Imagine Steve Rogers and Johnny Storm are related!
“Uhh…” Bucky says.“Hm. I- what-” Sam attempts.Steve looks at the guy standing in front of him. He's sure that the guy’s wide-eyed stare is mirrored in his own face. How could it not be? They look almost exactly the same. His hair’s a little darker and cut closely-cropped to his head. He looks a few years younger than Steve too, or maybe that's just the way he's bouncing on the balls of his feet constantly like he doesn't even realize he's doing it. Bucky gasps suddenly and reaches out to smack Sam's arm. “What if-”“Um. Ouch? What the hell, Barnes?”“Oh God, sorry. But has anyone considered that this guy,” Bucky trails off for a second, waving his hands at Steve's almost-twin. “Is some kind of, weird science clone?”Sam gasps too, then. Steve knows them both well enough to know that both of their minds went straight to the ‘Two Steves are better than one’ gutter and are just now trying to climb out of it. Sam slaps Bucky's arm right back. Steve watches his face change from shock to pain as he pretends that he didn't just slap Bucky's metal arm. “Yeah!” Sam manages, weakly. “Are you a… weird science clone?”The guy guffaws and then says, “A weird science thing? Yes. A clone? No. Sounds like fun, though!” Steve pinches the bridge of his nose and watches Sam and Bucky's minds dive right back into the gutter where they belong. “Jesus, Mary and Joseph. Kid, I’m Steve Rogers.” He reaches out his hand for his almost-twin to shake.“Oh! That explains it! My grandmother was your mother’s sister! The name’s Johnny Storm.”“What?” Bucky asks.“That don't even-” Sam starts, then stops, shaking his head like he's had enough of this day already. “Aunt Ida was your grandmother?” Steve's smiling now. They didn't see her often but his Aunt Ida would bring him a cookie every time she came to see his mother. “She was a doll.”“That she was,” Johnny says, smile getting dreamy for a second. “Always told me my fascination with space was gonna get me killed.” He holds his hands out in front of him. “It just made me a superhero.”“Huh?” Steve asks. Then, “Well, that would explain the getup.”“Hey Uncle Steve,” Sam and Bucky both choke on their laughter. Steve arched an eyebrow. “If I impress you, will you let me be an Avenger?”Steve folds his arms across his chest, amused. “That depends, show me what you got.” He expects the kid to maybe pick up a car or pull out some cool tech. So it leaves him slack-jawed when the kid shouts, ‘flame on’ and literally, honest to God, sets himself on fire. He takes off, shooting up into the sky in a fireball that has Sam, Steve and Bucky left gaping below.“I like him,” Sam says.“You just like him cuz he can fly and I can't,” Steve tells him, scoffing as he watches Johnny show off above him. Bucky hums thoughtfully. “I think we should dump Steve for him.”“What a great idea.”Steve finally tears his eyes away from the fireball practically dancing in the sky just long enough to glare at Sam and Bucky. He sighs.
Hi! I love Gaston and your Gaston x Reader fics! Can you please write a fic where Gaston leaves the castle after the Beast lets him go and he moves away from Villeneuve, leaving France entirely and moves to Germany and lives in the German countryside, and meets the reader, a sweet and caring person who lives in the woods near the village and the villagers look down on them for being pagan/a witch amd Gaston and the reader fall in love and eventually marry.
Pairing: Gaston x ReaderFandom: Disney ; BatB (2017)Warnings: a bit of german, but I’ve translated it
A/N: well, well, what a fantastic request, my dear! I’m also really glad you decided on a german village, otherwise I would’ve had to rely on google translator and I don’t trust that little bitch lol. hope you like it <33
*****
Gastonhad spent his entire life living in France. It was home, after alland he had never any intention to leave.
Butwhen he survived the fall and realized how the villagers looked down athim, he felt it was best to do, what he never thought he would do.
He had packed his essentials and was gone a few days later, making his wayEast, until he was standing on German ground.
Newcountry. Maybe that would give him the fresh start he so desperately needed.
Hesoon found himself a nice little village, quite like the one he livedin before and asked around for hunting jobs and houses.
Anelderly man told him that no one hunted in these woods, because of theevil that lived within.
