Passionatefanficgirl - Welcome To My Overactive Imagination

Reblog if it's OK for other artists to draw your OCs

Sometimes I get too timid to send asks to ask. I want to see how many people are ok with artists drawing their OCs!

"I didn't comment on a fic I liked because I don't think the author would care or remember my comment anyway". fanfic writer here, I still remember comments I got on my fics from seven years ago. I still think about them and they still make me smile. your kind comments are what motivates us and what helps us keep writing.

I personally know writers who take screenshot and print out comments they got from their readers.

TL;DR comments matter to us writers more than you think. if you like a fanfic, never be shy to let the author know ♡

Reblog if you think it’s okay to platonically say “I Love You” to your friends

I fucking hate that the general response to RFK Jr's eugenist take on autistic people is "autistic people do pay taxes, autistic people do work, autistic people do date!"

Some autistic people don't and that shouldn't make them less worthy of life. Some autistic people do need constant help and support and that shouldn't make them less worthy of life.

Once again we're falling in the right wing trap of :

They make a hateful, fascist statement

Instead of focusing on the fact that it is hateful and fascist we try to show them that they are factually wrong

We throw our own allies and the most vulnerable of us under the bus in the process

We legitimise an only slightly less hateful, fascist view as we go

They have completed their goal of making us accept the still hateful, fascist second version, hurrah. What a victory.

Right now what we're getting to with that is that autistic people who can work and pay taxes are okay, and the others aren't. Fuck this shit.

Same thing happens with the people who are being deported ("they have a visa!", "they didn't even have a criminal record!" -> even if they didn't have a visa, even if they did have a criminal record, deporting them and detaining them in what's essentially a concentration camp wouldn't be okay, you absolute tools of fascism.)

Unforeseen Events (Part 2)

Summary: Things change a lot after the Battle of New York.

Warnings/tags: Mention of injuries, probably OOC Tony Stark, Bruce is a sweetheart, mention of violence, SHIELD is a terrible employer, probable medical inaccuracies

****************************************************

Pain.

That's all you know.

Pure, pulsing pain.

And noise.

Your head's full of it.

There's voices, but you can't hear what they're saying over the noise inside your head.

As the noise slowly fades, and you begin to realise that you're not dead, you force yourself to open your eyes. The light burns, but you stubbornly keep them open, determined to find out where you are, and what has happened.

Once your eyes adjust to the light, you see Steve sitting by your bed.

"Hey, Y/N. How are you feeling?"

"Sore."

"Well, that checks out, considering you've got several broken ribs, a concussion, a broken arm, and a broken leg."

Oh - that's why my arm and leg feel so heavy. A wave of panic suddenly washes over you. "Wait - how am I going to pay for all this? I don't have insurance."

There's a knock at the door, and Mr Stark pops his head in. "Hey, kid. This a good time to visit?"

You suddenly feel very tired. But you don't want to be rude, and kick him out, so you just nod.

Mr Stark hovers rather awkwardly at the side of your bed. "So - how are you feeling?"

"Sore. And tired. And I have no idea how I'm going to pay for this."

"I'm paying," says Mr Stark. "And don't protest, kid - this is the least I can do."

You don't really have the strength to argue, but even if you did, you wouldn't. After all, Mr Stark's a billionaire. He can afford to pay someone's medical bills - and you could definitely do without more debt.

"Dr Banner feels pretty bad about the whole thing," says Steve. "He looked like he was going to be sick when he found out that Hulk beat you up."

But it wasn't his fault. He tried to warn me. It was my own fault. Why does he feel bad about that?

Agent Romanoff suddenly pokes her head in. "Hey, Y/N. Good to see you're awake."

You give her a small smile and a nod.

"Guys, does Bruce know she's awake?"

Judging from the awkward looks Steve and Mr Stark give each other, he doesn't.

Agent Romanoff sighs. "You guys know better than anyone that he's been asking after her ever since he found out she was hurt."

Steve gets up. "Are you sure he's okay to?"

