Vanilla Writes

This is the blog where I’ll post any of my writing every three years• link to AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vanillamaa/works • link to main blog: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/vanillamaa

[faebirdie]

Minimal Loss

Pairing: Spencer Reid/female!Reader

Category: Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Words: 5,850

Warnings: Talk of child abuse and pedophilia, minor torture, death of a child, death generally, an explosion

Requested: Yes! By the wonderful @ficrambles​. She asked for a high stress fic, so I decided to write a retelling of one of my favorite episodes of the show with the inclusion of a reader. I hope you enjoy, darling!

Prompts: “I’m ok. Let me see your face.”

Summary: Spencer is surprised to see a familiar face when he goes undercover as a Child Protection Officer in a cult in Colorado. Based of of Season 4 Episode 3: Minimal Losses. Credit for much of the dialogue goes to the writers of this episode.

A/N’s: Man, I really love this episode. There was so much good material to work with.

             Spencer and Y/N’s relationship was one that absolutely had to be based on trust. Each of them had jobs that required keeping secrets from each other. His time at the BAU left him with a lot of confidential information and hers as an investigative journalist required her to keep quiet about many a sensitive matter. And they were alright with that. As long as they were both honest with each other when it came to the important things, like their feelings and needs and problems, then the work stuff didn’t matter. What really mattered was how much they cared for each other. Which is why she was fine with him not being able to tell her about many of his cases and why he didn’t question in when she told him that she would have to go to Colorado for a bit, and that she would only be able to communicate occasionally through her partner.

Keep reading

[id-never-letyoudown]

Anyways, Geralt can't just leave Jaskier now. And Nana insists they talk. "If you two don't talk things out and figure what to do, I'm going to bash my head in." So they do. Out in the barn.

"Why didn't you tell me?" "I didn't know, Geralt. You know, even if I had I wouldn't have told you. You made your stance on me pretty clear last we saw each other."

"I hope you know this doesn't make us mates." "Of course it doesn't. Not going to force you to make an 'honest' omega out of me. Besides, you have your head too far up that mage's backside." "Don't bring her into this." "I will bring her into this. I-don't like her!" "... And?" "There is no 'and', I don't like her. I don't trust her. And she hasn't given me reason to." "She saved your life." "Oh, yes! I'm sorry, hard to remember that when she scared the daylights out of me, probably would have killed me! Brought the damn house down with you in it. Which she has yet to apologise for, oh-unless you call what you two were doing in the rubble 'apology'. Then everything's good and well!" "... You done?" "Not even. For a man who doesn't 'feel' she sure broke your heart, and I just got caught in the crossfire. Two hearts were broken that day, Witcher. And you were only concerned with yours."

"I'd compose a song about that woman if I had my damned lute." Jaskier growls, turning to Roach. Who had been nudging his arm throughout his spiel. "Now you, you I could never be angered with." He coos, stroking the horse's nose. "I don't have any sugar cubes to sneak you today."

"Where is that lute? And why haven't you been at the tavern?" That lute had been practically glued to Jaskier from the start. And now he stiffens at the mention of it.

"... I sold it." He turns, one hand still on Roach's side. "I... was scared when I found out about... you know. So I scrapped together all the coin I could. I wanted to be rid of it. And the rest of the coin was to keep the mage's lips sealed. And obviously I didn't go through with it. Damn thing. Got attached. Bastard kept my coin."

Long story short, Geralt visits Jaskier as much as he can. And they slowly rebuild their? Somewhat friendship. Eventually Geralt brings him a lute. And Jaskier cries when he tunes it. "Thank you, Geralt."

He doesn't stop singing until his voice is hoarse. Starts performing at the tavern again, just until his bump becomes too noticable under his layers.

[vanillamawrites]

In a Field of Green

The fields outside of Rome were so green and beautiful that Pyhrra could forget almost all of her troubles. The dangerous game she plays with Marc Antony, her lust to avenge the death of her village and people, the anxiety when Syphax had to fight for his life in the arena, all of it. Just so she can enjoy her time with the beautiful woman next to her.

