#IMMA NEED THAT JACKET SIR /j

[possiblyfunny]

SURPRISE ITS ANOTHER DRAWING-

Silent Orders

(Inspired by a drawing made by Clover_Noir on twitter of the same name. It gave me Fire vibes for some reason-)

Fire is made by @creatively-cosmic for their story, Missing Numbers. They have an ask blog called @themissingnumbers, so please go check them out if anybody sees this.

Extras are below the cut.

I don’t do backgrounds like this often. It’s not very good, but I’m still proud of this one :)

[marvelstcrk]

7 Days: Sunday

CHAPTER I

pairing: tony stark x reader

summary: let’s face it, becoming a professional hitman wasn’t really what you thought you’d grow up to become. what happens when you start falling for your target?

a/n: took me a while to sit down and write, but i really got a good inspiration and hope that whoever finds this, likes it :)

warnings: alcohol, swearing why do ppl flag these?

feedback is appreciated!!

masterlist || series masterlist

“Are you serious?” the man asked, as you were buttoning up your shirt before taking a look at the whole outfit in the mirror.

Too formal.

“Too formal, don’t you think?” You pulled the curtain revealing the outfit to your partner.

“Are you in your sixties, divorcing your fifth husband?” He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Anyway, about the plan, do you really think this will work?”

Rolling your eyes, you retuned to the changing booth, closing it with the curtain again. “No, I never do. But what else can I do?”

“You don’t think, that the billionaire tech genius, Tony Stark, can google the specific [Y/N] [Y/L/N] before thinking about hiring her?”

“Okay, first of all, I’m not going to use my real name. Second of all-“

“Problem solved!” he answered in a mocking tone.

“Oh shut up. You bitched out as soon as you could so why don’t you just zip it and let me handle this. I’m doing it with or without you.”

“You’re going to get us both killed.”

“I won’t.”

“Yes, you will, you-“

You took your things as he spoke and threw them over your arm, heading towards the cash register. “Let’s go.”

The drive back to the motel was excruciating, as were most moments shared with your partner. He kept babbling on about how the plan is stupid and it’s never gonna work and eventually you’ll “-both end up dead or in prison. Or both if boss sends someone to kill us while we’re serving time.”

“Where’s all this positive energy coming from, I wonder.”

He rolled his eyes, adjusting in his seat. “How do we know if he traced the hack?”

“I’m guessing we’d have to actually hack first.”

You didn’t look at him, your view was focused on the side window. But you could swear his jaw was hanging open. “Relax, I’ll get it done.”

“Imma look up funeral homes while you do that.”

You rolled your eyes again, resting your forehead in your hand. The truth was, you never liked the guy, ever since you two had to start working together. Mason was always a guy without tactics. If it was up to him, you’d be wearing balaclavas on the way to bust in Stark’s home by now. In his head, that’s less suspicious than actually having a plan. Maybe it is, because other way, you show your face, but if you play it right it won’t be so obvious.

You finally reached your destination, and you rolled out of the car upstairs to the room.

After spending a good few hours trying to decrypt and break into the Stark Industries’ networks, you finally made it.

Curiosity was getting the best out of you as you scrolled through information of other candidates. Biting your lip, you added the file you’d previously completed of your alter ego and closed the laptop.

Twisting in your seat, you turned over to face Mason. “It’s done.”

———

He stomped into the living room of his house, pressing his hand over his wounded shoulder.

“Are you sure you don’t need anything, Mr Stark?”

“I’m sure, thank you.”

The woman nodded, clenching her tablet over her thighs with both hands. “Are the job interviews still on for tomorrow?”

He bit his lip, searching through his mind for anything which could associate with the following day.

“Oh, the PA meetings? Yeah, I remember, of course. Sure, they’re still on. I’m as good as new.” he said, raising his brow.

The woman nodded once again, before clenching her lips. Before she left, she let out a “I’ll leave you to it then.”

Tony turned around, facing the loneliness of his home. He rest his hand on the back of an armchair after throwing his jacket over it.

He sighed, heading towards the liquor cabinet, but got interrupted by a familiar voice.

“Mr Stark, it appears that we suffered a slight security breach.”

He sighed, pouring a drink in his glass. “Define ‘slight’, J.”

“Someone hacked into your files of tomorrow’s PA applicants. The candidate files have been edited and one has been added.”

“Which one?”

“Brooklyn Adams. Just graduated at the University of California.”

He turned around, facing the hologram screen. In front of him was a photo of a young woman. “What’s her major, computer programming?”

“No actually, anthropology.”

“Are you kidding me?” he chuckled, scratching his chin. “Tell you what J, why don’t you pull out the university’s records of recent graduates.”

“As you wish, sir.”

tags: @shannonr2003

[raspberrytummytickles]

Not Your Fault

Title: Not Your Fault Fandom: Supernatural Characters: Sonny, Sam, Dean Summary: Ticklish!Sam; Sam blames himself for Dean getting arrested and having them end up at Sonny’s place for boys. Dean decides to show his brother that he is not to blame.

