.

You and Steve huddle together like penguins for warmth. He pulls out a little tin box from the back pocket of his jeans — there’s one joint left inside it. He passes it off to you, then pats at his sides with a frown between his brows. 

“Shit…” he huffs.

“What?” you ask, teeth chattering.

“I forget the damn lighter.”

You scoff. “Genius.”

He rushes back inside. The glass door slides open, basking you in a momentary warmth, before sliding shut again. 

You’re not alone for very long, though. He’s back far quicker than you expect. You hear the schlick of the opened door and feel the woosh of golden heat. When you look over your shoulder with a half-hearted complaint on the tip of your tongue, you realize that Steve isn’t back.

It’s Eddie fucking Munson.

“Oh, you gotta be shitting me,” you mumble under your breath.

His brows pinch together, dark eyes twinkling with confusion when he looks at you. “What the hell are you doing out here?”

“Wait— Don’t shut the door!”

“What are you talking about?” he laughs and shuts it anyway.

“No, don’t—” 

It’s too late. You rush to the glass and hear a faint click on the other side. You wrap your fingers around the cool handle and pull. It doesn’t budge. 

“Those assholes locked us out here,” you grouse — partly for Eddie, but mostly for the assholes in question locked inside.

Steve peeks through the blinds. You can only see his eyes, honeyed and sparkling with mischief. “Who’s the idiot now?” he teases. The big dumb grin is audible in his voice. You blink, and he’s gone again.

“He lured us… With weed…” Eddie murmurs. You can’t tell if he’s talking to you or himself. He nods with a small shrug. “That’s kinda genius, actually.”

“Except we can’t smoke it. ‘Cause we don’t have a lighter.”

Eddie’s face screws up in offense, chin jerking back like he’s flinching. He pulls a pale hand from the pocket of his leather jacket. The metal Zippo glimmers beneath the Christmas lights. “It’s like you don’t know me at all, sweetheart,” the wild-haired boy teases.

“I don’t,” you concur and snatch the lighter from his ringed fingers. “And I’d love to keep it that way.”

“You’re a real ray of sunshine, you know that?” he jokes, squinting at you with eyes made of chocolate and smiling with lips rosier than flower petals.

“Thanks for noticing,” you mumble through the joint. You hold your hand over the flame while you light it, taking a deep puff before passing it off to the boy beside you.

“At least we have a break from those psychos, right?” he jokes as he takes it from you.

Your laugh comes out in a white cloud. “Yeah. I’m pretty sure we’re, like, the only normal people here.”

“Yeah…”

“Don’t let that go to your head, though. You’re still a freak.”

“And you’re still a bitch,” he lilts with a grin, then passes the joint back to you — a makeshift peace offering.

“Don’t be mean to me—” you squint and snatch the blunt from his hand. The tone you use is a foreign one, coated with a hurt he can’t tell is real or in his head. His eyes go wide, anyway. An apology bubbles in his throat, but you beat him to the punch. “—It turns me on.”

“Oh,” he murmurs under his breath, heart thudding hard against his ribcage. “…Oh.”

Your lips curl into a smirk around the edge of the joint. The ash burns orange when you take a deep inhale and turns dark again when you pass it back.

His ringed fingers brush yours, and Eddie gets shy in a way he never really has before. Not with you, anyway. Your touch has him buzzing, gets him all awkward like a giddy teenage boy who’s never been around a girl before. 

He forces a laugh through a sparkling chest. “Now I don’t know if I should stop or keep going.”

A giggle sputters from your lips before you can stop it. You hadn’t meant for it to come out, of course — you were actually trying really hard to swallow it down. But it’s spilling from your smiling mouth like rays of golden sunshine in a navy blue winter, anyway.

Eddie couldn’t hide his amusement if he tried. The blunt burns, unhit, between his fingers, because he’s too busy looking at you.

“I don’t think I’ve ever made you laugh before,” he says, chuckling to himself while pride swells behind his ribcage. “Hell, I don’t think I’ve even made you smile before.”

“Don’t get used to it— I’m just tipsy.”

You reach over to snatch the burning stick from his hand, and he suddenly understands what you meant before — the whole don’t be mean to be, it turns me on thing that he’ll probably be thinking about for the next week or so. 

‘Cause you’re always rough with him. Rough and a little bit bitter. It bordered on hate, unrooted and visceral. Erotic. Maybe he liked teasing you so much because he liked it when you told him off. Maybe that’s why he can’t seem to leave you alone even now.

“I like you like this, though,” Eddie confesses, voice as soft as his melted-chocolate gaze. His eyes get all squishy around the edges when he looks at you now. It makes you cower because you’re not used to that — to liking it. 

He shrugs and sticks his fidgeting hands into his jacket pockets, trying hopelessly to play it cool. “Maybe we should, like, go get drinks together or something? So, you know, you can be nice to me and— halfway tolerate me or whatever.”

You get quiet, and he isn’t totally sure what to make of it. 

His flitting eyes (going halfway blind from staring at Steve’s Christmas lights instead of you) find your gaze again. You’re wearing a smirk he’s never seen on you before, barely there but still obvious. No one’s ever looked at him the way you are now — like the world could fall apart, but you’d never know it because he’s somehow more distracting.

You catch his button-eyed gaze and hold it until it hurts.

“In your dreams, Munson,” you singsong sweetly to him, lips like wine. It’s his words from earlier (ones he’s starting to regret right about now), but you say them with a wider and more sincere smile.

It feels almost like a promise.

A whistle sounds in the distance, coming from above you.

You and Eddie share confused glances before taking a single step forward. Max and Lucas are leaning over the balcony a story above you — with that damn mistletoe hanging from fishing wire. That means Dustin and Steve aren’t too far, either. Which means Robin’s probably up there, too. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Eddie squints up at them, chin tilted to reveal the pale expanse of his neck. You don’t know why you can’t stop looking at him. Maybe it’s the weed and the one beer you had, but you never thought a neck could be pretty until now.

“We’ve been here for a while, actually,” Max sasses in return.

Lucas concurs with a shoulder pressed intently against hers. “Yeah. My arm’s starting to get a little tired over here.”

You and Eddie huff and roll your eyes at the same time, so strangely synchronized. You’d both be similarly annoyed if your minds weren’t racing. ‘Cause it’s a tradition now — for all your friends to get you to kiss with storebought mistletoe — and it’s always tradition for them to fail.

It’s a record you and Eddie would like to break now, almost painfully so, but neither of you will humor the other by saying that out loud.

The boy beside you merely shrugs. His cheeks flush pink with an embarrassment he’d sooner blame on the cold. You can see it in his eyes, though — in the twinkle in the deep chocolate of them. His gaze is weirdly expressive in that way. He couldn’t hide anything from you if he tried.