Sabina plucked one of the wildflowers from the ground, twirling it in between her thumb and forefinger, smiling serenely.

“How wonderful it is today,” she says. “Almost as if Jupiter himself is keeping the skies clear for us.”

“Well who wouldn’t for a woman as radiant as you?” Pyhrra said and smiled as Sabina’s cheeks flushed.

“Such flattery Pyhrra.” She says, smiling and Pyhrra laughs.

“Is it truly flattery if it’s true?” She asks.

Sabina’s laugh was as soft as wind chimes and Pyhrra thinks no one can compare to Sabina’s beauty. Her dark hair swaying softly in the gentle breeze, the sun shining on her tan skin painting a true picture of beauty and grace.

“If you call me radiant then I must say that you are glowing Pyhrra,” Sabina says and reaches out to gently thread their fingers together where they laid on the ground.

Pyrrha relished this. Just her and Sabina. It feels like they were the only people in the world. No murder plots, no conniving games, just the feeling of Sabina’s soft fingers against her own.

Sabina gently leaned forward, a sigh coming through her lips. “I wish we could do this all the time.” She murmured.

Pyhrra sighed and nodded in agreement. Now that Legate Aquila is back in Rome it is much more difficult for Sabina to feel at ease, to feel free from his clutches. At least when he was in war, he could do her no harm. Not for the first time Pyrrha can’t wait to exact her vengeance against Legate Aquila, not only for her people and her family but for Sabina as well.

Pyhrra brought her free hand up and softly cupped Sabina’s cheek. “One day, I will free you from that man Sabina and you shall be free from him. This I promise you.”

“I know Pyhrra, but be careful for Legate Aquila is a dangerous man. I... I cannot bear to see you hurt.” She said, kissing the inside of Pyhrra’s wrist and looking at her earnestly.

“And I cannot bear to see you suffer under him either. I swear to you Sabina no harm shall come to you while I breath.” Pyhrra vowed.

Sabina smiled so brilliantly at her that Pyhrra swore her breath stopped. “Thank you Pyrrha. The gods must surely be watching over me If I have someone like you at my side. With you, I feel so strong and confident.”

Pyrrha leaned forward as did Sabina. Their lips barely brushed as she spoke. “You already are Sabina. You don’t need me.”

“Such a lie Pyhrra.” She giggled before pressing her soft lips against Pyhrra’s own.

Sabina’s hand cupped the back of her neck bringing her closer and Pyhrra’s fingers slid from her cheek to tangle themselves in Sabina’s dark curls. The kiss was soft but full of love, security and promises and Pyhrra wished she could spend an eternity in this field of green, simply to spend time with Sabina.

Because Sabina was strong as she was beautiful. So brave and confident in her own right and still so hopeful despite everything that has befallen her. And Pyhrra could never get enough of her.

Soon air became a necessity and they parted, shooting each other soft smiles and sharing short quick pecks.

“You are a goddess Pyhrra.” Sabina said softly.

Pyhrra pressed one quick kiss on Sabina’s forehead.

“As are you Sabina.”

A beautiful and powerful goddess.

[fandomsficsandfeels-deactivated]

Omg this is such a cute prompt! I planned on this just being a drabble, but if y’all know me at all, it isn’t 500 words lol. I hope you like this!

                                                          o0o0o

Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

“Kid, can you knock it off? Trying to focus here,” Mr. Stark said, sitting in front of a mass of metal, circuit boards, and wires. Mr. Stark had said that he was optimizing something in one of his suits, but Peter had no idea what he was actually doing. It all looked like absolute chaos, but Mr. Stark didn’t seem to be phased by it at all. Peter sighed and threw the ball against the floor one last time, catching it easily when it ricocheted off the wall and back toward his hand.

“Fine. I’m just so bored,” Peter said, lifting himself up to sit on the neat workbench in front of Mr. Stark’s cluttered one.