That's when you suddenly sink into oblivion once again. You've been fighting it ever since you woke up, but - well, you've lost.

****************************************************

When you wake up again, you feel a bit stronger, although you're still pretty tired - and you're still in pain.

As you look around the room, you see Dr Banner sitting by your bed, his head in his hands.

Your heart leaps, causing your monitor to beep.

Dr Banner jumps up, but the alarm on his face fades to relief when he sees that you're awake.

As he sits down, his shoulders slump. He looks absolutely exhausted, like he hasn't slept in days. "I'm so sorry," he says softly. "The other guy… he just - I couldn't control it…"

His voice cracks, and he stops, fighting to keep his composure. You feel a jolt when you notice how red and swollen his eyes are. He looks like he was crying for hours.

He takes a deep breath, still trying to regain his composure. "How are you feeling?"

You think for a moment. You don't want to lie to him, but you also don't want to make him feel any worse than he already does. "Sore," you finally say.

"I'm so sorry," repeats Dr Banner.

"It wasn't your fault. You tried to warn me."

"I wasn't fast enough. I just…"

You reach out with your good hand, and touch his arm. "It's fine. I didn't die."

"But you could have."

"I didn't," you repeat. Feeling like it might be better to change the subject, you add, "Where are the others?"

"They went to go get lunch," says Dr Banner. "Do you want anything?"

You pause for a moment. You're kind of hungry, but you don't want to make Dr Banner go out of his way.

He must have guessed what you're thinking, because he hastily adds, "I was gonna get something anyway, so…"

You nod. "Okay."

"What would you like?"

Once you've told him, he nods, and then almost runs out of the room.

He's back only a few minutes later, with the lunch - and Mr Stark.

"Hey, kid," says Mr Stark. "Mind if I join you?"

You glance at Dr Banner. He seems okay with it, so you nod. "You can join us."

Dr Banner sits down by your bed again, while Mr Stark stands.

"So," he says, "what do you think you're gonna do, once you're better?"

"I don't really know," you admit. "I don't really want to work for SHIELD anymore, but I can't really quit-"

"What do you mean, you can't?"

"I don't have anywhere else to go. And after the whole weapons thing, I don't really think I trust them any more."

Mr Stark raises an eyebrow. "You didn't question them before?"

"Well, no, I do - I did question stuff. But I just didn't care enough about that job, really. I joined because I wanted to be a spy, like a gadget-master, or something. But the job isn't terrible. I mean, it pays the bills."

"I thought you said you were behind on rent?"

"SHIELD isn't very regular with hiring me. Sometimes I can go months without being hired. This was my second assignment this year. That's why I'm behind on rent."

Mr Stark frowns. "So this is a regular thing?"

You nod. "Yeah."

"Well, that's not fair," says Dr Banner. "That's not right. SHIELD shouldn't be treating you like that."

You sigh. "Well, I don't really have a choice, do I?"

Mr Stark steps forward. "No. You do."

You stare at him. "What do you mean?"

"You can come work for me. Before you come for me, I know Stark Industries has kind of a shady past-"

"But at least you're being honest about it. To me, anyway."

Mr Stark pauses for a moment. "You said your dream job was to be a gadget-master. Do you still want that?"

You bite your lip. "I don't really know, to be honest. I actually don't mind being a lab assistant most of the time. It really just depends on who I'm working for - what they're like. Their personality, I mean."

"Who was the worst person you ever had to work for?"

"Well, there was one guy who lost his temper and threw a flask at me. But that was my own fault. I wasn't paying attention."

"What did SHIELD do?" asks Mr Stark.

"They told him off."

Dr Banner looks horrified. "They didn't fire him?"

You shake your head.

"That's - that's not okay. They should have fired him."

"I would have fired him," adds Mr Stark. "On the spot."

"He did apologise-" you begin, but Mr Stark cuts you off.

