I Just Realized Ur Requests Are Closed Im So Sorry !!!!! Please Ignore Thaf Msg I Just Sent Im So So

Hardest of hearts

Ollie Plimsolls x female reader

summary: You are the new member of Legz Akimbo and Ollie is rude to you at first, but warms up to you with time. warnings: swearings, mention of sex. requested by: @sandwichthatcomesinahotdogboxword count: 532 A/N: I hope you'll like it!

When you joined Legz Akimbo, you didn’t think it would be a literal hell on earth. Some days you wish you’d never stumbled upon this flyer with what seemed to be quite an exciting job opportunity. The main and only reason for your bad mood and sour thoughts was the head of the troupe, Ollie Plimsolls.

The man seemed to hate you from the first moment of your audition. Even though you’ve got the job, not thanks to him, you assumed. Constant nagging and scolding, questioning your place in the theater and ridiculing became part of the work. You tried to be "the adult one", tried to reason with him, but no success.

One day you were rehearsing scenes four from your new play "Genie and a bottle" about the destructive influence of alcoholism. You played little boy Jerry who got beaten by his father, so you were lying on the floor, Dave, who played the father, was looming over you with his right hand raised for a punch.

"No!" Ollie cried all of a sudden. You turned to see him better from your position. "No! No, no, no! Y/n, you don’t feel your character at all! You don’t understand what he’s going through. Honestly, have you even read the script? If you were a real actor, you’d see that…"

It was the last straw. Fuck him! Not remembering yourself out of rage, you all but jumped to your feet from your position, and stood before him face to face.

"Have I read the script?" You hissed in his face, so infuriated you practically could feel how the blood was boiling in your veins. "I wrote this character, you fucking twat! Honestly, fuck off, Ollie!"

You stormed off the room, not giving another look at his slightly shocked and angry face, and didn’t want to ever go back there. But when you were about to open the exit door, someone’s hand yanked your shoulder painfully, slamming your back into the nearest wall.

It was the very man who insulted you just moments ago.

"What the fuck did you just say to me?" He asked in a dangerously low murmur, capturing you between him and the wall, red face, and angry. "Oh, you think you’re so perfect, don’t ya? You, bloody little perfection, you don’t know a shit!"

As his little speech progressed, his face’s coming closer and closer, so much that you could feel his hot ridgid breaths on your skin. It burned your lips, as you stood silently, body shaking, and then his mouth pressed down on yours in an angry kiss. It was frantic, all teeth and bites. He dragged you to the empty van and took you right there, on the dirty floor, hard and fast.

After this day, strangely, Ollie seemed to tone down his "I’m an actual actor" behavior and finally you were able to have a decent conversation. You talked about various subjects, from Stanislavski’s acting technique to your favorite books. Turned out he was not so bad to be around when he was not being a cunt.

Better late than never, right? If you only knew it was that easy to shut him up...

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Imagine teaching Jack how to cook.

for the family recipe soup I chose a chicken soup with dumplings, idk it's just my favorite. you can imagine your favorite dish instead :) can be read as romantic!Jack Kline x reader

"What is this?" You've heard Jack’s wondering voice behind you. In the calmness of the bunker's kitchen, you were making some family recipe soup for dinner. You’ve had a bowl of flour, a glass of milk and eggs lying on the table before you.

“I was about to make some dumplings. Do you want to help me?” It seemed to peak his interest even more.

“Sure!” He nodded enthusiastically, but then his smile faltered slightly. He looked at you, almost frightened, “I don’t know how to do it. Are you sure I will not ruin anything?”

You scoffed at that, but felt your heart tighten in your chest. You were so going to have a serious conversation with the Winchesters about their behaviour around your boy.

“Honeypie, people make mistakes and that’s okay.” You took his right hand in yours and gave it a reassuring squeeze, “It doesn't mean you should give up if you can’t do something perfectly the first time, most people can't. You just gotta try again and again until you’re satisfied with the result. It'll get better eventually, especially if you have someone to assist you in the process." You ruffled his hair lovingly and it made him smile.