“Should we…?” he trails off. 

He won’t let you know that he wants to — kiss you, that is — but he’s not gonna do anything you don’t want to do, either. He’s not a total asshole, just a stupid boy falling head over heels for a girl he thought he hated five minutes ago.

“Let’s just get it over with,” you huff in annoyance.

You say it begrudgingly — like tasting him with your suddenly longing lips is some kinda chore.

You kiss the breath from his lungs a second later.

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble #event: blurbcember

[cambion-companion]

Could you write something for Aemond being protective of his pregnant wife during the dinner scene in ep8? Like she gets caught up in the middle of the fight and Aemonds just having none of the Strong boys shit as they endanger his beloved

Hi my lovely Anons! These are all brilliant requests by the way, and thank you for reading my works!

Aemond x pregnant!reader | the dreaded family dinner | hurt reader | protective dad Aemond

You looked down to where Aemond knelt before you, his hands reverently holding the swell of your pregnant belly as your hands carded through his long hair.  He pressed his lips to where your child grew, looking up at you reverently with his lilac eye.  “You will be a wonderful mother, Y/N.”  He rose to kiss you, pouring adoration into the way his lips moved with yours, his tongue sweeping across your bottom lip.  You gasped softly as he deepened the embrace, his hands cupping your waist, pulling your round abdomen flush against him.

“Are you ready to go down to dinner?”  You murmured, your breath still mingling with his.

“Mm.”  Aemond breathed, his eye still half closed as he rested his forehead against yours. “I’d much rather spend the evening alone with you.”

“As would I.”  You kissed him once more before extricating yourself from his grasp. “However, your mother would not be pleased with either of us.”

“Indeed, she would not!”  Aemond chuckled, opening the door for you as you both exited your bedchambers.

Arm in arm, you walked together down the winding stone corridors, reaching the dining hall just as Aegon joined you.  “Ready to break bread with the wolves, brother?”  Aegon rolled his eyes, pushing open the oaken doors.

Aemond didn’t answer, though his arm around you tightened slightly.  Alicent and Rhaenyra were already sitting at the long table, carefully avoiding each other’s gazes.  Jacaerys and Lucerys glanced over from their corner of the room, looking over you, Aemond and Aegon as you entered.  You noticed Jacaerys’ eyes drop to take in the curve of your belly, a sneer flitting across his features as he looked at Aemond beside you.  You held Aemond’s arm a little tighter as he guided you to your seats.  You sat, taking the weight off your tired feet, Helaena to your immediate right and Aemond sitting at the end of the table to your left.  

You could tell how tense your husband was, your attention thoroughly distracted from the light conversation around the table.  Aemond’s gaze was hard, flitting between Jacaerys and Lucerys who were studiously avoiding his intent eye.  You started slightly in your seat as King Viserys began speaking loudly, his breathing ragged as he urged his family to set aside their differences and try to start anew.  Your gaze flitted to where Aemond studied his plate, his long fingers tapping next to where his goblet sat.

A round of toasts began, starting with Rhaenyra and slowly moving around the table.  You didn’t hear what Aegon murmured to Jace, but it was enough to cause the boy to slam his fists upon the table, rising to his feet in anger.  Beside you, Aemond slowly got to his own feet, eyeing his nephew as though daring him to continue.  Jace hesitated a moment, his gaze flicking briefly to your own face before he raised his own goblet in a toast to his uncles. Aemond shared a glance with you as he returned to his seat, you quirked an eyebrow, but he shook his head slightly.

Lilting music began to fill the room, servants bearing food and drink hurried to service the nobles as you all began eating and chatting.  You turned to engage Helaena in conversation just as Jacaerys asked her to dance with him.  Aegon watched them depart for the middle of the room, hand in hand, before turning to share a bemused look with Aemond.  Your husband shifted in his seat, the better to keep an eye on Jace, his face set in a stony expression.  You rubbed your stomach absent-mindedly, stirring the soup before you while deep in thought.  

“Excuse me a moment.”  You stood, gathering your skirts as you made your way passed Aemond, touching his shoulder lightly as you went, walking down the steps toward the privy.  

After washing your hands in the water basin, you slowly ascended the stairs back into the dining room only to see your husband standing at the end of the table, his goblet held aloft. “Come, let us drain our cups to these three strong boys.”

“I dare you to say that again.”  Jace said from where he stood next to a confused Helaena.  

“Why?  It was only a compliment.”  He moved around the corner of the table to meet Jace as he advanced. “Do you not think yourself strong?”

You moved quicker than you thought possible in your heavily pregnant state, seeing the unfolding of events before they happened.  Jace swung a heavy punch toward the scarred side of Aemond’s face. “No!” You shouted, interjecting yourself between the two men just in time to block Jace’s blow with your forearm, the force of it knocking you back against Aemond’s chest.

You used your other hand to try and push Jace away, but the boy grabbed your wrist roughly, yanking you forward with such force you audibly gasped in pain.  

“Jace!”  Rhaenyra yelled.

“Aegon!”  Alicent scolded as her eldest slammed Lucerys into the table.  

The momentum of Jace’s pull as he tried to get you out of his way caught you off-guard, your arms unable to catch your body as you tripped, landing heavily upon the stone floor.  Deathly silence fell in the room, everyone seemed to be collectively holding their breath, watching as you kept still, assessing the damage.

“Aemond, no!”  It was Alicent’s voice again, sounding more scared than angry.  

You looked around from where you’d propped yourself up on your hands, seeing your husband with his hand at Jace’s throat, pinning him to the wall, a thin dagger at the boy’s throat.

“Aemond!”  Alicent cried again, rushing to your side instead of trying to get her son off Jacaerys.  She looked you over, worry etched into her face.

“You think to injure my wife.”  Aemond seethed, his voice a deadly hiss. “To manhandle her when she is so vulnerable.”  

“Aemond…”  You spoke soothingly as Alicent helped you back to your feet. You glanced with worry to where Daemon was making careful progress toward your husband. “I’m alright.  Aemond, let him go.  I need your help.”

He released Jacaerys at once, the boy almost losing his footing as Aemond turned to you.  Your husband was quickly at your side, supporting your back with one hand while his hand worriedly stroked at your abdomen.  His violet eye roved your face. “Are you injured?  Is-is our child…?”  

“I’m alright. Please, let’s just go.”  You said again, shooting Alicent a grateful look as Aemond helped guide you from the dining hall.  She watched the two of you go, her face a mask of worry and sadness.

“I could kill him.”  Aemond spoke, his voice a growl from where he walked beside you, his hands still supporting half your weight.

