can i have her hair please

Advocates for Chaos

Next

“You might be wondering why I’ve gathered you all here,” Wilford Warfstache places both hands palms-down on the table before him and grins at the several other figments seated before him.

Anti glitches in his seat. “I was promised pizza!”

“And you brought me here at gunpoint,” Peevils says, crossing her arms over her chest. “Not that I mind.” She shrugs and winks at Wilford, who shudders.

Natemare kicks his feet up on the table and leans back in his seat. “And I didn’t think you even liked me.” He grins at Wilford and cocks his head to the side. “Frankly, I’m flattered.”

Bim fixes his glasses and glances around at the other Egos at the table, somewhat skittish. “And I um… well, I’m not really sure why I’m here. I mean, I am Bim Trimmer, but you guys are… are…”

Wilford raises an eyebrow at him. “Are what?”

Bim presses his lips together into a thin line. “Never mind, I retract my previous statement in the interest of not dying.” He looks down at his folded hands on the table, and Wilford nods.

MadPat tinkers with an alarm clock attached to a bundle of TNT and doesn’t even look up as he says, “I’d like to point out that I’m on a time limit here and would not like to be held up much further.” His eyes cut upwards to Wilford, “So please tell us why we’re here already.”

Wilford wiggles his mustache. “Esteemed guests, friends, enemies, I’ve brought you here today… in the name of chaos.”

Anti’s pointed ears prick up, and the glitch leans in. “’m listening.”

Peevils rolls her eyes. “Oh, please.”

Wilford makes a face at her and goes back to his prepared speech. “For too long, those of us with a knack for the unnatural have been suppressed, or worse, left to our own devices. In such situations we tend to be a bit,” Wilford brushes his hair back with a smile, “lethal.”

Bim clears his throat. “Um, I really don’t think that I…”

“CAN IT, TRIMMER! AND LET ME FINISH!” Wilford straightens his bowtie as Bim clams up again and breathes a slow sigh to calm himself down. “Now, it has come to my attention that ‘murdering’ is considered ‘illegal’ and therefore, ‘shouldn’t be a recreational activity.’ So, I’ve decided to put my skills to a more appropriate use, and that’s why I’ve gathered you all here today.”

MadPat sets his bomb aside with a sigh and leans back in his chair. “You brought us all together because we tend to cause trouble. Fine, I get that. But what exactly is the purpose here? Are we going to go out and solve crimes? Prank people? I need something a little more concrete than ‘recreational chaos that doesn’t involve murder’ before I commit.”

Wilford squints at him and mutters something under his breath. “I had hoped that maybe some of you would be a little forthcoming with ideas considering that I did the work in getting you all here together despite the egregious differences in schedules, Mister I-just-cancelled-my-sixth-game.”

Mad jumps up and grabs his bomb. “Well, I think that’s enough for me. I’ll be leaving before this explodes.”

Natemare groans. “See, this is why you can never have any fun. You suck the fun right out of everything. I like Wilford’s idea!”

Wilford places a hand over his heart and looks genuinely flattered, but Peevils laughs and gets up from the table. “I’m with the nerd. You’ll need to give me a much better reason than ‘chaos’ to commit my precious time.” She bats her eyes up at MadPat who seems mildly offended that she called him a nerd, but it’s not like he can deny it.

Anti pouts and glitches around into different chairs before settling back into his own seat. “This sucks! I wanted to destroy stuff!”

Bim gets up and inches towards the door, sees the way that Mad and Peevils are looking at him, and inches back. “And I’m extremely uncomfortable at the moment, so I’d really like to leave now.”

Wilford fluffs his hair, making it go wild, and sighs in exasperation. “Well, fine. Never mind that I put hours of work into this!”

Peevils screeches all of sudden, and Mare laughs as his purple mist slithers away from her. “YOU!” She screams. “What did you do?”

Mad shakes his bomb as he explains. “His mist creates hallucinations of one’s deepest fears.” He tilts his head to the side, trying to see into her eyes. “What did you see?”

Peevils throws her hands out towards Natemare, and the figment disappears and reappears inside the reflective glass of the table, smashing his fists against the surface. She wiggles her fingers at him. “Maybe you’ll think twice next time before scaring a girl, huh?”

Mare snarls at her before throwing his weight against the glass just as Bim tries to bend it to let him out. The result is a splintering explosion of glass and light, and when the dust settles, everyone is looking around, trying to figure out what just happened. Mad holds up his hands. “It wasn’t me!”

Wilford peeps out from behind the potted plant he ducked behind and looks around at them. “Maybe this was a mistake…”

Just as he says this, Dark bursts into the room, and Wilford expects him to start yelling about how he can’t trust Wilford to do anything without blowing something up blah, blah, blah. But instead, the black and white Ego rushes over to Wilford, eyes alight with fear and concern. “Are you ok? I heard a blast, and I thought somebody must’ve gotten hurt…”

Wilford’s jaw drops open. “Oh goodness giggly gooses, what on Earth did we just do?”

foster parent au pt iii

pt i   pt ii   pt iii

CW: some implied racist BS, some major assholery, and K telling someone to fuck their mother in Mandarin.