Gastonsimply laughed it off and told him, that he had faced much worse.
Theman gave him the keys to a hut in the woods and told him, that if hecould kill the witch that lived in the woods, the hunting hut in thewoods (which was fairly big) would be his.
Nothingas easy as that.
Gastondidn’t waste any time and made his way through the forest.
Thehardest part was finding out where this “witch” was hiding, exactly.
Theforests here were different than in France. He had a hard timereading any tracks and it took him longer than he thought it would, before he stood in front of a small wooden hut.
Hereadied his bow and waited for the witch to come out
Butno witch came.
Onlya young woman. A beautiful, young woman, that held a baby deer in herarms and softly placed it on the floor.
“Naalso. Zeit nach Hause zu gehen.” (There you go. Time to go home)
Gastondidn’t understand what you were saying, but the kind smile on yourface and the way you watched the deer depart, didn’t exactly scream ‘pureevil’ to him. So he lowered his bow again and decided to talkto you instead. Maybe you could tell him where the witch was hiding, since he seriously doubted that it was you.
Youjumped a little in surprise, when he came out of the bushes, but heimmediately held up his hands, showing that he didn’t mean any harm, his bow, on his back again.
Fornow, at least.
“Forgiveme, my lady. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Youreyebrows drew together in confusion and you cocked your head to theside.
“Canyou understand me?”
“Yes,”you answered simply.
Hesmiled and nodded.
“I’mGaston.”
“(Y/N).”
Youreyes held no traces of fear, which was something he hadn’t expected.Instead, you seemed.. curious, perhaps?
“Iwas about to make dinner. Would you like some?” you didn’t wait forhim to answer, simply turned around and walked back into the hut,leaving the door open, in case he wanted to come in. Most ofthe men you offered to come into your house, ran away screaming and crying, simplybecause they were expecting you to cook them. Hogwash. Humans didn’t taste half as good as they thought they did.
Gastonon the other hand was happy for the offer and sat down at the table. He hadn’t eaten in hours, apart from a few berries and could use a proper meal.
“Soyou speak English, then?”
“Yes.My father taught me. He was very intelligent and knew.. well, a lot ofthings..,” you smiled, in remembrance of your father.
Youfinished cooking the broth and placed it in front of him, then satdown across from him at the table and smiled.
“It’sso nice to have some company for once.. Most of the people that comehere to kill me, think I’ll eat them when I ask them to join me fordinner,” you laughed. “They think they are my dinner.”
Thespoon was almost in his mouth, but that sentence completely threw himoff balance and all the broth on the spoon dropped on his pants.
“What?Did you really think I didn’t know? I’m not as naive, as you mightthink,” you handed him a cloth and he quickly wiped away the drops ofbroth
“Well..why do you invite the people in that try to kill you?”
“Toconvince them that I’m not what they think I am. So far, you’re theonly one who dared to come in,”you stared into the bowl of food and sighed. “Shame, really. It can get incredibly lonely out here.”
Hestared at you for another long moment, before he started eating again.
Hecouldn’t do it. He wouldn’t.
Youwere no witch. Never. A witch didn’t care as much as you did. A witchwould’ve eaten him. Instead, you invited him to eat with him! That was the different between a witch and a woman.. That sounded really bad, even in Gaston’s head. He better not say that out loud.
He’dfigure out something else. Another place he could stay at.
“Youcan stay here, you know?”
Andonce more, all the broth on his spoon fell on his pants.
Didyou just..?!
“Idid..”
His jaw dropped.
“I’mdifferent from other people. But.. I’m not bad,” you fidgeted withyour fingers and waited for him to say something. To react, otherthan stare at you in disbelief. And when he didn’t, you sighed andlooked at the bow and arrow that he had placed next to the door.“What’s it going to be, then?”
Heturned his head in the same direction and then back to you.
“Whatare you?”
“Different,”you repeated. That was all you were going to say.
Finally,Gaston placed the spoon next to the bowl and kept staring into your (Y/E/C) eyes.
Afterwhat felt like hours for you, he got up and walked over to his bow and arrow,picking it up.