“Somehow, I don’t think that’d go over well.”  You tried to make light of the situation, but Aemond wasn’t having it.

“If he so much as looks at you again, I will feed him to Vhagar after I finish with him.”

The anger in his voice was palpable, your own skin prickled with it.  You turned to him, halting your progress down the corridor, taking his tense face in your hands.

“I am uninjured, my love.”  You kissed the corner of his mouth, smiling as he moved his head into your touch. “Our child is still whole.  There is no danger.”

He caressed your hair, his gaze gentle upon your face.  His hands traced the curves of your body, holding the swell of where your child grew within you.  “If anything happened to you… I would be lost.”

You kissed him, the two of your clinging to each other, the adrenaline wearing off, leaving you exhausted but relieved your little family was safe from harm.

#aemond fluff #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x you #aemond x reader #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond one eye x reader #hotd aemond x reader #prince aemond x reader #hotd x reader #aemond imagine #aemond drabblle #aemond one shot #aemond fanfic #aemond fic #aemond stannies #pro aemond targaryen #aemond angst #aemond one eye #prince aemond targaryen #house of the dragon aemond #hotd aemond

[upsidedownwithsteve]

What about simmer Eddie reacting to a customer being rude to reader and making her cry?

Eddie was out of the kitchen before you even had time to respond.

Watery eyes and with heated cheeks, you stared at the angry customer, a man old enough to be your dad, ruddy cheeked and yelling at you for the sake of getting his order mixed up with the booth across from his.

Sorry, you’d fumbled. It’s been so busy today, you’d explained.

But your apologies weren’t good enough and when the customer mistook your silence for weakness, he charged, slamming his glass onto the tabletop so soda spilled over, his eyes blazing and set on you.

“Well, that’s not fucking good enough, is it?” He roared and then he smiled without any niceness behind it, sneering, smirking at your trembling lip.

The diner was silent. Everyone was staring. You didn’t know what to say.

But then the kitchen door was bouncing off of the wall and Eddie was storming out, curls flying as he tore of his apron and shoved in on the coffee bar as he passed. He rolled up the sleeves on his chef jacket, tattoos bared, lines of muscles between ink that suddenly made him seem much more menacing that you’d ever given him credit for.

His eyes flashed as he approached, staring at the customer with so much heat that you shrank a little.

“Is there a problem here?” He asked and his voice was stony, cold. He stared down at the man and his messy table, his spilled cup, his dissected plate.

“Yes, actually,” the man snarked, looking triumphant. He shot you a poisonous look. “This stupid girl here—“

“Is it enough of a problem that you feel justified speaking to wait staff like that?” Eddie interrupted, nostrils flaring. He stood close, one hand on the small of your back, fingertips brushing your spine, a comfort. “Or are you just a fuckin’ asshole no matter the situation?”

The customers jaw dropped and he glared at Eddie, blood rushing to his cheeks in anger. “I want to speak to the manager, right now.”

Eddie grinned, saccharine sweet, all faux niceness and he tilted his head as he replied. “Well, it’s your lucky day, bud.” He clasped a hand to his chest. “I am the fuckin’ manager. Now apologise and get out my diner.”

The man stared. You grew as he shrunk, your shoulders squared, your eyes less glassy.

“What?”

Eddie scoffed, all bravado and sarcasm, his forearms flexing as he crossed them and waited. “Did I stutter? Say sorry to your lovely waitress for talkin’ to her like that and leave. Before my friends and I make you.”

Steve and Argyle appeared a few tables behind you and the man clocked them over Eddie’s shoulder. Steve waved, a wry smile on his face as Argyle flipped the rolling pin he held in a fist.

Eddie’s Slice of Chicago was known for their pies, their pizzas and their shakes. Not their manners.

But you got your sorry and when the man left, Eddie perched you on a kitchen counter and made you a bowl of mac and cheese for your tears.

#Eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #Eddie munson x you #Eddie munson x y/n #Eddie munson fic #Eddie munson fanfic #Eddie munson fanfiction #Eddie munson fluff #Eddie munson imagine #Eddie munson drabble #Eddie munson oneshot #Eddie baby blurb #simmer blurb #linecook!eddie

[reiding-writing]

hey!!! i have a request for a fluff fic. it's based off of the episode "double babysitter" from bluey (you dont have to watch it but u can for inspo!) where hotch/jj accidentally invites both you and spencer to babysit their kid(s) and you and spencer bond over babysitting. i just love domestic!spencer. preferably fem or gn reader, but everything else is up to you :)

DOUBLE BOOKED [ONESHOT]

/ˈdʌbəɫ bʊkt/

Hotch was finally getting back into the dating scene after some convincing from you and Garcia, that meant he needed a babysitter for Jack. Hotch had asked you himself, whilst Garcia, under the impression that Hotch hadn’t thought that far ahead, asked Spencer. Looks like Jack had two sitters for the evening.

WARNINGS: n/a

spencer reid x gn!reader || fluff || 2.7k || masterlist!!

a/n: so i didn't have the time to watch the episode beforehand (sorry) so i kinda just went with the flow for this one, hope you enjoy :)

Hotch was finally taking a break, and to go on a date no less.

It took you and Garcia almost three days of constant hounding before he agreed, and even after he did he kept bringing up excuses as to why he wouldn’t be able to make it.

He had files to finish, he had meetings to attend, he didn’t have a babysitter for Jack, they might be called into a case.

Anything that could possibly be used as a way to get out of going to this dinner was spewed out of Hotch’s mouth at some point or other, but it didn’t have any hold against Garcia’s persistence for him getting back out in the dating game and your persistence for him to get out of the office for an evening.

You’d recruited almost everyone in the office to help clear absolutely everything on Hotch’s schedule to ensure that his date would proceed unhindered.

Your job was one of the most hands-on.

“Hey little man,” You give Jack a smile as he opens the door to the Hotchner residence at your knocking, a smile that he enthusiastically returns with a small wave.

“Jack, what’ve I told you about opening the door to strangers?” Hotch round the corner almost immediately as the door clicks open.

“But-“

“Wow.” You interrupt Jack’s explanation with a wide-eyed expression at Hotch’s appearance.“Are you going to a date or a funeral?”

He forgets about scolding Jack for a second. “I look perfectly fine,” He furrows his eyebrows slightly.

“You look like someone’s just died,” You press your lips together into a line as you scoot Jack back into the hallway, closing the door behind you as you follow in after him. “I mean who on earth wears a full black suit to a first date?”

His face only proved to furrow further at your words, leaving you to sigh exasperatedly.

“At least lose the tie,”

“Your attitude is very out of line Agent,” He does as you ask anyway, loosening his tie and pulling it over his head before taking a glance at himself in the hallway mirror.

