Fifty shades of grey AU (I have two versions to get outta my head, for Penny!Peter and for Trans!Peter) - AN: I'm barely past the first movie so we'll see if I get to this.
Hyperventilation AU
Dracula AU
Pretty Woman AU - IN PROGRESS
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Not to mention I will also be taking prompts for whoever feels like sharing or would like to help an aspiring writer come out of his funk of 3 years. ( retail is draining )
Ships of all kinds for most fandoms are welcome, especially for Peter ( mostly from mcu or tasm, my fave )
I got inspired by THIS which is a wonderful concept but with MY messy brain goo I thinkin' this, especially for other shippers like me out there just MIGHT be into it.
Peter Parker is a waiter and Fae, living with his Aunt May and adopted sister MJ. One night while working Peter meets Tony, the first ever vampire to walk into Barnes (yes because shapeshifter Bucky just tickles me so right). Immediately he's smitten with Tony and so begins the love story of them BUT with a twist.
In place of Eric Northman, we have Wanda Maximoff; second oldest vampire to Godric AND first hybrid of vampire and witch bloodline. She's accustomed to ruthless people and lifestyle HOWEVER, Peter's caring yet feisty demeanor causes an enamoring even she doesn't understand. But she ISN'T about to lose it anytime soon.
So begins as well an unimagined throuple situation between Tony a vampire, Peter a Fae and Wanda a first ever hidden hybrid. But BOTH willing to go beyond normal lengths to protect their precious little Fae boyfriend and find common ground where they didn't before.
Anonymous asked: ok so i’m gonna request a fic - feel free to get around to it whenever, ik you’ve just gotten a new job (congrats on that btw!!) so literally do this whenever. and def dont start it now because it’s very early in the morning and we all need our sleep.
can i request a frank castle x trans male reader fic that goes w the prompt “you’re mine, no one else is allowed to fucking touch you”? frank sorta shows up at his house at the ass crack of dawn, and he lets the reader tends to his wounds (ofc frank can do that for himself, but a) he’s missing being taken care of if ygwim and b) he wants to check if the reader is safe and ok but has no idea how to do it). could you keep it sfw please tho? like idm swearing ofc but yk what i mean. thank u!!<3
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summary: Frank shows up unannounced and hurt at a ridiculous time, but he's lucky that you're willing to put up with that.
tws: injury and wounding, swearing
Oh, Frank was buggered as he hung onto the doorframe and waited for you to answer, doubting that you would; it was hardly dawn yet, the sun only just starting to get up onto its throne, and the chilly wind that whispered so softly made him growl and hang his head, agitated wounds never did like the cold. But then he perked up a little, knowing the song so damn well and fucking grinning when he heard it as the door opened.
'Treat Me Like the Dog I Am', Mötley Crüe. You said nothing as you dragged Frank's sorry ass inside and made him sit down at your kitchen table; he didn't want to talk, not really, but Billy Russo had told him that you were next. He didn't want to go anywhere else even though he had plenty of friends who were qualified for this sort of thing; he didn't like the thought of you being safe. Not when you had come so far in your transition that he was floored by how proud of you he felt. Not when you had always been the most handsome man in his life. Not when you were the only one who could make him blush and grin with little more than a smile; he hadn't done that in so long, before he met you, there had only one person who could do such a thing. Maybe she sent you Frank's way. Maybe not. He wasn't really into that sort of thing; religion was never really his scene.
Still, right now, there were two things on his mind; the first was getting those damn wounds patched. He could do it himself, he had done it before a thousand and one times, but he missed having someone take care of him; the doctors and nurses that he had alliances with could have done it, but Frank felt like he needed to be here with you. He felt like he had to stay, just to keep you safe and sound, just to guard you and shield you.
As you sat down with him, you tore open a packet of plasters and antiseptic wipes, sighing heavily as you chewed at the inside of your lip; sure, Frank had been there for you more times than you could count. He taught you how to present yourself in the way that you felt most comfortable when you asked, he supported you with everything - from your transition and how you saw fit to do so, all the way through to telling you which haircuts would suit you best and even through to the little things like giving you words of reassurance and softness when you needed them - without hesitation, he was there in a heartbeat if you ever needed him. Like when he had brought over battenburg cake at three o'clock in the morning because you wanted some; you weren't sure how he had gotten it when all the shops were closed, but you didn't question it. But it was more than that.
Frank meant a lot to you, a Hell of a lot, and even though you often worried about him, you knew that you had no right to; your feelings for him would never be returned, you had no right to worry when he was the Punisher and you were little more than just some guy who fancied him. You never had any right to worry, but when he clenched his jaw and growled at the sting of the antiseptic, you swallowed thickly and sighed.
"I'm sorry, Frank, but it's gonna hurt like a bitch."
"I'm fine," he replied, "as long as I got you, (y/n), I'm fine."