“Alright then.”

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Inside No.9 masterlist

* - means I can write romance for this character ** - means I can write smut/nsfw things

General

Coming soon...

Nigel (The Riddle of the Sphinx) **

~Imagines~

Being Nigel's favourite student

Thomas Drake (Bernie Clifton's Dressing Room) **

~Imagines~

Comforting Thomas after one of his employees reminded him of his past.

Being a new employee and developing a crush on Thomas that might be mutual.

~Headcanons~

Dating Thomas.

Jim (The Understudy) **

~Headcanons~

Dating Jim.

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Come a little bit closer.

pt.1

summary: When your dear friend Otto Octavius invited you for a regular cup of coffee and a chat, you never imagined it would end up being something more. warnings: none in this part, but the next one is 🍋 requested by: @politicstanner So uhh... It's not exactly followed your request, so if you want me to write another work that will be more fluffy, message me! Hope you like it anyway and sorry in advance. wc: 1.2k A/N: Can be read as post-NWH Otto or just alternative reality to Spider-Man 2 Woo-hoo! It’s already 326 followers here! I can’t believe it guys, love you all! ♥ Thank you for reading my works!

Today, Otto invited you to his flat to catch up after another week of hard work on another genius project of his. You have been friends for many years now, and it has become a common occurrence for you to meet from time to time to check in on each other. You would often just sit and talk, telling stories about your life, sharing your thoughts and plans for the future. You seemed to never bore one another, being able to find subjects to talk about for hours, almost literally about anything and everything.

Sometimes, if you were exceptionally lucky and Octavius was in this compliant mood, you were able to coax him into doing a movie marathon. But it is a very rare occasion. After all, he was still a freshly redeemed supervillain, and as a capable and promising scientist, one of the terms of his freedom ordeal was the job of creating technical marvels for society’s benefit and development. It was a demanding job, but the older man seemed to enjoy it, even under pretty strict government control. He wanted it. He wanted to be a better person; he wanted to create a better future; he wanted, no, needed to be useful to benefit the world he nearly destroyed because of his pride that overshadowed his brilliant mind.

He swore to never return to this mindset again; to do anything in his power, and even beyond that, to prevent this kind of catastrophe. At least until the day he died. And he kept his word. He was a good man, and that was one of the traits that made you fall in love with him.

And currently, sitting in his warm kitchen, nursing the cup of already cold coffee in your equally cold hands, you tried very hard to stay focused and listen to what he was saying, but were failing miserably. Otto was explaining to you his current experiment with microtechnology (or something along the line, you were not sure about the exact name of it, and at this point you were too scared to ask) and how useful it could be. He said it was the future. A revolution.

His human arms were moving animatedly, expressing the emotions he felt and couldn’t verbalise fully with his voice and words. His fingers danced in the air, drawing bizarre patterns with the grace of a ballet dancer. His metallic arms acted in the same manner, moving rapidly around the small room, almost knocking over a kettle that was a bit too close to the edge of the stove and a cup of Otto’s beverage.

His round face was radiating with excitement, cheeks dusted with a faint pink, making his feature glow. A huge, proud, and enthusiastic smile did not leave his lips for a second, stretching them wildly. It’s been a long time since you last saw him like this. Happy and joyful. So free and open. You knew that at this moment, his exceptional mind was racing with all of these new ideas he had yet to try out, and his heart was full of hope about the better future that he could provide. You know him too well by now.

He truly was a vision, and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from this beautiful, intelligent, and very passionate man in front of you. Being so enamoured with him, you failed to hear him calling for you. Only when his smile faltered, turning into a slightly confusional frown, did you stir, like waking up from your dreamy state.

You cleared your throat and blinked a couple of times, trying to cover up your embarrassment and dig out from your clouded brain at least some of the words he said for the last hour. The blood rushed to your cheeks, making your face grow extremely hot.

"What? Sorry, I… Uhh"

A smile left Otto’s face entirely, and a shameful scowl took its place.

