#vintagevalentinexx

[imaginemycroftholmes]

Whenever you care to answer this. Imagine talking Mycroft into doing a mud mask with you, and he enjoys them so much that you catch him doing them on his own.

“Come on sweetheart, just do this just once with me? Please,” you wheedle holding a pair of face masks you’ve just received from Amazon, “They’ve got the highest rating ever on the site and approved by 9 out of 10 dermatologists to leave your skin feeling rejuvenated.”

Mycroft does that thing with his eyebrow; the same eyebrow that Sherlock uses when Molly is trying to sell him on getting his own cat so that way he’ll stop “stealing” Toby away from her and the one mimicked by John when Rosie begs him to do some princess stuff with him.

It was an eyebrow you rarely saw directed at you personally but man oh man did it speak volumes.

Like the kind of volumes that are combined between the Harry Potter series and Lemony Snicket and then some.

“And why, pray tell, would you want me to try these face sheets when you could more for yourself if they’re so highly appraised?”

Trying to really sell it you turn coy. “Well, Cosmo and Good Housekeeping said it would be a good way to bond with one another while relaxing in each other’s presence.”

“Darling, I am always relaxed around you.”

“You weren’t when I was driving that Mazda when we were visiting your parents,” you snipe remembering just how tense the whole affair had been.

It was hardly your fault that the pair of you were running behind because Mycroft couldn’t let the blasted phone voicemail alone for another day but you had swore you would get them there in ample time if he let you take the wheel and you kept your word.

Got there right on the dot just in time for Violet to light the candles on Siger’s cake and none of the gifts were rumpled. Hardly what you had called a tense affair but Mycroft required some Tylenol and a quick “lie down” before he rejoined the festiveness.

.”That was a one time affair,” Mycroft argued.

“And so will this if you just do it with me once,” you pleaded in earnest.

“Promise?”

“Of course Darling. When have I ever lied to you,” you ask in mock hurt.

“Do you want to go Chronologically or Alphabetically because if we’re talking about recent events telling me that “the water is fine and jump in” to be one of them followed by “Don’t worry, this position is easy.”

Rolling your eyes and waving his complaints you reply, “Fine. I get it. But this time I mean it. Just this once and I’ll never make you do it again.”

Then with little much fuss you were able to get the face mask on Mycroft and yourself while just enjoying the fading afternoon rays on the screened patio.

It was one and done just as you had promised however, you were beginning to find a lot of those face masks in the bathroom weeks after the last time you used them with your husband and you know you didn’t buy them all.

Maybe he bought them for me, you think as you go through the selection to see if there was one you’d want to try.

Caught between tearing off the seal to the latest Korean face mask with honeydew melon extracts Mycroft makes an entrance into the room with the most horrified look on his face begging you to “WAIT!”

“I’m sorry” you say confused stopping the motion short of truly opening the package, “were these not supposed to be used?”

“Ah yes, but,” Mycroft pauses to take a breath looking very embarrassed before continuing at a quieter tone “those were actually for me.”

“You?”

Now he looks even more red as he tries to explain himself. “Its just that that mask you had me try on was very soothing so I wanted to try out other brands to see if they had the same effect.”

Smiling at your bashful husband you get up from the counter’s side and hug him. “Honey, there’s no reason to be embarrassed, lots of guys do stuff like this,” you say trying to comfort him, “Hell, I know for a fact that Sherlock does hair masks with Molly and John’s routinely let’s Rosie paint his toenails.”

Mycroft pulls himself away from you to look at you, “Truly?”

“Yes, babe,” you confirm, “This face mask thing is hardly something you need to be ashamed about and quite frankly I’m happy you’re into it.”  

“You are?”

“Well, yeah. Why wouldn’t I want to try out face sheets with my one best friend and husband of two years? It’s fun, easy and cheap to get,” you say with a beaming smile until you notice Mycroft avoid eye contact.

“These were the cheap ones weren’t they Mycroft,” you ask suspiciously.

The two of you already had a talk about not spending money on frivolous things as you guys were hoping to start a family soon and purchasing a box full of face sheets, especially the more expensive brands would definitely put a dent in your baby bank money.