“We’re off the clock Sir,” You return his snark fervently. “Undo the collar of your shirt, you look ten years older than you actually are with it buttoned up like that,”

“You are very capable of making suggestions about my clothes without insulting me in the process,” Hotch undoes his collar with a sigh. As much as he likes to be dismissive, you were right in your suggestion that the tie and collar made him look too formal.

This was supposed to be a fun evening, not a boring business meeting.

“You’re nervous, I get it, but you’ll be fine,” You bend down to take Jack in your arms as he tugs on your sleeve. “Your dad looks much better now doesn’t he Jack?”

The boy nods enthusiastically with a thumbs up, and it forces a small smile to break through Hotch’s stony façade. “Using my son against me isn’t fair either,”

“Hush, you’ve got to get going before your late and all of this effort is for naught,” You open the front door again with Jack still resting on your hip, practically pushing Hotch out of the door of his own house.

“I don’t have to be there for another thirty-five minutes-”

“Buy her some flowers on your way there,” You continue to guide him to turn away from you towards his car, giving his back a small push in its direction. “Wish your dad good luck little man,”

“Good luck daddy! Have lots of fun!” Jack waves enthusiastically from your arms, smiling widely as Hotch turns around to face the two of you once more with an exasperated sigh.

“Thanks buddy, i’ll be home soon,” Despite his mild annoyance at your pushing, he can’t help but smile at Jack’s positiveness. “Behave okay?”

Jack gives a determined nod and a double thumbs up. “I love you daddy,”

“I love you too bud, see you later,”

You shoot him a “Good luck!” as he climbs in his car, one that he acknowledges with a dismissive wave of his hand before he drives off, leaving you and Jack with no company but each other.

“Can we have pizza for dinner?” You laugh at Jack’s question as you watch Hotch’s car pull out of the driveway, turning your attention to the boy in your arms.

“We can definitely have pizza for dinner,”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

It’s less than five minutes before there’s a knock on the door, and you prepare yourself to give Hotch a half-insulting pep-talk about the fact that his date is going to be fine and there was no way he should cancel it last minute because he got cold feet on the way there.

“Hotch come on-” You’ve already begun by the time you open the front door, and your train of thought is immediately de-railed at the sight of Spencer Reid at the door. “Oh- Spencer- I- What are you doing here?”

He looked just as surprised to see you.

“I- Uh- Garcia said that Hotch needed a babysitter for 7?” Spencer flashes his watch in your direction and lo and behold it’s seven pm on the dot.

“Ah,” You can't help but laugh at the mix-up, shaking your head. "A classic mix-up, feels like one of those cheesy movies don’t you think?"

“She asked you too?” Spencer gives you a sheepish smile, adjusting his bag on his shoulder.

“No,” You shake your head softly with a small laugh. “Hotch did, looks like Penny got a little in over her head with the organising,”

“Yeah,” Spencer pulls his lips into a line, shifting his balance on the balls of his feet. “I uh- I guess i’ll be going then,”

“No no don’t be silly,” You shrug off Spencer’s awkwardness with a smile, stepping aside to let him in, "The more the merrier. Come in, me and Jack have just ordered pizza,"

As if on cue, Jack comes bounding out of the living room, his eyes lighting up when he sees Spencer, "Spencer! Are you staying too?"

Spencer crouches down to Jack's level, giving him a friendly pat on the head with a smile, "It looks like it, Jack. You ready for a fun night with us?" He always was good with kids.

Jack nods eagerly, already pulling Spencer by the hand towards the living room, chattering away about the new toy he got. You watch them disappear down the hall, a smile on your face. It was going to be an interesting night, to say the least.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Interesting was right.

Pizza was always a good go to if you didn’t want to cook, but one thing about looking after a six year old is they can forget that hand food can be messy.

“Jack careful-” Spencer extends his hand over Jack’s lap to try and catch the sliding cheese from his pizza before it hits his lap. He’s half successful, but it still ends up leaving a red blotch on Jack’s spiderman pyjamas nonetheless.

“Oh no!” Jack looks down at his lap wide-eyed, half a slice of pizza still held in his hands.

You laugh shortly at the sight, “Maybe we should get you a plate little man,”

Spencer follows you into the kitchen to rinse his hands and search Hotch’s kitchen for something to wipe Jack’s pyjamas with as you arm yourself up with three plates rather than having you all eat straight from the box.

After the pizza incident, you all move to the couch, settling down with a bowl of popcorn and picking a movie that Jack would enjoy. Spencer ends up narrating half the movie, filling in the scientific facts behind the animated characters' adventures, while you and Jack listen, interrupted occasionally by Jack wanting further clarification on the things Spencer explains.

It was probably the most you’d ever heard him talk in one sitting, enthusiastically over-explaining everything Jack asks about with a small glint in his eyes that makes you forget that you’re just playing house.

By the time the movie ends, Jack is almost asleep, nestled in the crook of Spencer's arm with half-lidded eyes and the occasional yawn. You share a soft smile with Spencer at Jack’s expression, both of you appreciating the quiet moment now that his seemingly endless supply of energy has finally dwindled.

You help Spencer carry Jack to his bedroom, tucking him in and whispering soft “goodnight,”s. Back in the living room, the two of you clean up the remnants of your movie night, the atmosphere comfortable and warm.

“So, what should we do now then?” You glance at the clock as you fold up the empty cardboard pizza box, it was just past 10PM now, seemed like Hotch was having a good time considering he hadn’t even messaged either of you to indicate when he was coming home.

“I uh- I’m not actually sure-” Spencer’s awkwardness seems to return now that he doesn’t have Jack as a buffer for his inherent lack of social grace, and he keeps his eyes firmly locked on the coffee table as he wipes it down.

“Didn’t a new episode of Doctor Who air tonight?”

Spencer finally turns his gaze up to you at the mention of the show. He didn’t know you kept up with Doctor Who. “Uh yeah- it’s on in about..” He turns his eyes down to his watch momentarily. “Seven minutes?”

“Well there we go then,” You round the corner into the kitchen with your voice slightly raised so that he can still hear you. “We can watch the new episode of Doctor Who and by the time it’s finished hopefully Hotch should be back so we can actually go home and sleep for our 7AM start tomorrow,”

A small smile breaks onto his face, both at your suggestion and at your very apparent distaste for the early start you had to endure tomorrow. “I didn’t know you watched Doctor Who,”

“I don’t really-” You shrug your shoulders slightly, a half-guilty expression on your face as you re-enter the living room. “I watched a few episodes after you kept mentioning it in the office,”

“Oh-” Spencer blinks at you in surprise at your confession, watching as you take a seat on the couch with your legs crossed underneath you. “Well uh- What did you think?”