"No, no, Y/n, my dear, no need to apologise. I am the one who should be apologising. I must be boring you with all of this nonsense, talking for hours… But you have to forgive this little sin to an old man, I haven’t had an audience in quite a long time. It must be my long-forgotten professor's side letting me know that it's still somewhere deep inside of m-"

"No!" You interrupted him, and your voice sounded way louder than you intended, bouncing off the walls right into your ears.

You cringed internally and continued to speak, trying desperately to come up with an excuse for your absent attention, "No, Otto, you’re not boring me at all! I love listening to you! I really do. You know it. It’s just… you know how little I understand about maths and physics. And all these numbers and reactions, it’s nothing but magic for me, you know."

You gave him a sheepish smile and cleared your throat again. The older man relaxed noticeably after your little confession and chuckled understandingly.

"Ah, I see. Well, maybe I could simplify it a little bit?"

You nodded enthusiastically, and the tension in your body melted away in relief.

"Yeah, it would be awesome. Think of me as one of your dumbest students. Professor Octavius."

You did not know what kind of strange force possessed you at this very moment, but you did not question your choice of words and the audacity to give him a playful wink, until you saw his eyebrows go up and his cheeks turn two shades darker. He averted his eyes for a moment and coughed into his hand. You were ready to run away for good with the crushing embarrassment of your foolish behaviour, wishing for the ground to open up and swallow you, but were stopped by a small grin crooking the side of his mouth.

He shook his head slightly, as if not believing in what you just did or maybe shaking away some of his own thoughts, and chuckled lightly.

"Very well, then, my dear student."

The sudden change in his tone, now just an octave deeper and with a touch of rasp that could have been missed if you hadn’t listened to his voice so intently, sent a delightful shiver down your spine. When his soft brown eyes bore into yours all of a sudden, you make the greatest effort to control your body from shaking visibly.

After this short moment of… something, you were not entirely sure what to call everything that happened in these few seconds or if any of this was not your overly-vivid imagination. Everything went back to normal again. Or almost everything. The man before you was still the same old Otto you knew, still an excited scientist happy to share his knowledge with anyone who would listen. He was still a man proud of his intelligence and work, but you could sense that something in the air between you shifted just slightly.

His eyes darkened just enough to turn the soft brown into burnt umber. His lips curled just enough to make his smile look just a little more sinister. His body drew closer, shortening the distance between you just enough for you to catch on to his cologne.

Maybe it was just your wishful thinking, that hidden desire you had for the older man who captured you with his kind words and bright mind, like a spider would capture a fly in his web. You never let your feelings out, tucking them in so deep that you sometimes forget that what you felt was a little bit more than just simple admiration. And now, when his eyes were travelling up and down your body, almost as if he was studying you, taking in any subtle change in your body language, you finally remembered.

These heavy gates of social norms and fears of your anxious mind, which were holding in your darkest fantasies and deepest desires, finally opened.

And you were afraid of what was behind those barricades.

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comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! ♥

Imagine the Duke bandaging up your wounds

“Ah-ah-ouch!” you yelped when the man poured a generous amount of alcohol on your open wound, washing away the gore and blood and disinfecting it. 

A wild lycanthrope attacked you while you were minding your own business, harvesting the last cabbages of the season. It was outrageous. The beasts were supposed to stay out of the village, hunting outside of the visible grounds. They became more daring and hungrier with each passing day. Despite an agreement between mother Miranda and the citizens of the village, Heisenberg obviously did not care about his monsters' whereabouts and gave zero fucks about the harm they caused.

And that’s how you ended up in the carriage of the local merchant—the Duke. The man, the legend, the mystery. He did not only let you into the safety of his little cart, but also kindly offered to bandage your injury. All for free. You would be lying if you said his gentle touch and kind words were not welcomed, even before this whole nasty situation with werewolves.