A/N: Heyo! So this is Part 1 of my Sonny Verse. I love the Bad Boys episode (Season 9) and I loved at the end, how Dean looked out the window at Sammy and anyway it was just adorable. (Sorry, I tend to ramble). I always loved the idea of Sam going with Dean to Sonny’s so that’s what this small verse is about! Hope you enjoy!! 

Dean never really expected to be caught. It wasn’t something that had happened before. He lost the money their father gave the boys for food in a poker game (he was still learning but damn he thought he would win). Unfortunately, that meant he had a hungry little brother waiting for him back at the motel room.

The deputy was a hard ass, grabbed Dean from behind―something you never want to do to a hunter―so Dean socked him in the eye. The deputy was a bit dramatic about it but when he tried forcing Dean in the car, all the teen could think about was Sammy. He couldn’t be away from his little brother. No matter how many years had passed, the shtriga incident still haunted his dreams so he yelled at the deputy that he needed to get his little brother.

Deputy didn’t believe him at first but humored the kid and drove him there, even knocking on the door. Sam didn’t answer because it wasn’t the secret knock. Before the deputy could drag Dean back, Dean hit the door three times before pausing and then hitting it four with a twist of the knob. Immediately, the door flew open and Sam was crashing into his big brother.

The deputy looked at them in surprise, glancing in the room to see no father. Hmmm…kid steals food, has a little brother in a disgusting motel room and an absent father. The man knew where to put these too and drove them to an old friends place. He called his homebase and explained what happened, looking in the rearview mirror. The smaller boy was curled next to the older one, quietly whispering while the older one soothed the kid instantly.

Rules were rules, the kid could go to Sonny’s but he had to wear handcuffs upon arrival (especially after the mean right hook and the disgusting call form their father). Sonny was waiting on the porch of his boys home when the deputy pulled up. The older one stumbled out, pulling on his handcuffs while the little boy clutched the leather jacket, eyes studying them. Sonny led all three to a couch in the living room where the kids took a seat and the deputy sighed.

“Thanks for doing this, Sonny.”

“It’s no problem,” The older man shrugged, gazing over the two boys. The deputy removed his sunglasses, forgetting his black eye. “What happened to ya?”

The older boy snorted, making Sonny know immediately who the culprit was.

“You think that’s funny?” The deputy snarled, the heat of anger previously left coming back full range. The smaller boy shrunk into his brother’s side.

“I think you’re slow,” The teen responded with a smirk.

“You sucker punched me!“

"You wish!”

“Enough!” Sonny broke them apart quickly, watching the deputy leave. He turned back to the kids, raising an eyebrow as the smaller one had already grabbed a paperclip and was getting his brother out of the cuffs. “So, what’d ya steal?” Sonny asked, noticing how the little brother quickly gazed upon his older sibling. 

The teen shifted under the scrutiny and looked down, “Bread and peanut butter.”

Sonny’s eyes went from the elder’s blank look to the kids surprised-quickly-turned-guilty look. Everything quickly came into perspective. He motioned the kids to follow him into the kitchen, not looking back to see if they were following.

“How do you know that we wont just run away?” The older boy asked, keeping himself in front of his little brother.

“Because you’re hungry.”

“I’m not hungry,” The boy huffed. The little boy shifted uncomfortably, looking between his brother and the man offering food.

Sonny nodded but continued to make the sandwiches, placing two perfectly good PB&J’s on a plate and sliding it toward the kids. The older teen took one and shredded the crust off, handing it to his little brother. The kid quickly munched on it, holding it close like someone was going to take it from him. The teen ate his the way it was, still hovering close and watching Sonny with narrowed eyes.

“So what are your two names?”

“I’m Sam,” The small boy said softly, smacking his lips that somehow got covered with peanut butter. Sonny snorted while his big brother rolled his eyes exasperatedly, grabbing a napkin and handing it to his baby. “He’s Dean.” Sam wiped his face with an adorable flush.

Dean gave a half wave, eyes beaming with amusement at his little brother but untrusting at Sonny.

“Well, I’m Sonny and I run this boy home.”

“Lame,” Dean muttered, wincing at Sam’s sharp nudge.

“Better than jail,” Sonny replied. “I’ll show you two your rooms. I bet you want to stay together?”

“Yes sir.”

Sonny opened the door closest to the stairs. There were two beds, a nice window seat and a huge bookcase. It was the only room with two beds; rarely anyone slept there (usually kids from sexually abused homes) but Sonny was happy to give it to the two brothers.

As they looked around their room, he had a feeling his life would be a little more interesting.

Sonny left the Winchester’s to their devices, Dean quickly checking that everything was alright in the room. Sam was staring out the window, a small frown on his face as he gazed at the trees and tweeting birds.

“Hey, kiddo, I’m sorry we’re in this mess,” Dean apologized. Sam blinked at him in surprise and shook his head.

“Dean, no, it’s my fault.”

“Your fault?” Dean narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms.

“I never should of asked for you to go on a food run. I was selfish, I’m sorry.”

“Woah,” Dean held his hands up, shaking his head. “Time out, what the hell are you talking about? Dude, I’m the one that lost the food money, not you. This one is on me, okay?”