Yougulped and smiled sadly. You had hoped he’d be different. But youwere incorrect, it seemed. And now, you had to kill him after all.
Insteadof taking an arrow and aiming it at your head, he turned towards you.
“Wherecan I store this, then? If I’m to live here, I shouldn’t leave it outin the open.”
Yoursad smile turned into a laugh and you relaxed instantly.
Hegave you a chance.
Someone,finally gave you a chance.
***
“Areyou ready?” he asked, looking down at you, a content smile on hisface, that you gladly matched your own.
“Have been from the very beginning.”
Hepicked you up like the bride you were on that day and carried youover the threshold of your house.
Youlaughed and placed a chaste kiss on his lips.
“Wellthen, husband, I might be able to read your mind, but I’d still liketo hear it from you. Would you please carry me over to the bed and do wicked things to me?”
Loke had overthought this a lot. But there was to him no other alternative. In an untypical act of cowardice he dared to send a message - at least handwritten and no hologram - to the Spider.
Lady Natasha,I do not know how to begin this note, so let me be straight ahead to get it out:The bigger my family, the more I do seek secure for them.I do need a well trained privat guard in my household, who is able to act just like a family member or friend. Like a godmother or aunt.It is to look after (soon) four children of royal blood. I can assure the salary wilst be immensely and even more, as long my children can call thee aunt Tasha without getting brushes.
Sincerly, Loke
PS: Thor knows how to find me.
Without a second thought Loke send the message away with an spell, to be sure it wilst arrive the shield head quarter.
I'm an AFAB Non-binary person and it really suck when my guy friends say shit like "i respect you don't identify as either male or female, but you have to acknowledge that you were born a girl" or "i get that you're non-binary, but people don't see the mental and emotional stuff and you're physically still a girl" and my guy friends barely use or try to use my pronouns (they/them), still call me a girl/woman, and don't use my chosen name (Sage) at all. Patience with this is hard.
What I would like, more than anything, is to respond to this with, “Drown them,” and leave it at that, but I don’t think that would be truly helpful to you.
If your “friends” are acknowledging your identity and actively refusing to respect it, then they’re not your friends. Stand up for yourself, and put your foot down. Tell them, in no uncertain terms, that if they won’t respect your identity and your pronouns, then you can’t be friends, and you won’t be acknowledging them as such anymore. Then, most importantly, follow through with it. Stop hanging out with them, don’t text them back, don’t acknowledge them when you pass them in the hallway.
In short, if they won’t treat you with respect and basic human dignity, adopt the “Dead To Me” policy. These boys are not acting like your friends, they’re not your friends.
They’re refusing, actively, to treat you like a person. Return the favor. Treat them like they don’t exist.
Fanfic Request: You and Gaston happily married with children (all the romantic fluffiness!).
i told myself i needed to write a fic BUT I WAS LIKE “HEADCANONS INSTEAD”
Living in the countryside away from the hustle bustle of village life. Probably a simple far, a place where Gaston can clear his head and be himself without having to worry or put up a facade for others. He loves it really, and he wouldn’t ask for anything else.
A place where he can literally put his feet up (You only rub them when you feel like it, he doesn’t actually pressure you to do it). A place where he can enjoy a beer in silence. A place where he can think and be with the things that matter to him.
The two of you are always up early enough to watch the sun rise. Imagine sitting beside Gaston, watching the sky change color in front of you. He wraps his arms around you and tugs you closer. A small kiss is placed to your forehead. A few more minutes before your children wake up, he thinks. That’s all he needed. Was a few more minutes alone with you in quiet and peace.
Imagine the two of you being lucky enough to have a boy and a girl.
Gaston loves them so freaking much, and actually, they look a lot like him. Dark hair(thick hair), same skin tone and they both happen to have his stubbornness. (Which can cause problems sometimes.) Gaston actually fights you on this sometimes(Playfully) and tells you that they look a lot more like you, “I can see your smile in theirs when they laugh”. Rolling your eyes teasingly, you kiss his lips softly and whisper, “You old romantic.”