“It’s pretty interesting,” Spencer practically lights up at your statement, taking a seat beside you with the TV remote in hand, making sure to leave a few inches of a gap between yourselves as he flicks through the channels. “I like the way they explained the time travel aspect,”

“Mhm,” Spencer nods enthusiastically at your statement, leaving the remote on the coffee table once he’s found the correct channel and half turning in your direction. “Actually, the way that the time travel is explained in Doctor is very accurate to how it would be in real life, with real scientific backing that several astrophysicists have agreed on,”

This was going to be a long episode.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

A sharp clearing of somebody’s throat jolts you from the light sleep you’d found yourself in, and as you attempt to sit up straight you bash your head into something, hard.

“Ah-” Spencer clutches both hands to his jaw, cupped under his chin as he tries to massage away the pain that was suddenly shooting up the side of his face and waking him up in the process.

“Sleep well did you?” Hotch looked down at the two of you with a raised eyebrow, just barely concealing the amusement on his face as he watched the two of you untangle yourselves to regain some space between each other, looking like a pair of teenagers getting caught doing something they shouldn’t be.

“Hotch- Welcome home, how was your date?” You rub your eyes quickly as you try to deflect the situation.

“It was fine,” He turns his narrowed gaze from you to Spencer with all of the conviction of an overprotective father. “How was yours?”

Spencer almost chokes on his own saliva at the question, and it’s enough for the corners of Hotch’s mouth to turn up ever so slightly. “It wasn’t- We weren’t-”

Hotch holds up his hand as a silent instruction for Spencer to stop talking, and he shuts up immediately, lips pressed taut into a line. “I didn’t know I arranged two sitters,”

“Penny, you how overeager she is,” You give your (mostly valid) excuse with a guilty smile, brushing out the non-existent wrinkles in your jeans. “Spencer turned up like five minutes after you left and we’d already ordered food so it didn’t feel right to just send him off-”

Hotch's expression softens slightly, though the amusement in his eyes doesn't fade. "Well, I appreciate the effort. And it looks like Jack had a good time." He nods towards Jack's bedroom, where soft snores can be heard through the cracked door.

"Yeah, he's out like a light," you say, relieved that the evening went smoothly despite the unexpected turn of events.

Hotch glances between you and Spencer, his lips twitching as if he's fighting back a smile. "Well, I'll leave you two to it then. Thanks for looking after Jack." With that, he leaves the two of you in the living room to vacate to his kitchen, presumably to make himself a cup of coffee despite how late it was.

There's a moment of awkward silence before Spencer speaks up, his cheeks tinged with pink. "I should probably go. It's getting late."

You nod in agreement, though a part of you wishes he would stay a bit longer. "Yeah same here, probably for the best. Thanks for keeping me company tonight, Spencer. It was...unexpected, but nice."

Spencer offers you a small smile, his eyes warm. "Anytime. And hey uh, if you ever want to watch another episode of Doctor Who or... anything else, just let me know."

You return his smile, feeling a warmth spread through you at his offer. "I'll keep that in mind. Goodnight, Spencer."

"Goodnight" He mutters your name softly with a final nod, gathering his things and heading towards the door, leaving you alone to do the same as you call out a final “See you in the office,” in Hotch’s direction before leaving yourself to drive back to your apartment with the memory of the evening etched in your mind.

You can't help but think that despite the initial mix-up, the night turned out to be quite enjoyable, and if Spencer’s offer had anything to say, you might be engaging in more nights like this soon, without having to look after a kid in the process.

Score.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff #mgg #asks 🫶

[leclerc-s]

paint the town red - part nine

CRY MORE RED BULL

series masterlist

AUSTRIA 2024

isaiah atkins where the fuck is that little spider-shit?

harley keener currently? he's on the roof of mercedes hospitality tormenting toto.

isaiah atkins how the fuck has that kid lived as long as he has?

peter parker caffeine and spite

sebastian vettel what's this about peter telling red bull to 'cry more'

bianca stark-potts that's iconic. isaiah atkins no! it's not!

peter parker it's okay, we'll just shove lestappen down their throats this weekend and they'll forget all about it.

charles leclerc what the hell is a lestappen? peter parker it's you and max! charles leclerc what the fuck??

carlos sainz it's like how lando and i are carlando!

harley keener and how tony and steve are stony

tony stark what the actual fuck keener?

sebastian vettel or how nico and lewis are referred to as brocedes, right?

arthur leclerc see charles, even seb understands what we're talking about and he's older than you.

peter parker do you guys think i'll be able to meet nico rosberg and ask him about brocedes?

ollie bearman oh god, he's a menace. harley keener back home they call him spider-menace ollie bearman you know, that suits him.

isaiah atkins right, so apparently my job also requires me to babysit peter

bianca stark-potts isaiah, buddy, i hate to break it to you, but that's the main reason you were hired.

tony stark NO HE WASN'T! it was so that he could babysit all of you, except seb.

tony stark although, i'm not quite convinced that man isn't a menace still.

sebastian vettel i am an angel stark! tony stark jury's still out

bianca stark-potts posted new stories

local menace is pouting after isaiah scolded him

the best boy

so where we gonna go?

sam wilson i bet tony is watching bianca like a hawk.

tony stark WELL WHO THE FUCK IS HE??

tony stark my gut is telling me it's like verstappen or something.

tony stark i just know it has to be someone from a different team

queen shuri for a man who claims he's such a genius, you sure are stupid

bianca stark-potts SHURI SHUT UP!

natasha romanoff i know who it is

tony stark WHAT? HOW?

bianca stark-potts THAT'S NOT FAIR, YOU SENT YELENA TO SPY ON ME? THAT'S SUCH BULLSHIT NAT!

natasha romanoff HOW DID YOU KNOW? bianca stark-potts for a former black widow, she's not very good at disguises. her black wig is horrendous.

joaquin torres i think it's charles. nothing can change my mind.

sam wilson it has to be like norris or sargeant.

bucky barnes clint managed to convince me, it has to be an older driver. i vote jenson button.

kate bishop well we know it's not yuki because who ever he is, he's taller than bianca.

tony stark nat, i'll pay you to tell me who it is.

natasha romanoff i only did it to know if her was good enough for her, i think he is.

natasha romanoff added one person

yelena belova ah kate bishop is here!

kate bishop oh no.

tony stark yelena, pleasure, who is my daughter seeing?

yelena belova natasha? natasha romanoff no, you can't tell him. it'll be much funnier when bianca tells him. yelena belova understood. sorry stark, i cannot say anything tony stark OH COME ON!

harley keener added one person

isaiah atkins do i want to know why? or what this is?

carlos sainz bianca and charles have something to tell you!

isaiah atkins is it that they're dating?

charles leclerc how the hell? bianca stark-potts how the fuck?

isaiah atkins oh don't worry, it's not anything you two did. you're doing great at keep it a secret.

isaiah atkins harley and carlos on the other hand. they suck at keeping a secret. it's not like they're trying. they tease you two at every opportunity they get. seb's figured it out too.

charles leclerc how long do think it'll take tony or peter to figure it out?

bianca stark-potts i love my dad but he can't ever see what's in front of him. it took him months to figure out nat was a widow

harley keener as for peter, that kid couldn't figure that his girlfriend, mj, was flirting with him before they started dating.

isaiah atkins i hope you two know the paperwork for this is insane

charles leclerc well, we're not officially dating. bianca stark-potts so no paperwork yet.

isaiah atkins you're both idiots

isaiah atkins i hope you know that

bianca stark-potts WHAT'S THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?