“You’re sitting in one of the most technologically advanced labs in the country, heck maybe even in the world, and you’re bored,” Mr. Stark commented dryly, not breaking his focus on the wires he was soldering together. “You never cease to amaze me, Underoos.”

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[stefansunshine]

happy birthday

prompt ;; your birthday is well-spent.

warnings ;; reader’s bday, soulmate!au

a/n ;; ❤️❤️

TAGLIST: @moonkissedtom , @myfriendmagislit , @johnmulaneyslut , @theroyalbrownbarbie , @sgfgclifford , @bisexual-jesus-jr , @stressy-stefan

“Stefan, this is ridiculous. I mean, a blindfold, really? I almost tripped two times!”

Stefan giggles, the sound so adorable that you can’t help the smile that raises to your face. “I know, I know, but just a few more steps and…. Ta-da~~~”

Your house lights are in shades of blue and purple with pictures of you two everywhere. There’s mini decorations, a big “Happy Birthday!” sign right in front of you and soft dance music playing in the background. Some of your closest friends are there, including Colin, Kitty and their now two year old daughter Pearl, who runs up to you and hugs your waist as soon as she sees you, which catches the attention of her parents.

“Happy birthday Y/N!” Kitty says as she hugs you over her daughter and kisses your forehead, a dark red lipstick stain being left behind on her skin. She turns around and takes three bag from Colin, handing it to you from a smile. “These are for you.”

“Oh, Kitty, you shouldn’t have.” you coo at her, giggling as you hug her once again.

“She really shouldn’t have,” Colin’s deep, monotone voice rings out, making you both look at him in confusion. “Those gifts cost me nearly two-hundred dollars, and I hate throwing money down the drain.”

Before you two of Stefan could respond, he breaks out into a grin, something you don’t see on his face very often. “Kidding. Happy birthday. Enjoy your gifts.”

The party goes by well. You manage to get a little tipsy and dance with some friends and Stefan, who treats you all throughout the night. When ten thirty hits the party is over, and you kiss your friends’ cheeks as you say goodbye to them. There’s almost a pile of gifts near the couch and you walk into your boyfriend’s arms, who starts to lead you upstairs.

“I have one final gift for you,” he whispers, chuckling at your groan. “Trust me, you’ll like it. I promise.”

Opening the door to the mini office he has in your house, your face heats up at how decorated the room is in your favorite colors. Looking closely at his computer, there seems to be a game loading screen with “Start Here, Y/N” on the bottom of the screen. There’s a silhouette of two figures kissing on a bridge, and you start to remember the time you took that picture with the male.

“It’s just a mini game I made you,” he says, brushing sweat from your forehead as he smiles down at your curious eyes. “It’s about how we met. Come on, press play.”

It opens with Stefan’s silhouette and a big text bubble next to his fluffy head of hair. “As a child, when my parents told me about the concept of soulmates, how there’s someone out there for everyone and you’ll find the right one eventually, I did not believe him. But, when I met you three years ago, all the symptoms came to me when I saw your face.”

Then comes in you. The screen pans down to Stefan’s sweaty palms, fast beating heart, his heart eyes. You get to choose what he says to you and, remembering that moment like it was yesterday, you choose correctly.

The game is just you and him on a screen. Experiencing how Stefan sees you from his own point of view is amazing, and you find yourself chuckling at some of the things he thinks, blushing, or falling even deeper in love.

But what really surprises you is when it comes to now, to this moment. Your heart picks up when the two choices appear at the bottom of the screen.

Propose.

Kiss her goodnight.

“Stefan…” you whisper, and he shakes his head, hands sliding down your shoulders.

“Just choose, my love.”

You click propose.

And just like that, Stefan is down on one knee, opening a box with a beautiful gold ring placed inside. His cheeks are red as he confesses his love to you, his hands slightly shaking, while all you can really do is cry.

The computer dings.

Now, it’s you. His camera is on, and you’re looking back at your own face with two choices underneath.