“But―”

“No. Sammy, I mean it,” Dean warned, reaching over and poking Sam’s side. Sam yelped and jerked at the touch, pouting at Dean.

“Stop.”

“Stop what?” Dean asked, happy the somber mood lifted and poked his brother again, chuckling at the tiny giggle that escaped.

“That!”

“What’s that?”

“You know what that is!” Sam cried, stepping away when Dean poked his ribs.

“I don’t understand, Sammy, explain please,” Dean teased.

“Poking me!”

“Why?”

“Because,” Sam cringed as he realized he was between a wall and a Dean and there was literally no escape.

“Becaaaaaaaaauuuuse…?”

“It tickles!” Sam whined. As soon as the T word left his mouth, Sam doubled over as Dean latched onto his sides, digging into the ticklish flesh. “Nohoho!”

“Oh, this tickles? I didn’t realize!” Dean smiled, wiggling down Sam’s body, thumbs drilling into the thin hips. Sam shrieked, arching his body as he tried to escape.

“Dehehehean! Stohohop it!“ 

“Why? You like it don’t you?” Dean chuckled as Sam’s face flushed pink and scribbled over the hard boney hip. “You need to eat more, Sammy.”

“Ihihihisn’t that whahahahat got uhuuhus hehehere in the fihihihirst placEHEHAHA!” Sam squealed as Dean thrust his hands under Sam’s armpits, tickling the skin before the hollows and steadily moved in. “OHOHO MY GOHOHOD!”

“God cant save you from the Tickle Monster, Sammy! And he just wants to eat you up!” Dean easily lifted his baby brother up and threw him onto one of the beds before straddling the giggling mess. “Roar! Imma get you!”

“Nohoho Dehehe!” Sam giggled, batting weakly at Dean’s hands as they tickled his hollows lightly.

“Who is this De you speak of? He sounds handsome,” Dean joked. “I am the Tickle Monster, kiddo. And he needs you to lift your arms so he can move on…unless you like it here.” Dean dug into the ticklish pits, relishing in the scream that escaped Sam before the kid dissolved into high pitched laughter.

Sam tried to catch his breath as Dean slowed the tickles to light scratches. He lifted his arms an inch before slamming them back down as the hard tickling returned with vigor.

“NOHOHOHO! T-TIHIHICKLE MOHOHONSTEHEHER! STOHOHOP!”

Dean nearly cooed at how adorable his brother looked; face flushing dark pink with his nose scrunched, eyes squeezed shut and mouth wide open as happy laughter exited. 

“Tickle Monster is hungry Sammy-Sam. I think he needs some feeding!”

“Ahahaha he-he just ahahate!” Sam protested weakly as Dean pulled his hands free and skitted his nails over Sam’s clothed torso till it reached the end of the shirt, pulling it up to the baby Winchester’s chest. Sam’s hands tried once again to grab at Dean’s but Dean easily brushed the hands away, making them sit on his shoulders.

“Yeah, but there’s always room for dessert! And his Sammy always taste the best,” Dean leaned down, nosing the quivering belly as Sam started pleading again, hands tightening on his shoulders.

“Dehe De plehehease stop it, I cahahan’t haHAHAHAHA NOHOHO!” Sam bucked his hips hard as Dean placed a huge, wet raspberry right on his belly button.

Dean place two more on the dips of Sam’s sides, chuckling at the girlish squeals escaping. He started scribbling both hands over the sides and bottom ribs while nibbling the ticklish flesh of Sam’s abdomen.

“Yum Yum Yum!”

“NOHOHO! STOPITSTOPITSTOPIT! AHAHAHA! IT TIHIHIHICKLES! DEHEHEHE!”

“That’s the point, Smarty-pants,” Dean smirked, blowing more wet raspberries all over Sam’s tummy. The kid was too tired to jerk anymore, his laughter rising higher when they got blown before quieting to manageable laughter. Dean couldn’t even understand what Sam was pleading anymore as he screeched with every tickle.

Finally, the small boy fell silent and Dean felt like his job was done. He snorted as he looked down at Sam, taking in his red face that had tear tracks on them, his pink tummy actually still twitching from the torture plus the cool air along with the endless smile on Sam’s face. Dean took one of the pillow covers and gently wiped his spit off Sam’s belly, snorting when Sam giggled loudly as he tried to twitch away. The older brother pulled down Sam’s shirt and gave him two small pats, making the younger brother groan and close his eyes.

“Still convinced it was your fault?”

“Hell no,” Sam chocked out. “It was definitely all your fault. One million percent!”

“Don’t make me do round two,” Dean warned, wiggling his fingers over Sam’s belly. Sam squeaked and forced himself into his brother’s curve, head tucking under the sixteen year old’s chin like when he was five.

Dean blinked, a little shocked but otherwise embraced his little brother, cradling him away from any danger and ready to be the support the kid would need in their new place.

Sonny stepped away from the door, having arrived when Sam started screaming loudly. 

Yep, things were definitely going to be interesting with these Winchesters around.

~To be continued...~