SILVERSTONE 2024

scuderiaferrari, harleykeener, and biancastark_potts have posted new stories

silverstone isn't ready for track terror leclerc and chili sainz.

i leave my phone with these nerds for two fucking minutes

natasha come pick up your fucking sister

bianca stark-potts nat, ask your guard dog to back off.

yelena belova bianca, you are not very nice.

yelena belova everyone says you are a nice person. i think they are liars.

bianca stark-potts YOU CRASHED MY DATE!

yelena belova natasha said i had to make sure he could handle them. i am pleased to announce he is.

yelena belova he is very nice. offered to pay for my meal if i stayed, i did.

joaquin torres love that for you. i would've crashed her date too bianca stark-potts JOAQUIN? I TRUSTED YOU? joaquin torres I WANT TO KNOW WHO HE IS!

sam wilson if we kick tony out will yelena tell us who he is?

yelena belova no, but i would like to inform everyone that sebastian vettel and carlos sainz also know who he is. charles is a little lost on who it is. he thinks it's isaiah like peter.

peter parker IT HAS TO BE HIM. BIANCA WOULD STAB ME IN THE BACK LIKE THAT.

bianca stark-potts I'M SORRY? WHO WAS THE ONE WHO TOLD NICK ABOUT BECK YOU SPIDER-FUCK

maria hill you people have problems. please stop texting each other.

bucky barnes no thanks maria. you can leave.

maria hill has left the chat

peter parker has added maria hill

peter parker NO ONE IS LEAVING! maria hill leave me alone! peter parker NO!

tony stark YELENA I WILL PAY YOU 500 THOUSAND TO TELL ME WHO HE IS!

yelena belova i find it more satisfying to see you lose your mind over this than money. money, which i could easily steal from you

bianca stark-potts i told you, i'll tell you when I WANT TO.

bianca stark-potts keep this up and i'll let you find out from an instagram post.

yelena belova it's not isaiah. i can tell you all that.

tony stark i will drop this, but only because i know bianca is capable of doing that.

bianca stark-potts thanks dad.

series taglist: @burningcupcakefire @spilled-coffee-cup @evans-dejong @elliegrey2803 @bingewatche @arkhammaid @sunflower-golden-vol6 @lorarri @ironspdy @mypage-myfandoms @be-your-coffee-pot @celesteblack08 @vellicora @enchantedthoughts @stopeatread @hobiismyhopeu @lilsiz @alessioayla @niniluvsainz @au-ghosttype @six-call @embrosegraves @justtprachisblog @bionic-donut @nichmeddar @landonorizzz @unluckyyoshi @jamie-selwyn @cool-ultra-nerd @kami10471633 @int3rnetgf @fernandoswarcrimes @skynel09 @arieltwvdtohamflash @brekkers-whore @camdensreg @mycenterfold @dear-fifi @chiliwhore @nothaqks @nataliambc @jensonsonlybutton @octopussesarecool @trouble-sistar @raizelchrysanderoctavius @meadhbhcavanagh

¡leclerc-s speaks! i’m in mourning. no one talk to me. in a perfect world charlos are teammates until at least 2025 when audi comes into play. ALL MEN DO IS LIE! WHAT HAPPENED TO “TOGETHER OR NOTHING?”

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

#leclerc-s #paint the town red series #f1 instagram au #f1 x oc #f1 oc #f1 smau #f1 social media au #f1 #formula one #f1 fic #formula 1 fic #f1 x female oc #charles leclerc x female oc #marvel social media au #f1 x marvel crossover

[foolishlovers]

MUTUAL PINING FIC RECS: Below you'll find a list of Good Omens fics in which Aziraphale and Crowley are pining for each other.

You can request more fic recs here.

you play with my feelings (right from the start) by PenroseSun (G, 3k)

There were three things of which Crowley was absolutely certain: 1. Aziraphale, being an angel, was required to be kind and loving towards all things, even when those things were flawed or sinful or fallen. 2. Notwithstanding that obligatory kindness, Aziraphale would never, and could never truly love a demon, in any meaningful sense. 3. Despite this, Crowley was desperately, hopelessly, in love with him.

For To Quench My Thirst by apliddell (G, 6k)

After moving to Sussex with Aziraphale, Crowley is trying so hard to be satisfied with friendship and the suddenly beautiful life he already has.

Slow by write_away (T, 9k)

It started like this: A boy with the ability to warp reality met an angel and a demon and he made assumptions. You might say it started like this: An angel and a demon found a marriage contract hung on the wall of the angel's bookshop. They didn't question it. It also could have started like this: Once upon a time, the angel told the demon he went too fast. The demon took it to heart.   Aziraphale and Crowley find themselves somehow married. Crowley fears going too fast. Aziraphale forges ahead. Neither know how to ask questions of each other.

got a pretty face, pretty boyfriend too by KissMyAsthma, leukozyna (T, 9k)

Aziraphale and Crowley are next-door neighbours. They’ve been attracted to each other since they met. The only thing keeping them apart is a thin wall between their bedrooms and Atticus and Freddie, Aziraphale’s and Crowley’s respective life partners… or are they? A human AU glued together by misunderstandings and wet food.

speed limits (and how to break them) by darcylindbergh (E, 13k)

There is a trick people do with a mint candy and a bottle of cola which results in a small eruption, and something very like it, for much higher stakes than a laugh in a car park, is about to take place in Aziraphale’s back room. Or: what happens when you finally unscrew the cap on a six thousand years of repression, and drop in Valentine’s Day.

Something We Were Withholding Made Us Weak by triedunture (M, 17k)

"Yes, exactly. Retire." Aziraphale reaches for the last remaining tartlet brimming with summer berries. "Somewhere along the south coast, perhaps." Or: Crowley and Aziraphale learn to move in tandem.