Yes.

No.

“There’s no one else I would be with, Y/N,” Stefan finishes, licking his lips nervously. ‘I…I love you.”

You click yes so hard the mouse almost breaks.

[suncitydanvers-deactivated20190]

Can you pls write a little thing about Stefan Butler asking reader out? Like maybe she works with him or something?

Pairing: Stefan Butler x Female!Reader

Show: Black Mirror: Bandersnatch

————

The bright screen was the only source of light in the entire office. Being the only female game programmer at Tuckersoft meant that you had to do things ten times better than what Colin Ritman was doing or what the new programmer - Stefan Butler - was doing, just to be noticed by your boss, Mohan Thakur. And that meant staying late at night in the office; all alone without a soul in the office.

Or that was what you thought.

You were typing away on the keyboard when you heard a loud grumble followed by a slam against - what you could assume was - a desk. Your hands completely stops to a halt; eyes widening as your hands quietly scramble to find an object that could be used as protection against the burglar.

Grabbing the pepper spray from your sling bag, you quickly remove your feet from your high heels before sliding quietly out of your chair. Moving as fast and quietly as possible, you followed the sound of metal cluttering & soft mutterings coming from the dimly lit break room. 

As you neared the break room, all you could see was a tall, dark shadowy figure with their back to you. Not knowing what to do you started screaming as your fingers pressed on the can of pepper spray, spraying it everywhere with your eyes covered with your other hand. This elicited angry shouts and swearing from the being in front of you. 

“Fuck, fucking hell, STOP!”  

His shouts and the way it slipped out from his lips; all tensed on the jaw and a hint of gruffness mixed with molasses pouring out from his mouth made something snap in your brain.

“Stefan?!” you gasped in a questioning tone as you moved your way towards him in a rush, the can of pepper spray already slipped from your fingers. “I’m so so so sorry, darling.”

“Y/-Y/N?” he stuttered, voice suddenly all timid and quiet; a contrast from how loud and angry he was. “Wh-what are y-you doing here this l-la-late at night?”

“I could ask you the same thing Stefan,” you replied, quickly bringing his left arm around your shoulders with your other arm wrapped around his torso as you gently dragged the squinty man towards his desk. 

Plopping him down onto his chair, you gently tug his hands away from his eyes only for him to yelp in pain before shaking his head; his shaggy hair flopping as he does this and you couldn’t deny the fact that he was cute. Quickly pushing the thoughts about him from your mind, you gently tug his hands again, and this time he surrendered, dropping his hands to his sides.

Your eyes widen and your lips closed shut as you tried not to scream again. Stefan’s eyelids were tightly shut and from what you could see with bright light coming from his computer screenn, his eyelids were covered in splotches of red. His pale cheeks now turning a little pink, probably from the effects of the pepper spray.

“D-does it look bad?” You whimpered a nope as you shook your head. “I’m gu-gu-guessing it looks r-really bad.”

“Nope, definitely not but I’m just gonna get a pack of ice from the fridge and I’ll return to you in a hot minute,” you quickly said before rushing to get ice for his eyes.

You came back as soon as you’ve gotten the ice pack, bringing along a cup of cold water just in case he needs to wash his eyes with it. You quickly but softly pressed the ice pack to his eyelids only for him to whimper in pain which made you instantly retract it from his eyes.

“I’m so sorry oh my goodness,” you yelped at his whimper, teeth nibbling on your bottom lip.

“No, no, it’s okay Y/N, it just stings a little,” he tried to reassure you as his hands blindly move from his side to find your hands that were tightly holding the wet ice pack.

As Stefan’s hands touched yours, you nearly squealed with delight while your stomach did a somersault. He gently grasp it in his hands; the warmth from his palm made you forget how freezing cold your hands were due to the ice pack. “Wh-what are you doing?”

It was your turn to stutter as your voiced hitched a little; not knowing if you wanted him to let go of your hands.