Still avoid your eyes Mycroft expresses, “I may have dabbled with purchasing the higher end brand of face sheets…”

“Mycroft!”

“It was only for the melon brand I swear!”

[sebbytrash]

Hi yes. I'm going to need about ten billion more parts to Somewhere That's Ours. Thaaaaanks. 😘😘😘

Oh Rach, you are just to good to me! I love you a whole bunch

“Somewhere That’s Ours”

[callmesweetheartifyoumeanit]

I know we don't know each other well but I do know how it feels to lose a mother. Nothing I can say will make you feel better but I am here if you would like to talk. All I can say is that the pain does eventually get better and please know that so many people love you, myself included. If you'd like to talk, vent, anything please let me know and I'd be happy to give you my number. Thinking of you. Rachel

Oh sweet sweet Rachel. The things you said in this message really helped me get by. It made me get up each morning ready to take on the world despite the agonizing pain I felt each day. And you know what, you were right. It did get better. There were some days that felt borderline normal and I think it was like that because I knew I wasn’t alone in the situation. I still have my awful days...right now I’m having an awful season, but I have hope. Hope that you made possible and I’m so thankful for it.

[jessicajones616]

Thank you for continuing to fuel my Frank Castle obsession. Bless you.

Glad to help! 😉

[howlingbarnes]

What are your feelings on Thor's hair in this upcoming movie? Idk how I feel about it yet. I feel like it's growing on me, but I kind of still miss the long hair.

Listen. I loved Thor’s long hair. It was godawful in the first movie and by the last one, it was at optimal Asgardian Beauty™ length. I loved the way it was pulled back, and the cute, tiny braids that were mixed in. Like wtf, who did those?? Did he do those?? Did Thor Odinson, God of Thunder put teeny braids in his own gorgeous, flowing hair?

As for the new hair. I love it. Like, he’s already sex on legs (and that’s a lot coming from me) but then there’s this new edgy haircut to go with his new modern attitude. He looks like the masculine, savage ass fuckin’’ warrior that he is. Honestly, what does it for me are the three little lines that are shaved in. I can imagine Thor just looking at the new cut like “If you must take my locks, at least make me look cooler.”

[imamotherfuckingstar-lord]

(1) Holy fucking shit. I just read that anon ask you got and I am just like appalled. The complete lack of understanding from this person is astounding to me. The "bad shit." Like trivializing genocide. Genocide is not just "bad shit." Treating human beings like animals and lower than humans is not "bad shit." It is an atrocity, and the blasé attitude this anon has make me sick to my stomach. This is the reason why events like this continue to happen.

(2) Because people refuse to look back to history and learn from the horrors that were committed. How many more people need to die before we fucking figure that out?! I strongly suggest this anon picks up a book and truly learns about these people who were rounded up like cattle and treated like objects. Whose skin was used for leather. Whose wedding rings were melted down and repurposed. Who were buried in mass graves. How twins were experimented on, how women were forcibly impregnated.

(3) The lack of understanding your anon has frightens me. It should frighten everyone. Because if this is the attitude of our generation, then nothing will ever be changed. "Those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it." Sorry for the rant, but I had to speak my mind, as someone who has distant family members that were in those concentration camps.    

I’m just gonna leave this here.

[bkwrm523]

Butts.

Agreed.

All the butts.

[trekpositive]

This is such a beautiful blog. What kind of encouraging words do you think Scotty would offer after someone has a panic/anxiety attack?

If he was with you when it happened, Scotty would help you focus on your breathing and make sure you have anything you need. When it’s over, he tells you he’s proud of you for getting through it.

[winchestersnco]

I love you

love you more :-*

[vintagevalentinex]

Window

So I was completely taken by Daredevil Season 2 and have fallen into the rank Castle trash can.  He is just such a wonderful character and I felt so very compelled to write about him.  

If you haven’t seen Daredevil Season 2, I strongly advise doing so before you read this!

I hope you like it! :)

P.S.  This will be a multi-part story!