32 Questions That Lead To Love by ffonippop (E, 32k)

”First formulated in 1997, [32] questions to fall in love is a study by psychologist Dr. Arthur Aron which took place at Stony Brook University, New York. The aim? Speeding up the creation of intimacy between two strangers.” The Cosmopolitan Okay, fine. Crowley was 32-Questions-That-Lead-To-Love-ing Aziraphale. Sue him. He had no expectations, all right? Just, an innocent curiosity.

Flowers From The Grave Of Our Friendship by WaitingToBeBroken (E, 50k)

Crowley is very good at temptation, not so good with what comes afterwards. Aziraphale knows demons don't love so he is happy to take anything Crowley would give him. Both of them are too blind to realize the thing they want is right in front of them.

Fledging by FeralTuxedo (M, 53k)

Cool Dad was at the school gate again. Clambering out of his ridiculous sports car like a great big spider, all black denim and designer sunglasses. What a prat. He made his way towards the entrance, followed by his equally lanky son. All the mums' eyes were on him. Which was fine. At least they weren't staring at Aziraphale for a change. Cool Dad high-fived his son goodbye, because of course he did, then sauntered back to his car. Making it look so bloody easy. Aziraphale Fell is much too young to be looking after eleven-year old Pepper. He barely has his life together as it is, with his minimum-wage job and a half-baked dream of trading rare books for a living. And as if adopting a recently bereaved pre-teen isn’t enough, there are some rather more adult problems to navigate: playground politics, the shadows of his own childhood, and the growing question of how Crowley, the only other dad at the school gate, feels about him. A human AU/kid fic.

Style and Substance by Cabernet_Woebegone (E, 89k)

“But y’know, if my boss finds out I’m helping you even a little, they’re gonna throw me out on my ass.” “Yes, I understand it is a bit of a conflict of interest for you… Is there something I can offer you in return? Something you would like?” Aziraphale questioned hopefully. You, Crowley thought loudly as he took a second sip. I want to know if you moan when you kiss the same way you do when you try something delicious. I want to know if your lips taste like Zinfandel. “Yes, actually.” Aziraphale is having difficulty running his restaurant, and it isn't helping that he believes the place across the street is trying to sabotage him. To his surprise, chef Crowley comes to him on friendly terms. Together they come up with an arrangement that could benefit them both.

On Espionage and Prophecy (or How to Accidentally, but Wholly, Fall in Love With a Soho Bookseller) by RockSaltAndRoll (E, 133k)

1941 is the London Blitz and the year that MI5 really comes into its own with the now infamous ‘double cross’ system. The service keep tabs on suspects, root out enemy agents and try to turn them into doubles. Anthony J Crowley is fucking great at this job. He can be sneaky, underhanded and damn ruthless but also charming and kind. It’s what makes him good at turning. Aziraphale is just a regular Soho bookseller who loves his shop and books and good food and wine when he’s approached by a woman claiming to be MI5, wanting to recruit him for espionage. The poor man is too trusting and gets the shock of his life when he’s approached by a charming but dangerous-looking man also claiming to be MI5. Crowley recruits Aziraphale to double cross a double crosser and Aziraphale takes to espionage like a duck to water. Danger, hijinks, and sex ensue.

Old Vines by sevdrag (E, 189k)

A.Z. Fell, one of the most respected names in wine and food blogging, has been sent on assignment with his assistant Warlock Dowling to spend six months in California Wine Country. Under direction (by his boss, Gabriel) to use this experience to double his blog followers and write a novel, Aziraphale is both excited and anxious about the opportunity. Anthony J. Crowley is the owner and viticulturalist of Ecdyses, a winery that unexpectedly fell into his lap eleven years ago when he hit rock bottom. He may be in debt, yeah, but he’s paying off his loans — and despite pressure from his lenders and their team of inspectors, Crowley has found a kind of contentment tending his little corner of terroir and producing extraordinary wine. Crowley’s old vines are the heart of his vineyard, and he’s never let anyone in. Crowley finds Aziraphale intriguing; Aziraphale finds Crowley enthralling. Turns out a famous wine expert and an experienced viticulturalist can still learn things from each other. The summer of 2019 unfolds.

#support is so appreciated <3 #just hoping someone might find a new favourite!! #i think i may have material for another 2-3 mutual pining posts ngl it's one of my favourite tropes #also i know i know i've recommended old vines a thousand times but it really is THAT fic for me. do yourself a favour and read it pls!! #good omens #good omens fic rec #go fic recs #good omens fanfic #good omens fic #aziracrow fanfic #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #good omens human au #ineffable husbands #ineffable spouses #foolish recs #go fic masterpost

[rollingsins]

the drabble files, p1

p1 | p2

summary: If you're not counting the murder, Tara's most toxic trait is her hatred of your favorite artist.  

warnings: (+18), Tara is Ghostface, mention of murder, mention of sex, strong anti-ariana grande rhetoric.

word count: 800 words.

a/n: going to start a mini-series of all hers drabbles that will all loosely exists within the universe. this one is set around part iv (pre-Wes)

 “Could you at least pretend to enjoy it?” You yell over the blare of the music.

You’re standing in the nosebleeds of an Ariana Grande concert. A concert you’d saved up a lot of money to go to. Stashing away birthday money, weeks of allowance.

And it’s amazing. The lights. The music. Ariana. 

Except for one thing. 

Tara’s been standing next to you the entire night pouting, her arms crossed, her stance stony. Like a boyfriend at a women’s clothing shop, or your Dad waiting for your Mom to get her nails done. 

Like she clearly would rather be anywhere else. 

“Then you’d think I approve of this garbage, which I do not.” She says, nose tilted slightly. Her tone betraying her hatred, “It’s awful, teeny-bopping nonsense.” She pauses, “And she’s not even that pretty.” 

She is Ariana Grande herself. 

Your favorite artist and Tara’s number one enemy. You'd vaguely mentioned once you thought she was cute.

And Tara had hated her ever since.

Angrily switching the radio station whenever one of her songs came on. Flipping the channel anytime she was on a talk show. You’d even once caught her trying to throw all of Ariana’s vogue covers in the garbage at the grocery store. 

It’s ridiculous. 

“You have nothing to worry about babe. As if Ariana would ever give me a shot.” You’d teased on the way home. 

Maybe the wrong thing to say. She’d angrily stopped the car and thrown you into the backseat.

Then fucked you so hard it made the car squeak. 

But that was months ago, you’d thought she would have gotten over it by now. 

You groan. Try to tug at Tara’s arm to loosen her up. 

“Baby, please. You know how much I saved up for this. If I had known you were going to be such a grinch the whole night, I would have invited Liv instead.” 