“Ju-just finding the ice pack,” your mouth formed an “o” shape, forgetting that he needed the ice pack.

“Sorry,” you mumbled as you handed it in his hands before guiding it to his eyes. “I thought I’d be the only one here this late.”

“Me too,” he softly sighs. “Uhhh, what are you doing here at this timing?”

“I was just working on my project,” you answered as you softly smack your lips together (a habit of yours when you got bored). “You?”

“Same,” his voice, though deep & scratchy, was something so different from the voices you’ve been so used to listening to. It wasn’t as loud as the noises you’ve gotten used to; with him everything was soft & sweet.

“I’m sorry Stef,” you whispered. You watched as he removed the ice pack from his eye lids before blinking the wetness away.

Stefan looked at you with his squinted eyes. He blinked a couple of times, trying to force his eyes to open wide but to no avail.

“It’s alright Y/N,” his voice was reassuring and sincere. “I know you didn’t mean to.”

“I definitely did not mean to hurt those beautiful emerald eyes of yours,” your mouth quickly clamp shut and so did your eyes as you mentally slammed your head against the desk wanting to already get out of this mess. There’s something about Stefan that always made you a giddy mess in front of him, and honestly it was ruining your reputation. “I’m-I’m gonna go.”

Though you didn’t mind it one bit.

“Y-y-you think my eyes are beautiful?” Stefan shyly asked, making you peek at him with one eyes.

The bright light from the computer screen made his pink cheeks a slightly deeper shade. You felt your heart stop for a second when you saw that a toothy grin had made its way to his face; it was the firt time you had seen Stefan smile and you couldn’t deny that he looked so mind blowingly beautiful.

“Yes,” you nodded your head in embarrassment as you chewed the inside of your cheeks. “I just have this um, cr-crush on you since you entered the office with your cute shaggy hair and how your brown leather jacket looks a little bigger on you than it should. I’m rambling and I think I should go.”

Stefan blinked a little, trying to process what you had just poured at him. He never thought that someone so talented and brilliant like you could ever have a crush on him but here he is, the person he has a crush on too is now confessing to him.

“No, please stay,” Stefan quickly says, his hand already trying to reach out for you only to quickly put his hand back to his side. “I mean I- uh, never had anyone uh, tell me that they think my eyes are um beautiful.”

Stefan scratches the back of his head before looking at the glaring lights. Shutting his eyes for a second, he shook his head before opening them to meet your gaze.

“I’ve-I’ve never done this but uhm, wo-would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow after work?” He stammers slightly as he curls his lips.

“Like a date?” You asked, half teasing, half hoping for it to be true.

“Yes,” Stefan drags the s for a little longer before composing himself. “Yes, a date.”

You nodded your head quickly, a smile tugging at your lips as you softly sucked in a breath. “I’d like that a lot.”

tagging: @stardustparker @starksmile @likechadwick @tomhollandeu

[stefansunshine]

overthink

prompt ❧ stefan is having a bit of trouble with a game.

warnings ❧ none uwu

a/n ❧ this was originally posted on @sseunnii, my main blog, but i made a separate blog since everyone enjoyed it so much!!

A piece of paper being crumpled up from across the room makes your shoulders tense, your hands gripping the book in your lap tightly as you glance over to the side of the room.

Stefan is sitting there, breathing heavily while holding the paper so tight his knuckles turn whiter than they already are. His back is hunched over his desk and a whimper seems to leave him as he grips the paper even tighter. In an instant you’re up, making your way over to the male, your hand sliding down the side of his face.

“What’s wrong, love?” you ask him and he only shudders before pressing his head into your stomach. When you look further you can see there are tears sliding down his pretty face, and it breaks your heart.

“Every time I think I have it right, it goes wrong,” he says softly, voice cracking as you wipe a tear from under his eye. “There’s… too many… holes. Too many inconsistencies. And I don’t know how to fix all of them,” he sucks in a breath, pressing his wet face to your stomach. “So, I’m a bit… u-upset.”