"I don't care if he apologised. He shouldn't have done that. And SHIELD shouldn't have let him stay on." He sighs. "Look, kid, I get it if you don't want to work for me. But I'm not letting you stay in SHIELD. I can pull a few strings, and get you a job someplace else, where you'll be treated right. I can get you another job as a lab assistant, if that's what you want."

"You'd really do that?" you ask.

"Of course."

You take a deep breath. "I'll think about it. About what job I want, I mean."

Mr Stark nods. "Sure. Take all the time you need."

****************************************************

You sigh as you put your book aside. You've been trying to read, but your mind's elsewhere.

There's a knock at the door.

Dr Banner pokes his head in. "Hey, Y/N," he says. "Can I come in?"

You nod "Okay."

He moves to sit by your bed. "I heard the hospital's - uh, kicking you out."

You sigh. "Yeah."

"What are you going to do?"

"I don't know. I'm so behind on rent, I probably don't even have my apartment any more."

"I'm sorry," he says softly. "I… I wish there was something I could do."

"Um - actually…" You turn to him as well as your cracked ribs allow you. "Could you fetch Mr Stark, please?"

He gets up. "Yeah - sure. I can do that."

It's only a few minutes before he's back with Mr Stark.

"Hey, kid," says Mr Stark. "You wanted to see me?"

You nod, suddenly feeling rather nervous. "I was wondering - is that job opportunity still open?"

He gives you a funny look. "Of course it's still open."

You take a deep breath. "Well - in that case, I'd like to keep on being a lab assistant."

He smiles. "Great! I'm assuming you want a permanent position, so - is there anyone you'd want to work with? In other words, who was your favourite?"

"Dr Banner."

His smile grows wider. "Are you just saying that because he's in the room?"

You shake your head. "Of course not! I'm saying that he's my favourite, because he is. He's polite, and he's professional, and he's overall just a really nice person."

"You hear that, Bruce?"

You look over, and smile. It's pretty obvious that he did hear, considering how red his face is, and how he's staring at the floor and fiddling with his glasses.

"I'm not that nice," he mutters.

You suppress the urge to tell him he is, mainly because you don't want to embarrass him any further.

"You know, that actually works out pretty well," says Mr Stark. "You see, Pepper and I are rebranding Stark Tower as Avengers Tower. We're putting in rooms - well, floors - for each of the Avengers. We've got more than enough floors for everyone, so you could come live at Avengers Tower. Then you wouldn't have to pay rent, or worry about bills, or anything. You could just - you know, work and live life. How about it, kid?"

Your jaw drops. "You're joking, right?"

"Actually, I'm deadly serious."

"You're serious? I mean - I'll take it! Thank you! I - I mean-"

He just chuckles. "No need to thank me, kid. I know it's not quite the least I can do, but believe me, this isn't exactly what I'd call generous."

You pause. "Hang on - what's the catch?"

"Catch? What, you don't like living with Earth's mightiest superheroes, working your dream job with your favourite scientist, and never having to worry about money again?"

"Well, no - I was just wondering about - well, you said you weren't being generous."

"Well, I could give you a mansion anywhere in the world, give you a million dollars a month, all expenses paid for…"

You laugh. "To be honest, I don't know what I'd do with myself if I had that."

"So you'll take my first offer?"

You nod.

"Great! I'll send a moving team to your old apartment to get your stuff."

You smile shyly. "Thanks. It's very kind of you. Oh - do you need a key?"

He shrugs. "It'd help."

"I think there's one in my old uniform - wherever that is. And there's one under the doorstep."

"Thanks!" Mr Stark steps towards the door. "I'll go tell them now, and stop bothering you lovebirds."

You and Dr Banner both stare at him in shock as he leaves the room.

"I - uh - I should go," says Dr Banner, his face even redder than before, fiddling with his glasses so violently that he's in danger of breaking them. "Uh - see you around."

And just like that, you're left alone, completely stunned, and completely unable to make sense of what just happened.