Title: Window Author: vintagevalentinexx Words: ~1200 Pairing: (Frank Castlex Reader) Warnings: Slight angst, vague description of depression (if you squint)

Your days weren’t always this bad.  There was always an underlying throbbing in the back of your mind, but your days were not usually this dark.  There were days that were absolutely wonderful; days where your world was filled with color and fragrance.  You cherished these days, because they were so pure.  Then there were days like the one you were having; dirty-colored sepia and rain.  You stepped out onto the fire escape, a place where you found some solace on dark days like the one you were having.  You took a deep breath in, taking in the scent of rain as you sat on the damp grate of the fire escape, not caring about your bottom getting wet.  Your legs hung over the edge as you continued to breathe deeply, taking in the sounds of the city.  You knew that being out there alone wasn’t the best idea, given all of the insanity that has plagued Hell’s Kitchen over the past year, but you didn’t care.  The peace that the fire escape gave you was worth the risk.  Gripping the rails, you leaned your head against them, calming your breath, trying to pull yourself out of the darkness that you were so often plunged into.  You were jolted out of your quasi –meditation by a loud thud coming from the apartment next to yours.  

You had never met your neighbor.  The only thing you knew was that you shared a fire escape with them.  You didn’t even know what they looked like.  Sometimes through the wall you could hear a dog barking, but that was really about it.  You heard another thud from inside of the apartment and you crept closer to your neighbor’s side of the fire escape, your heart beating heavily, hoping you weren’t about to see something you couldn’t unsee.  You peered into the window, letting out a scream as the blinds were pulled aside, your eyes meeting an intense pair of brown ones.  You stumble back towards your side of the fire escape, gripping the rail tightly, afraid that you were going to fall off, just from sheer nervousness.  You could hear the window opening, your body paralyzed in fright and embarrassment, your eyes as big as saucers.  You started to babble.

“Please, I am so so sorry.  I wasn’t trying to spy on you.  I heard a noise.  I’m your neighbor.  We share the fire escape.  I was just sitting out here.  Did I mention that I’m sorry?  Well I’m so sorry, please—“

“Shut up.”

You swallowed hard, cautiously and slowly looking up, meeting the eyes of your neighbor.  He stood tall, muscular, and he gave off a certain air of authority and confidence that unnerved you.  He seemed to size you up, his shoulders relaxing when he realized that you were not a threat.  He held his hands up, showing you that he wasn’t any harm as he stepped closer.  You shook with fright, your mind clicking, realizing why this man was so terrifying.  He was the man that all of Hell’s Kitchen lost sleep over.  He was the man that you watched on the news every night for months; the man that they said was a serial killer, killing people just because he could.  

The Punisher.

You were too afraid to move, so scared that he was going to do something to you.  You could feel your knees starting to buckle, your hands losing grip of the rail.  You felt yourself slipping, eyes closed shut, feeling as though you slammed into a wall. A warm wall.  Wait, what?  To your horror you open your eyes, finding yourself held in the arms of The Punisher himself.  He looked down at you, and then at your window, his lips forming the smallest of smiles, nary even a ghost of a smile, just enough for you to realize the corners of his eyes were crinkled in amusement.

“Ma’am…”

“PLEASE DON’T HURT ME. I’M SO SORRY—“

“…uh…Ma’am…”

“I PROMISE I WON’T SAY ANYTHING TO ANYONE PLEASE JUST LET ME GO, PLEASE DON’T KILL ME—“

“…You locked yourself out of your apartment, Ma’am…”

You stare up at him in partial shock, whipping your head to look at your window, latched and locked. You stand upright, finding your footing as you nervously straighten out your clothes, becoming extremely focused at the grate of the fire escape.  You could feel the flush rising in your cheeks as you regained your composure.  You could hear him chuckling softly at you. His voice was throaty, not overly gravely, but had a definite rasp to it.  He had the tell-tale accent of a life-long New Yorker.

“I…uh…so…you aren’t here to kill me…?”

He rolled his eyes, reaching past you, feeling the pane of your window, trying to force it open. He grunted, exhaling.