“Hmm,” you hum before moving around him, your body in his lap. He tenses, still a bit shy even this far on in your relationship but accepts the weight, pressing his face into your hair. ‘Let me see.”

Minutes pass. Having you on him like this, feeling your warmth-it’s calming. Almost makes him fall asleep, until you’re bristling against him, unbaling the piece of paper and kissing his heated temple.

“You know what I think?” you ask, grinning at him and he can’t help but smile back at you. “I think you’re overthinking this. The entire thing makes perfect sense. Every question you’ve written down here has an answer.”

“R-Really?” he stutters, blushing before going back over his work. After clearing out his mind, he sees that he really was thinking about things way too much. He sighs, an arm around your waist as he rests his head on your chest. “Sorry. I just wasn’t paying attention.”

When your fingers suddenly find his scalp, scratching at it gently as you listen to him, his whole body goes rigid. Noticing his discomfort, you stop, raising your eyebrows when his arm suddenly tightens around your waist.

“Don’t stop,” he murmurs into your chest and you smile at his cuteness. “It… feels… nice.”

“Does it?” you ask softly, continuing to play with his hair, giggling when he shivers violently due to your fingers sliding down to your neck, playing with the hair there. “I didn’t know you liked your hair being played with.”

You’re standing up and he follows after you like a puppy, your bodies slotting together on your bed. Your book is off to the side as you wrap your arms around him, both hands in his hair, making him groan in appreciation into your neck.

“You’re too cute,” you coo at him, suddenly pulling his head back so he’s looking at you. His eyes are half lidded and they close entirely when you press your lips in a warm kiss, his body relaxing entirely in your hold. He chases your lips sleepily when you pull away and you kiss his nose. “I love you.”

His eyes do open this time, giving you a lopsided grin, the green looking so enchanting in the dim light of your lamp. “I… I love you too, Y/N.”

“Now get some sleep,” you tell him, reaching over to turn off the lamp, covering you both with the blanket on your bed. It only takes a few moments of playing with his shaggy hair for him to fall asleep, softly snoring against your skin, and your smile can’t grow any wider.

[monkey21fei-blog]

Here for you.

[doctormanfan-deactivated2019112]

Yall out here hurting my heart

[iwritefanficsometimes]

prompt: Ironstrange+newyear's kiss

(I knew this prompt was coming and I’m still not prepared. Hopefully it’s still before midnight in your time zone. If not… Happy New Year! Have some Domestic Avengers to celebrate)

It’s Stephen and Tony’s first New Year with the baby and after the fiasco that was Christmas with Stephen’s parents and the Avengers in turn, they had resolved to just take a break from the whole holiday season and were spending New Years Eve at home, alone. Peter was tucked away in a soundproofed room of Tony’s own design to keep the noise of fireworks in the distance from waking him. Stephen and Tony were sitting in front of the big window with Peter’s baby monitor displayed on the wall beside them and The Twilight Zone playing on Tony’s gigantic television. Neither of them are really paying attention, just training their eyes on it in a fugue while Tony played with the Cloak and Stephen ran shaky fingers through Tony’s hair.

Tony went limp in Stephen’s lap by 9:30, and when his phone buzzed in his hand Stephen grabbed it before it could wake his husband. It was the Avenger’s chat, more pictures of people having a good time. Sam and Bucky draped over each other, singing something the picture doesn’t capture. The caption is Natasha’s “It’s too early for sloppy drunks. Someone deal with them.” The next message is from Steve and it says, “You’re the one who decided to ask Thor to bring mead, they’re your problem.” Natasha’s reply was quick, “The mead wasn’t for them you dry centenial.”

Stephen took the liberty to let them know that Tony wasn’t ignoring them and added his two cents, “I’m removing Tony from this chat before the notifications wake him up. Enjoy your drunk soldiers Natasha.”

“I won’t. You get some sleep, Dads. Kiss Peter for me.”