That she doesn’t like at all. 

She stares at you through the fog of the rainbow colored lights. 

“Liv?” She says, disbelief on her face, “Liv?” 

“Not too late to text her,” You warn, waving your phone about, “You better get dancing.” 

Tara narrows her eyes. She leans in close, giving up her crossed arms to wrap an arm around your waist. 

“Bathroom.” She says, voice low, dangerous, “Now. You’re about to get fucked so hard you won’t even remember the name of that tone-deaf, spray-tanned oompa-loompa.” She gestures wildly to the stage. 

You hum. Press a kiss to her cheek. 

“No thanks.” 

Tara blinks back at you. 

“No thanks?”

“I’m watching the show,” You say. You wrap and arm around her shoulder, nuzzle your nose to her cheek, “I’ve got to support my other girlfriend, babe.” 

It’s a dangerous game you’re playing. But you can’t help it. Tara’s grudge is so ridiculous it’s hard not to make fun of her for it. Her hand tightens around your waist. She grips you so hard you wince. 

“You think this is funny?” She growls. There’s fire behind her eyes, “You won’t be laughing when I sneak into her dressing room and slit her throat ear from ear-”

Your eyes widen. You smack your hand over her mouth. 

“Tara,” You hiss, looking around, “There’s children here.” 

They don’t seem to have noticed your girlfriend threatening to carve up their favorite pop star. Too enraptured by the music. Tara bats your hand away. 

“Bathroom.” She insists. 

“I’m not fucking you in a bathroom at a concert,” You say, voice flat.

“Oh, you’ll be the one getting fucked, I assure you.” She says, eyes wild.

You look at her, all worked up and fiery-eyed and sigh. You lean down and press a kiss to her cheek, stroking her hair out of her eyes. 

“I’m kidding, baby. You know you’re the only one for me,” You say, “I just like her music, is all.”

It doesn’t relax her. Her eyebrows are furrowed, and she’s still staring at you like she’s about to throw you down and make you hers right in front of Ariana and forty thousand other people. 

You press a gentle kiss to her lips. 

“When we get home you can do whatever you want to me,” You promise, “But not unless you loosen up and let me enjoy the concert.”

Her lip twitches. 

“Please, baby.” 

She stares at you for a long moment, eyes still guarded. 

“I’m not dancing.” She says, voice tight. 

“You don’t have to dance, you just have to stop standing there like an axe murderer.” You negotiate. 

She considers this. 

“Fine,” She says. She leans in, presses a kiss to your lips, “But when we get home, I’m tying you up and pounding you so hard you forget her name.”

Your stomach flips. 

The crowd screams. The music blares your favorite song, but Tara’s promise is all the only thing you hear. 

“Deal.”

#all hers #drabble files #scream vi #scream #tara carpenter #fanfic #mine #jenna ortega #tara carpenter x you #ghostface!tara #jenna ortega x you #tara carpenter x yn #tara carpenter x reader #ariana grande

[tatesdiary]

No more

Summary Tate comes up to see you after your dad told him he couldn't be his psychiatrist anymore.

tags you know everything about Tate etc., cursing, you're Bens & Vivien's daughter

word count 675

Tate Langdon x f!reader

"I don't understand him, you know? Like, I finally got a friend - which they've been pushing me to do - and then he wants to get rid of you?" Huffing you fall back against your pillows, angered at your dad's lack of understanding.

"I mean I kinda brought this onto myself," Tate mumbles, his eyes still a little red from his crying earlier. "No," he flinches at your loud tone and you get up from the bed, instead standing between his legs.

"Just because he couldn't handle that we're in a relationship he's being unprofessional. Wow, you definitely brought that on yourself," the sarcasm in your voice is palpable.

He sighs and leans forward, his head resting on your chest and his arms looping around your waist. You bury a hand in his soft hair, playing with it the way he loves.

"I don't know why you stick with me. You know all the things I did, how can you not hate me?" His voice is shaky and you almost crumble when he looks up with his big doe eyes.

"I don't think it's okay what you did. I told you before. But you have to stop thinking it's all your fault, when this house and the other ghosts had a huge part in it. And you've gotten better, too," he smiles a little and you melt - letting go of him and laying back down. "Come cuddle me. Also, I'll talk to my Dad later."

He nods and kicks his shoes off. When he lays down you take him in your arms, knowing he loves being the little spoon (when you first found out you couldn't hold back cooing at him).

He sniffles a little before his breathing evens out, holding your hand tightly to his chest while sleeping.

When you're sure he's in deep sleep you loosen yourself from him, closing the door and searching for your dad.

You find him still sitting in the chair, seemingly saying goodbye to another patient.

When she's left you speak up, "We have to talk." Is all you say and sit down in the place of one of his patients. He looks surprised but nods and sits down in his leather seat, "What's up?"

"Why'd you send Tate away? He told you a million times he doesn't want to be treated by anyone else and he's obviously been through a lot. Why the fuck would you tell him to leave?"

His expression turns stony and he sighs, "(y/n), you know he's dangerous, he can't stay here. And he talks about you in a way I'm not comfortable with."

You laugh humorlessly, "Oh, so you can't deal with him? A teenager? Isn't that, like, your job? Get your shit together, ever since you cheated on mom and got that girl pregnant you've been letting it out on everyone but yourself." Rolling your eyes you get up, ready to leave. You knew that's not the way to talk to your parent, but he behaved like everything was resolved around him and like his actions didn't hurt anyone.

"Stop believing everything's gonna turn out great. You ruined this family. It's your fault, get it in your head, Jesus. And start treating Tate again, you can't stop me from seeing him anyway."

Sending him a last glare you push yourself up and leave, seeing the very boy you just talked about sheepishly leaning against the railing. With an embarrassed grin you walk over and lean against him, his arms going around your waist.

"It's so sexy when you're mean," he says and you gasp before laughing, hitting his chest weakly. As you're about to answer the door from the living room opens and your dad comes out, stilling when he sees you both.

Before he can start scolding you again you take Tate's hand and pull him back to your room.

#tate langdon x reader #tate langdon #evan peters x reader #american horror story #evan peters

[hi-i-love-u-bitch]

No thoughts; only the batkids making a viral shitty music video cover of 1985 by Bo Burnham all of them dancing while wearing shades. Damien is playing the keyboard, stony faced and also wearing shades, while Dick leads vocals. When they get to the part of "I wanna be my dad in 1985" instead of saying "Scott Burnham" they replace it with "Bruce Wayne" accompanied with awkward photos of Bruce in his early 20s being a disaster.

#batman #batdad #batfam #bruce wayne #dick grayson #damian wayne #tim drake #jason todd #duke thomas #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #alfred pennyworth