“Wanna come through my side?  I don’t wanna break your window…”

You gape at him.  Is this a trick?  Is he trying to lull me into a sense of false security to kill me?  What the hell is his game?  He watched you, looking at you as if he could read your thoughts.

“Seriously sweetheart? I ain’t tryin’ to kill ya.”

He grabbed your hand as he made his way through his window, nearly dragging you through with him. He pulls you through his apartment, your head snapping around wildly as you notice all of the guns and other various weapons.  You notice opened cans of food amongst the rest of the mess, nearly rolling your eyes. Typical man.  You perked up at the sound of a dog barking.

“Is that…is that a dog?”

He looked back at you, the same ghost of a smile on his lips “Yes, Ma’am.  His name’s Max.”

He pulls you through the rest of his apartment, grabbing something that you couldn’t see off of a table as he pulls you out into the hallway to your door.  You look up at him, chewing on your bottom lip.  “I lock my door as soon as I got into my apartment…”

He nods, “Smart woman.” He takes what like a set of different shaped picks, getting your door open in seconds flat.

“I…um…thank you, Mr.—“

“Frank.  Name’s Frank.”

“I’m (Y/N).”

“Nice meetin’ ya sweetheart.  Do me a favor.  Next time, try to not get locked out on the fire escape, huh?  You’re lucky I was home.  You could’a been out there all night.”

You find yourself smiling a little as you slipped past him to go inside your apartment.

“Oh, and kid…I’d appreciate it if you—“

You nodded.  “I won’t tell anyone.  As absolutely horrifying as you are, you’ve really cleaned up Hell’s Kitchen and—“

You could hear him laughing.

“That was really insensitive of me.”

“S’alright.  You have a nice night, (Y/N).”

“Goodnight, Frank.”

You close your door, locking it.  It is only then that you hear him walk back to his own apartment, the familiar sound of his door slamming and the dog…er, Max, barking again.  You lean back against your door, a smile finding its way to your lips.  Were you so frightened that you were just smiling out of nervous?  You had no idea.  You didn’t know how to feel about the man who took out the gangs single-handedly and yet helped you get back into your apartment.

Though you hoped that you would have more encounters with him.

Read Part Two

[girl-next-door-writes]

Last Line Game

Rule: Post the last line you’ve written and tag as many people as there are words in that line.

I was tagged by the amazingly talented @captain-rogers-beard !

The last line I wrote:  You can’t tell a girl you’re into her and then not call or play it cool.

Tagging: @rpwithadorableme @princessmisery666 @imamotherfuckingstar-lord @redgillan @justagirlinafandomworld @kittenofdoomage @lucifer-in-leather @lucifersagents @imaginedreamwrite @iwillbeinmynest @thewhiterabbit42 @thorne93 @vintagevalentinexx @idreamofplaid @evansrogerskitten @luci-in-trenchcoats

[imaginemycroftholmes]

Imagine having a movie marathon with Mycroft, all nestled up in that chair. Possibly bickering over what movie they are going to watch next. Do with that as you like. :P

“Now we’ve already watched your fantastical murder romantic comedy ______ now its only fair that we watch one of my choosing,” Mycroft reminds you as you not too subtly go to reach through the pile of  DVDs for the next movie to watch next to the chair.

Stiffening at the accusation you’re a bit put out since you know that Mycroft has been out of country for well over a month and you want nothing more than to watch all your favorites with him but understand that Mycroft wants to see his shows as well.

Giving your best pout you inform your husband of almost three years that, “I wasn’t picking out the next movie sweetheart, just getting out your favorites and bringing them closer so you could figure out which one to play next.”

Mycroft does not look convinced as he gives you a “sure you were” look and holds his hand open to retrieve the believed favorites of his to choose from. “Be  a dear and fetch us another bottle of brandy from the cabinet while I peruse from this selection,” he asks placing his now empty glass on the ottoman before him.

“Of course,” you reply effortlessly as you whip off the blanket and press a kiss to his temple.

It had become somewhat of a tradition between the two of you-movie marathons when Mycroft returned from some unGodly  business dealings for the crown for months at a time to unwind and reconnect.