'Far from the Fame' by Sabaton started to play, and Frank actually relaxed a little when you started to hum along to it, even daring to smile when you sang the chorus to yourself.
"As the war rages on, you are our guide, far, far from the fame, far, far away from the fame but we still remember your name, Karel Janoušek, we mourn the day that you died so be our guide, Czechoslovakia’s pride..."
Frank really missed moments like this, moments when he could actually relax just because he was around you, and he could hear you quietly sing along to the songs you loved so much; he didn't even pay attention to how you patched him up, lost in the sound of your voice and the gentle grace of your fingertips. He licked his lips, and just as he was about to speak, you beat him to it.
"You're all done," you told him, patting his shoulder. "Just don't go getting stabbed and shot and God knows what else again."
He nodded, stealing a look at you and swallowing thickly. "Y'know, I always did like hearing you sing."
You scoffed as you raised a brow, shaking your head. "Of course you do... you want a coffee?"
"Yeah, please," he agreed, watching you walk away as you went about putting the medical equipment away. He heard the rush of the boiling tap and he heard the clink of the spoon against the mug, and before he could thank you properly, you set a cup of coffee in front of him.
"You might as well stay for a while," you told him. "Y'know, so I can keep an eye on you."
Frank hummed, tracing the rim of the mug with his finger as he did his best not to look at you. "Yeah, course... I might as well anyway, someone's gotta protect you."
"I don't need protecting," you muttered. "But if it makes you feel better... sure. You can even sleep in my bed tonight."
"Sounds good," he dared to crack a smile. So broken and jaded and hardly even a smile, but to you, it meant everything. "Besides, if I don't protect you... how can I make sure the only guy I wanna be with is safe?"
You furrowed your brows. "The fuck do you mean?"
"I mean..." he ran a hand down his face and grumbled. "I've been thinking, (y/n), and if you... look, I'm never gonna be a perfect boyfriend, maybe not even a fucking good one, but... if you want me, you can have me."
You nodded slowly, swallowing thickly. "I can have you?"
"If you want me," Frank said quietly. "Otherwise I won't say shit about it again."
"I do," you admitted, daring to grin. "Fuck, Frank, why didn't you say earlier? I mean... shit. I'll tell you later."
"No one's ever gonna get you, though," he growled. "No one. You're mine, no one else is allowed to fucking touch you, and I'll make sure of it."
if you liked this fic, REBLOG IT - you SHOULD reblog it; spam likers WILL be blocked. as will blogs that refuse to reblog or to give feedback. if you don't wanna reblog, then you'll get blocked; reblogging is the BARE MINIMUM. don't just "like", REBLOG
they need to invent a specific word to describe the GRRGHGAHGA RYRURGUGR AURURGRHGR. GGRGGRGRGRHGHAVAGGHRRUGRUGRHRGHRGHRGHR AGHAGHRGHGRHRGHRHA NRURGAHGAHGRHGHR emotion you get when you think about a special interest or hyperfixation too hard. nothing that currently exists gets it
Synopsis: From an young age Peter Parker had always known struggle and hustle; losing his parents at a young age, then his Uncle at 15 and finally his Aunt at 17 to a car crash. Since 18 he's been living with his friend MJ in Los Angeles trying to get control of his life again by scraping by however he could; turns out working the corner as the adored soft rent boy paid better than just MJ's donut shop job alone.
Then enter THE Tony Stark, multi-billionaire playboy inventor...Who was currently lost here and needed direction. Asking for directions costs him $320 dollars that night, plus a month with Peter he'd never forget. Peter mellows Tony out from his aggressive business demeanor, Tony shows Peter a side to life that is easy and luxurious.
How much scrutiny and change can each of them withstand before they call it quits, or call it love ?
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AN: Cheesy and rusty summary but here's a moodboard teaser for an in progress fic I'm working on for my beloved starker bois. <3
Do you do commissions? A donation page? Your art is seriously so nice and I want to give you money. Please.
sorry- this was asked a long time ago, and has been asked a lot in my messages but i somehow missed responding and don't have ask box open anymore. thank you for being interested! i don't do commissions at this time due to lack of time/energy but want to eventually some day.
i do have a kofi though, if you are feeling generous and wish to support me for just drawing in general, you can feel free to drop by:
Link here
Every day is a new opportunity to create the life you want. It’s easy to get stuck in a rut, but remember that change starts with small steps. Start with one small thing today and watch it grow. It might be something as simple as smiling at a stranger, or taking a different route to work. The small things add up, and before you know it, you’ll be on your way to creating the life you want.
When the world feels like it’s closing in around you and you can’t see a way out, remember that the storm will pass. You’ve made it through tough times before and you’ll make it through again. Just keep putting one foot in front of the other. Don’t give up on yourself. You’re stronger than you realize.