When Duke tightened the fabric around the wound, a sharp pain struck your arm and you hissed at the feeling. You wanted to be stoic; you wanted him to think that you were tougher than you looked, but being an ordinary human, you couldn’t help but show your discomfort. The merchant winced as if he himself was in pain and patted your hand gently. He did not want to cause you more pain, but it was necessary.

“Oh, you poor little thing.” He cooed soothingly and stroked your cheek with his free hand. You hoped he did not notice how your breath hitched at the contact. “Those things hurt you pretty bad. I must have a word with Lord Heisenberg about his pets.”

The slight hint of anger in his voice warmed your insides and made the pain slowly melt away. It was touching that he cared enough for you, a simple customer, as he called all of the villagers, to feel something and even confront one of the lords on your behalf. It was tempting to think he gave you special treatment, but you guessed he would be kind enough to treat any of the villagers like that. Of course, you would never dare be so bold to actually ask about it, giving preference to simply basking in the feeling.

requested by anon

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Imagine cuddling with The Duke in his carriage during a storm.

gif credit: unknown, tag the op or dm me please requested by anon

The sounds of rumbling thunder were deafening, you felt like a tiny mouse, who was trapped in a box, while a giant mean child was shaking it and laughing at your little frightened form.

The sound of rainstorm pounding on the roof of the Emporium and the wind howling outside were not pleasant in the slightest, but you’ve had the best heating pillow and most comforting company in the whole world — the owner of this surprisingly not so small carriage — The Duke.

You were nestled on top of his stomach, wrapped in his huge arms, as if in a cocoon of warmth and softness. He was rocking your body in a soothing manner, murmuring sweet nothing in your ear and his voice vibrated through your entire body, lulling you into calm.

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Imagine being Rowena apprentice.

requested by @gabrielasilva1510

Learning magic was a hard work. The task become even harder if you have not had no natural powers, but Rowena MacLeod was not the one who was afraid of a little challenge. Especially when you were such a dedicated student.

Admittedly, it was hard to stay focused in her presence, but you were determined to be a witch (and at this point you would do anything to please her). So you were working your butt off to perform the best you could. And after a few weeks of sweating and swearing you finally had cast a charm of obsession on this random waiter.

"Fabulous!" It was a delight to see her proud smile and hear her praise. "Alright, dearie, I think you're ready for the next level."

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Imagine being nervous about your interview for the new job and Captain tries to comfort you.

requested by anon: Hiya! I was wondering if you could do a captain x reader from BBC ghosts <3 no worries if not I just love him too much

Now that the interview was over, you could do nothing but wait for the answer. It was nerve-wracking to say the least. Your tense figure marched from one corner of the library to the other in a foolish attempt to calm a rapidly beating heart in your chest. Hands fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, teeth biting in the flesh of now swollen lips.

“You did great!” Sudden male voice makes you jump and nearly fall on a well-worn carpet under your feet. You snapped your head in the direction where the sound came from and found none other than your favorite middle-aged moustached ghost in WW2 uniform, standing there, looking somewhat guilty now that he had nearly made you one of the Button’s House resident for good.

“Damn you, Cap!” You wheezed, hand flyed to clutch at the fabric on your chest.

“Good lord, sorry! Didn’t mean to startle you.”

He ducked his head a little and awkwardly patted his rop on the side of his thigh. You dismissed him with the wave of your hand and plopped on the small ancient couch beside the table.

“S'alright... And thanks. But I don’t know, I think I effed it up… I was bubbling and laughing! Ughh!” You threw your hands and sighed in frustration.

“Why, I think you were great! A passion is a good trait for a soldier.” He wasn’t looking at you, suddenly shy and nervous. What did he know about the modern world and the work of the Art Director, whoever that was? Nothing. But he knew you by now, how smart you were, how hard-working and brave. Any employer should hire you right on the spot, in his humble opinion. “If they won’t give you this job, they’re damn fools!”

You turned your tired eyes to him and smiled. He looked like he was honestly believing his words, his eyes soft but assuring. Somehow it calmed your anxiety slightly, not much maybe, but just enough to take a breath again in many hours.

“Thank you.”

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