AtlantisBlueS



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  1. Rec *

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    Things keep worming their way into Draco's heart and, to be honest, he's sick of it. Or: Draco fosters bunnies to impress a co-worker.

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    11 Mar 2024

  2. Rec *

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    Coulson, for his part, stares up at Bucky with such a betrayed look of frozen horror that Natasha actually goes the extra step and presses another button, capturing the moment and airdropping the photograph to her phone for posterity. When he speaks, his voice comes out as a hoarse whisper. “Why…?” He swallows and starts again, trying for some semblance of normality. “...Why would you tweet something like that?!”

    “If you must know, sir,” and somehow he manages to make ‘sir’ come out with the same inflection most people reserve for ‘motherfucking son of a bitch’, “it’s because I have a difficult time doing my job when my job involves monitoring the man with the best fucking ass in the United States of America.” He slowly lowers himself back into his seat until he’s at eye level, making extreme eye contact with Coulson until Coulson turns away to make mortified eye contact in Natasha’s general direction through the one-way glass. Natasha would take another picture, if she weren’t too busy catching Steve’s red-faced sputtering. “Sometimes, I vent to my Twitter followers. Sometimes, it’s about hot men with washboard abs. Can I go now, or do you need a graphic description of how I pleasure myself at night?”

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    29 Feb 2024

  3. Rec *

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    Draco’s mouth falls open.

    He clutches his cookie and ignores the shower of crumbs littering his grey cashmere fingerless gloves.

    He can’t decide if he wants to fuck this girl or fight with her. Maybe both? Maybe at the same time?

    “So—you’re upset,” he says with a nonchalant nod and discreet adjustment of his slightly too-tight khaki corduroys.

    She blinks at him, her expression alternating between indignation and incredulity and flat-out fury.

    He had been right about her being pretty beneath the intimidation tactics.

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    11 Jan 2024

  4. Rec *

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    The last thing he remembers is leaving school. It was a half day, as he’d finished his exams early, texted May about staying over at Ned’s place, sent another text to MJ and then a twitch of his spider senses--

    Then a pinch at his neck, like a bee sting, but deeper. Darkness. Then here.

    Huh. Kidnapped. That’s new. If he was less emotionally dead from finals and sleep deprivation, he’d probably have a stronger and much more appropriate reaction to that.

    At least he's got Captain America and the Winter Soldier to keep him company.

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    06 Sep 2023

  5. Rec *

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    “Hello? Yes, this is Trent Crimm, The Independent. I’ve got a bit of an emergency and need Coach Lasso’s mobile.” Trent paused, brow furrowing in irritation. “Well, his son is currently standing in my office, in my newspaper building, which is filled with bloodthirsty journos. Could you make an exception for that?"

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    04 Sep 2023