“Of course”

Tony has left the chat

Stephen laid Tony’s phone down on the table, knowing that he’d ask for the highlights in the morning when everyone was cranky and hung over and petty. In the mean time he makes a portal into their bedroom to retrieve the plush blanket that had been a gift from Stephen’s parents, the only bedding they owned that wasn’t obnxious. He draped the warm gray fabric over Tony, and grabbed a pillow for himself, since with Tony’s head in his lap it didn’t look like he was moving anytime soon. Once he was settled he fell asleep quickly, not even bothering to finish out the episode.

The fireworks kick into high gear at about 11:30 and wake Stephen up, but Tony’s turned around, nose buried in Stephen’s hip, so he’s ignorant of the flashing lights. He runs his fingers through his husband’s hair and starts to fall back asleep when Peter’s monitor starts flashing red. He’s awake. Stephen sighs, knowing he has to get up, even though he doesn’t want to wake Tony, who hadn’t been getting enough sleep even before they adopted Peter. He extracts himself from beneth Tony, leaving a pillow in his place. Tony stirs, but Stephen strokes his hair and shushes him until he goes back to sleep.

Stephen gets a bottle ready and brings it to Peter’s room, so his crying doesn’t wake Tony. He pokes his head in an his infant son briefly stops crying before continuing again. “Hey, sleepy head. You ready for a bottle?” Stephen picks Peter up and sniffs him, wrinkling his nose. “And maybe a diaper change.” He puts Peter down on the changing pad and as soon as he does he nods to himself, “definately a diaper change.

By the time Peter is changed, fed and burped it’s nearly midnight. Stephen lays Peter down in the crib and he continues to wiggle for a few minutes before his eyes finally blink closed and he drifts to sleep. Stephen smiles at sleeping baby, caught once again by how much he loves their tiny son, when he hears someone open the door. He knows it’s Tony because he feels the shorter man plaster himself to Stephen’s back. “He’s so cute.” Tony whispers, and Stephen smiles.

“Yeah, he is. He’ll be even cuter when he starts sleeping through the night.”

“Absense does make the heart grow fonder.” He rests his chin on Stephen’s shoulder and wraps his arms around his waist. His watch starts to vibrate and Stephen looks down at the dim display. 12:00.

Stephen turned to give Tony a midnight kiss and Tony smiled before he could return it. “Happy New Year, babe.”

“Happy New Year, Tony. I think this year is going to be a great one.”

Tony nuzzled his cold nose against Stephen’s neck, a smile unhidden on his lips, “Yeah, I think you might be right.”

(Happy New Year, ya’ll. To a better 2019)

Prompt Me!

[thesesummersonspoet]

HOW TO SPEAK WRITER: 

“my characters have a mind of their own!” - no i’m not mad and yes i know i made them up but i have no idea what’s happening anymore please save me

“i’m going to write today!” - i’d actually rather wash the garden path but the house is already pristine and i’ve run out of excuses

 “this is still a rough draft so go easy on me!” - i have spent what feels like forever pouring my very soul into this but i worry it’s terrible and if you’re mean i may just cry

“i’ll update soon!” - this is utterly killing me, i don’t know how to read anymore, what are words, help 

“i just had this idea and had to share it with you guys!” - this has taken me three weeks and countless hours please love and appreciate it

“feedback appreciated :D” - please, i live for validation! i need comments!! 

[kiro125]

Lissa the Pure Joy!

[moved-to-ofswordsandpens]

I adore rick riordan but if anyone still has doubt on how he can have such big potholes in his stories, let me remind you that this man was originally going to title the Lightning Thief “The Son of Poseidon” and it was his middle school class that pointed out that if he named it that that the “mysterious and unknown identity” of Percy’s godly heritage would no longer be mysterious and unknown and rick was like “oh, yeah.” 

[captainlordauditor]

#listen. sometimes when your writing youre too close to see shit

[vanillamawrites]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[vanillamawrites]

A Damned Universe

The universe is really big, Tony thinks.