****************************************************

Part 3

As always, I do not give permission for anyone to copy my work, repost it elsewhere, etc.

reblog if you believe fanfics are as valid as books that were published and sold by authors who write as their main careers. I'm trying to prove a point

Love this!! I'm more of a quiet, grumpy person myself, so this was great reading. ❤️❤️❤️

how it could grow

thank you for voting in this poll! here we have grumpy!reader and sunshine!rooster going to the farmer's market | fluff, 1.7k

It's early.

Bradley gets up early and probably will forever. You've always considered yourself able to get up in the morning, but he's so...cheery. So damn chipper.

Being up early on a Saturday means the local farmer's market. It's so early that it's not even close to crowded, so you and your boyfriend stroll down the rolls of stalls, checking your combined list as you to to make sure you hit the right vendors.

Bradley waves at many of them, dragging you over to get some pickles and compliment Carlota's hat, to the bee farm stand to ask Steve about new candle scents, to get some iced tea and to hear about Lu's new puppy.

"This is delicious, Lu," he says. "What do you think, babe?" He nudges your shoulder with his.

He's not teasing you, not really, but he is trying to make you talk. You're usually very content to let Bradley be the talker, the friendly face. He's like the sun and for a long time you had no idea what he was doing spending his time with you. You're quieter, rougher around the edges. But he's practically drilled it into you by this point: he loves you. So you let him prod you a little because you do like these people and they always have a smile and kind word for you, even if Bradley does all the chatting.

"It's lovely," you tell the vendor, and mean it. It's no surprise Bradley knows him and his dog's name and everything about the business. He beams at you.

"Thank you!" he says. "Bradley's told me you're particular about your tea. Here, you take some of this new blend to try and let me know next week what you think."

So ensues a small battle over paying that ends with Bradley convincing Lu to come to the Hard Deck for a free drink this weekend in exchange for your sample blend.

"That was nice of him," you mumble, tucking into Bradley's side. He holds the iced tea you're sharing between you so you can take sips from the straw, his other arm slung over your shoulder.

"You're his favorite customer," he says. You look at him. Yeah, right, you say with your eyebrows. Seriously, his say back. You roll your eyes.

"I think that's you."

He winks. "Alright, beautiful." You scowl but he ignores it. "I think it's time to divide and conquer. You take fruits, I'll take veggies? And then we can hit the bakery on the way home and eat on the porch."

"Okay," you tell him. He gives you the rest of the tea and you tilt your cheek up. Bradley recognizes what you're asking for immedietly, surging forward to press his lips to your cheek tenderly.

"I'll find you," he says, and heads to the farm stand, whistling as he goes.

You head to the fruit stand. Bradley asked for strawberries, so you'll get some of those. And some apples for snacking on and blackberries, if she has them. When you get there, there's a small child and her mother in front of you. The little girl looks at you and you crack a smile at her and wiggle your fingers in hello. She giggles before burying her face in her mother's leg.

Yeah, okay, so a few things can crack your exterior. Your cheery, handsome aviator boyfriend and cute kids. And dogs, obviously.

The mom and kid leave and it's your turn. "Hi, honey!" the vendor says.

"Hi, Thalia," you say. Bradley comes here almost every week and when you tag along you love to visit this woman especially and her colorful piles of fruit.

"What's it for you today?" she says. Before you can answer, she holds up her hand. "Wait, I forgot!" She bends down under her stall table and reemerges with the most perfect carton of raspberries you've ever seen. You gasp softly. This is the first time she's had them all summer.

"Those are gorgeous," you say. She grins.

"That tall boyfriend of yours came by last week and I didn't have any yet." She chuckles at the memory. "He looked downright heartbroken and asked me to save some for you special once I picked 'em. So here we are! First and only carton before we bring a full load next week."

You gently take the berries from her and find that words won't come. "Oh," you say softly, looking down at them in your hands. "Thank you."

"Not a problem, dear," Thalia says softly. "Anything else for you?" You snap out of it and smile at her, rattling off your list. She bags up your things into your tote after you pay and you carry them over your shoulder while cradling the carton in your hands like precious cargo. Because it is.