Imagine him tangling flowers into his daughters hair after she asks him to do it. He knows he’s not good at it but he still tries. She gives him a warm kiss to his cheek when he finishes and she scurries off to show you. “Momma, momma look what papa did!!” You look down at her, smiling brightly, “It’s so pretty.” You brush a stray hair out of her face, “Your papa is so good at that, huh? He puts them in my hair too.”She nods happily and looks back at Gaston with an even wider smile. He feels his heart melt.
She probably convinces him to let her put flowers in his hair too. Just imagine that. She looks at him sternly, grasps the sides of his face and brings his head down enough so she can reach his hair. You’re standing off to the side, watching him with your son in your lap. Laughing quietly, you urge her to continue. Gaston gives you a playful glare. “I hope those are purple flowers. Purple is a good color for me.” He says to his daughter with a small laugh. Your son joins in eventually and he starts putting flowers in Gaston’s hair, coordinating with his sister as to what color he needed.
Imagine Gaston taking his son hunting. But, while preparing, his daughter comes up and asks if she can come as well. After talking to you, and you agreeing, he takes both of them with him. Imagine his son holding onto the back of Gaston’s jacket and holding his sisters hand while they track. Both of them are super invested.
Imagine them coming back and your son is literally about to bounce off the walls because he actually managed to shoot a duck. Your daughter is resting on Gaston’s shoulders as she got tired on the way home.You take her carefully, rocking her back to sleep as she stirred with the movement as Gaston places a gentle kiss to your cheek before beaming proudly.“He’s going to be a good hunter, just like his father.” He looks at your son, still going on and on about what he had done. You see his father in his personality.
Gaston tells them about his time during the War before bedtime. Says it’s their bedtime story. You usually sit and listen.
“When I was younger,” He pauses and reflects, “much younger….”
Your son gets so excited hearing about it because wow, his father was a hero.
Your daughter on the other hand, likes the ending when Gaston explains how he met you and how he fell in love with you after the War and how you bring out the best in him and how much he really does love you and them.
“Your mother was so...” He has to think about his word choice, “Beautiful... Gorgeous... She swept me away and hasn’t let me life a day without her beauty ever since.”
Monitoring your PDA because your kids do not appreciate it when you kiss each other in front of them.
Your son pretends to gag and your daughter yelling at you to “STOP KISSING.”
Sufficing on gazes, small kisses to the cheek and Gaston wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you closer until the kids are put to bed.
I was about to say ‘don’t get me started on domestic Gaston’ but get me started please.
Absolutely a man who tries to cook you breakfast for your birthday but almost burns down the entire house. He just doesn’t cook often enough to know. He ends up getting help from the kids, and things turn out okay. (He only burned it a little).
Probably tries to do the dishes here and there too(Especially when he’s sucking up to you). Always tells you, “That’s a really good workout for your arms. I’m surprised they’re not as big as mine.” You roll your eyes, flexing your arm teasingly. “Aren’t they?”
You asking him to help you with cleaning the house and doing the laundry, and for a second he looks at you like “who do you think you’re talking to?” but the glare you give him back gets him to agree and he ends up helping the kids take the laundry outside to dry.
Gaston lifting up your daughter as she pins clothes to the line to dry. Your son tugs on his shirt, begging to be picked up too.
When you go out to check on them, the basket of laundry is still sitting there and Gaston is on his back, the two kids on top of him. They’re all laughing. Gaston catches eyes with you, “They’ve got me pinned, (Name). I can’t move!”
It’s late at night and the two of you had just put the kids to sleep after what seemed like hours of wrestling them into bed in the first place. You sigh softly, gazing at your love before making your way to the kitchen to clean and put away dishes before bed. Gaston looks at his children a few seconds longer before following you.Leaning against the doorway between the kitchen and living space, he smiles slightly, “I know I told you that two children were enough for me, but have you ever thought…?”“About having another one?” You asked, finishing his sentence. Tilting your head to the side, you could feel the heat hit your face. “I wouldn’t mind… three more even.”He smirks softly, making his way towards you. Kissing the back of your neck and then the shell of your ear, he murmurs to you, “Three? A bit too eager, are you?”
MMMM BOI I HOPE THOSE WERE OKAY. if you liked them, i can make more! Thank you for reading! Reblogs and likes are appreciated!