A large and vast space inhabited by stars, planets, black holes, and aliens of every size and shape.

A space so large you feel comforted when you know that there are other living beings that live in your same universe.

So why did he feel so alone?

Probably due to the fact that Thanos won and wiped out have of all life in the universe, that definitely sucked. Maybe it’s due to the crushing and hollow feeling that settled in his chest after the battle was over. Maybe it was due to the fact that Tony watched his companions turn to dust one by one. Maybe it was due to— “I don’t wanna go...”

The crushing feeling in his chest is stronger now.

Tony’s breath came short and shallow as he watched the blinking stars drift by as the ship floated, drifting endlessly through space. 

Food and water ran out two days ago, oxygen would run out in a week and Tony had no hope for rescue. This wasn’t his first brush with death of course. There was Afghanastan, New York, and space was just another death trap in Tony’s life. 

Tony wonders why the universe is so determined to keep him alive. Why keep him alive whern there are other people so much better than him? Why won’t it just let him die?

People like Pepper, Rhodey, Peter, even that damned wizard doctor. Of all people, why him?

Pepper, god he didn’t even know if she survived... 

And Peter... oh god Peter. 

The kid— no, his kid, Tony knew he should’ve turned around when Peter was on board, he shouldn’t have put Peter in danger, then maybe...

... maybe it wouldn’t have made a difference.

But it was just so unfair. Peter was sixteen, he had a whole life ahead of him (if somehow he survives, what is he going to tell May?) and was so much better than him. Peter was everything Tony wasn’t at his age. It was absolute bullshit that the universe decided that Tony Stark deserved to live and Peter didn’t. 

Tony took a shuddering breath of the already thinning air, and suddenly thought maybe it was better that Peter wasn’t stuck in this death trap with him, suffering from dehydration and hunger pains.

Tony just wished he wasn’t so alone.

Nebula wasn’t much for conversation, caught up in her own grieving. Tony understood and leaves her to her own brooding. 

He’d take anyone at this point, any reassurance he wasn’t alone. Rogers, Romanoff, Rhodey, anyone. Even that annoyingly snarky wizard (Strange his brain supplied) he fought with on Titan. 

(Tony wonders what Strange saw in those fourteen million six hundred and five futures to think that trading the time stone was worth saving Tony’s life.)

And despite his best efforts, a sob built up and tears begin to to form in his eyes as his body begins to shake. He wheezes, sobs racking his body as he cried for those lost and for those he lost.

All the while cursing the universe for letting him live.

[jbzxls-deactivated20200811]

Tom got stabbed in the shoulder, smashed through a glass door by a monster elk, battered into a wall, thrown through a window and had his face smashed into the deck by Astrid.

And after all that he’s still standing.

What is he made of?

[damiennazario]

husband material

[anlashokk-deactivated20190509]

fix me or conflict me (i’ll take anything)

▸⠀⠀pairing — ajay x fem!mc, justine jenkins.

▹⠀⠀warnings — none!

▸⠀⠀summary — in which ajay’s own rules are broken by himself; or, ajay’s perspective on the later parts of the night they got locked in.

▹⠀⠀word count — 2.07k

▸⠀⠀author’s note — this is basically what happened when the mc “barely remembers stumbling back to the auditorium” but in ajay’s point of view. also i’m really hurt about the recent chapter so this came to fruition lmao- and, uh, if you want to be tagged (bold of me to assume anyone’s reading this) you could give me an ask or a message!

UNDER THE IDEAL CIRCUMSTANCES, Ajay would be at home poring over his trigonometry homework and reviewing yet another one of his failed exams for the Monday test — even if he was quite aware that no amount of reviewing could salvage his sheer lack of skill in trigo. But at least he would be trying, right? At least, under those ideal circumstances, he would be doing something lovely and productive with the crucial fifty hours gifted to him before all hell broke loose.

This was, as far as the word ‘ideal’ meant, not an ideal circumstance.

Keep reading

[vanillamawrites]

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