The market is a little more crowded as you scan the veg stalls for Bradley. He does things like this -- the berries -- all the time, really. He looks out for you, makes sure your water bottle has ice in it, buys you more shampoo when he notices you're low, resets the car seat when he knows you'll be driving. You know that he likes taking care of you, that it makes him feel useful and like he's loving you properly, but you wonder if maybe you don't show him the same courtesy.

You know you can be sullen, you can be quiet, you can be prickly. It's not proved too much for him thus far and you're sure it won't drive him away, but you worry that he just doesn't know that he deserves to be loved with the same care and concern that he loves you. He deserves someone who makes sure he has the very first carton of the season of his favorite fruit.

You spot him standing by the kombucha stand and admire him as you walk over, tossing out the empty iced tea cup as you go. Highlighted hair, golden skin, tote bag of veg over his broad shoulders. He's so beautiful and he's yours. You love him, you really do. Right before you call his name he looks up and finds you, almost as if he felt you coming. He breaks into a smile so genuine you can't help but return it.

"Hi, gorgeous," he says, loudly. Beautiful, gorgeous. Bradley is always calling you something that makes your cheeks heat and your stomach swoop. You duck your head and step close to him. "Oh, hell yeah, the raspberries! Are they alright?"

"They're perfect," you tell him. You're perfect. "Thank you."

"Good," he says, like you being pleased by some raspberries is the best thing he's heard today. "Ready for breakfast?" You nod and he grabs your free hand and you head out of the market and down the street.

"Bradley," you say quietly, once you're clear of the stands. It's your serious tone and he picks up on it right away, giving your hand a squeeze.

"You okay?"

You hum. You are, but you need to get this out. "It was really nice of you to ask Thalia for these," you say, looking at your raspberries. "And I...I feel like I don't do things for you like that. And I wanted to say I'm sorry and that I'm going to try to do more because --"

"Woah, woah, woah," Bradley says, tugging you to a stop and making sure you're facing each other. "What's all this?" His brows are creased in concern, the furrow between them annoyingly adorable.

You take a deep breath and keep your eyes on his, determined. You want to be sure he hears this because you mean it.

"I know that I'm...prickly. And you're like the sun, Bradley." He looks like he wants to say something but you keep going before he can interrupt. "And you do nice things for me all the time and I know it's because you love me but also because it's just how you love, and because you're good. And I just want to do more to make sure you know that I love you and that you deserve to be treated like you're...like you're the best person in the world because you are."

His eyes get wider and wider as you speak, his lips parting. Yeah, maybe this is a little intense for like, 8:30 in the morning, but you two are honest with each other. It's how you got this far.

"Sweetheart," he says. "Baby, god, I--" He cups your face with one hand, eyes darting back and forth between yours. "But you do."

It's your turn to furrow your brows. What does he mean?

"You iron my uniform and you make sure I get dinner with Maverick every few weeks and you put gas in the Bronco and you stay up late to call me when I'm halfway across the world and you never let me forget my watch and you tell me you love me and that I'm brave and..." Bradley trails off and his thumb gently strokes your cheek. He starts again, quieter this time. "You're quiet in the mornings but you don't mind when I whistle and you're grumpy when it's too hot but you go outside with me anyway and you let me do the talking because I can't shut up and you only smile when you mean it and you're you. You do love me like that. You do."

Good god, you're blinking away tears at his words. "Okay," you say. "I guess we...I guess we love each other alright." Maybe it's just hard to see yourself the way he sees you. Maybe he finds it hard to see himself the way you see him. Maybe this is just how it is -- you have to remind each other you're doing your best.

Bradley leans in and presses his lips to your forehead. "You fucking bet we do," he whispers.

"Don't crush my berries," you say, eyes fluttering closed. He shifts and you feel his breath on your lips.

"I'd never."

And then he kisses you on the empty boardwalk on another gorgeous morning in your lovely, wonderful life.

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, masterlist here! (also did anyone catch the easter egg in this fic :))