To reclaim he passage of time lost to work and other personal appointments and just relax as husband and wife.

At first there was hardly any movie watching at all with the pair of you unable to keep your hands to yourselves as the beginning title sequence droned on, later alcohol was involved making it still less movie watching versus commentary from all drunken parties involved along with some impromptu couch sex which had resulted in damaging the poor furniture but not replaced if for the sake of memory alone.

Now with more stability in the marriage and several promises hushed into the night after watching a spectacularly bad occult film at 2 a.m. in the morning the pair of you can appreciate movie marathon nights for what it really was intended for-to be together half naked and watch movies together.

The coldness on your bottom makes the trip rather short as you’d much rather be back under the covers next to Mycroft as you grab the bottle and go, feet slapping against the tiled floors heading back to the family room.

Mycroft, the cheeky bastard has already pushed play on his choice and has his glass held out. “Please miss, may I have some more,” he quotes so horrendously that you can’t help but snort as you open the bottle to pour.

“Babe you are drunk,” you giggle as Mycroft takes a good swig from the glass the second you finish pouring it.

He looks rather indignant at the statement picking up his blanket to go around his neck revealing his naked legs in the process, “Madame, I am many things but drunk I am not…I just happen to be pleasantly plastered.”

Mycroft’s smile is infectious as he then starts to slap the space beside him on the chair, “Come, sit with me my love.”

Considering that you’re not had as many as your husband you’re quick to remind him, “I will as long as you don’t try to recreate that sex scene in that B rated movie. Remember last time we had to call the doctor to help put your leg back into its socket without pain numbing medication because you were so wasted.”

“Of course not ____, I’m an older and wiser man,” Mycroft claims scooting over to make room, “I would never try to do that again.”

Skeptical but also wanting in on some of that warmth from your hubby you make the perilous trek of a few inches to be joined with Mycroft on the chair to continue with the marathon.

It takes a quick tick to get in position and naked skin on skin makes it oh so more distracting that by the time you do get comfortable on the chair you just barely fail to catch on to what is playing on the television.

“Mycroft this is the movie isn’t it,” you deadpan.

“It is.”

“And you’re not going to try and recreate the sex scene in it like last time right,” you ask apprehensively because truth be told you did not like being the somber one watching Mycroft wither in pain because he dislocated his leg trying to copy the leading actor.

“Of course not, I promised I wouldn’t,” Mycroft dismisses giving you a small sigh of relief before following up with, “at least not on the chair. I figured we could just try it on the floor like common heathens and then perhaps on the couch if you’re amendable afterwards during the credits.”

 Letting your head roll onto your husbands shoulder you try to stop smiling because you just know this will only lead to calling the family doctor once again but cannot help but be happy with the familiarity of it all.

“You know I’m always up for anything you want to do,” you say honestly, “but please, please don’t try to do it exactly as the actor does- we’re not exactly young anymore Mycroft. Some things are beyond our limits.”

“Now I wouldn’t say that _____ after all I was dealing with the Tibetan monks for well over a month and they did teach me a few things,” Mycroft says ominously.

“Mycroft.” 

[sebbytrash]

I am on my period and you just have to go and give me all these feelings. 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

OMG RACH I DID IT TO MYSELF WTF IS WRONG WITH ME

Read “Through His Eyes Part 5″ here

[callmesweetheartifyoumeanit]

I am so utterly happy that everything worked out for you! You've been in my thoughts for the past week or so. xoxo

Thank you my love! I’m happy it’s over with and considering the fact that I’m such an absolute pessimist, I like to think that it all worked out because of you guys and your donations and well wishes. 

[howlingbarnes]

Okay. But like. Why is he such a little cutie muffin.

I don’t know what you’re talking about but I’m going to assume it’s Tom Holland because everything is Tom Holland. It’s pure DNA, he’s been created in a lab to become the most adorable human on the face of this world you call Earth.

[imamotherfuckingstar-lord]

Frank Castle NEEDS to be added to that list!!!

He is! haha, believe he his.