“You are acting strange,” says Kei.

Cassian doesn’t look up from his coffee. Two sugars, milk, and all the essays from his eighth grade world history class, and he still apparently does not have enough of a shield to keep Kei from commenting. Then again, nothing keeps Kei from commenting. It’d be like trying to stop a tsunami with a plastic spork. “I’m tired. It’s been a long week.”

“It’s Wednesday.”

Cassian lifts one shoulder in a shrug, and uncaps his red pen. “Long week.”

Kei scoffs. “That is fallacious.”

He scratches out a misspelled word, and says, “Sure.”

“You are humoring me,” says Kei. “Do you not want to discuss what is making you act so strange?”

“I’m at work,” says Cassian. “So not really at the moment, no.”

“I see.” Kei sips at his tea. “I hope you are aware that no matter how unpalatable I may find hearing about your romantic escapades, if there are issues, I would be obliged to listen.”

Cassian can’t decide if he wants to laugh or choke.  How does one say the one person I never thought I’d see again in my lifetime is apparently the mother of two of my favorite students? “There are no romantic escapades.”

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8

GIVE ME THIS SKIN BLIZZARD. I NEED MY ANGEL IN UNIFORM! I WANT. I NEED. JUST DO IT. 


-UPDATE-*screams* ASKLJDL:KJDL:FKJ:SLDKJF:LSDJG:LAJ:FLDJKS:LDKNG:LAEFLDKJFLS:IDGNL:AJEF:LISROGIJ:SLDKJF:LDKJFGLKNDF:IMAOSIFJ:ILEJSFIOJ

YYYYYYYYYYYYYAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! PPPPPPLLLLLLEEEEAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!


ANOTHER UPDATE!!!!! 

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!

THE NEED IS SO GREAT!!!!!!!! SOON MY DEAR SOOONNNNNNNNN!!!!!! 

<3 __<3 


*Final Update*

I did it. I have her new skin. I can die happy. 

Just a Sterek drabble I wrote on this rainy Sunday afternoon because I started my day off watching an absolutely SOUL-CRUSHING ep of House, M.D. and needed a little something to cheer myself up afterwards.

In case it’s not your thing: this fic features Stiles/OMC, but not for long. ;) Rated T, under 1k words

Sometimes Stiles’ new boyfriend can be fairly awesome, like when they stay up until three a.m. together playing video games and making out, or like that time… like… Well, pretty much all the examples Stiles can think of right now are sex things, but. But Jake’s a nice guy, kind of. He’s hot. He’s so hot Stiles still can’t believe he wants to date Stiles, and there are times when he can be a lot of fun.

Then there are the times (like today) that have Stiles questioning all his life choices, especially this one.

“Stiles, stop texting Lydia,” Jake says. No—practically whines. Seriously.

“Uh, no?” Stiles hits send, because Jake is not the boss of him. “We’re still on the ground. We don’t have to turn our phones off yet.”

And now Jake is pouting at him, like he’s six years old. “That’s not what I mean and you know it.”

Stiles can’t help but roll his eyes. “Stop trying to tell me who I can and cannot text. It’s creepy and controlling.”

Jake tries to put his hand over Stiles’, and it actually makes Stiles’ skin crawl a little bit. Stiles crosses his arms over his chest, hands safely tucked into his armpits. In retrospect, inviting Jake along on a trip to Hawaii was probably a bad idea when they’ve only been dating for three months.

Jake crosses his arms, too. “I’m your boyfriend. I’m not allowed to get a little possessive?”

“A little possessive? This is not ‘a little possessive.’ This is annoying and ridiculous and petty and invasive and… Look, yes, I’m bisexual, but Lydia and I are just friends. We’re always going to be friends, and I’m never cutting her out of my life for a boyfriend. The end. So you can stop being a jealous dick—”

“Or what?”

Stiles can’t believe they’re having this conversation right now. “Or maybe we shouldn’t be dating after all.”

Jake runs a hand through his sandy blond prince-charming hair and snorts. “Please, this relationship is over when I say it is. Or do you seriously think anyone else is lining up to date you?”

For a moment Stiles is actually speechless, because how has he spent the last three months thinking this guy was attractive? How did he overlook this level of douchebaggery? Some kind of witchcraft, probably.

That’s when the guy in the row ahead of them turns around in his seat, looks Stiles straight in the eye, and says without even one hint that he’s joking, “I would date you.”

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What I like

Bucky x Reader

Summary: no plot, just porn

Word Count: 868 | Rating: R

Warnings: SMUT. oral (f receiving)

A/N: um… i woke up horny

Tip: read this in bucky’s voice *casually sips tea*

I like it when she stands next to the door, shoulder resting on its frame, and when she has that glint of mischief in her smile, and eyes that are already brimming with lust, dark and wild and motivated to wreck me.

I like it when she walks inside, in just my wrinkled shirt, the hem of which reaches till her mid-thighs. She walks in with an intention to bring me down to my knees.

I like it when she pushes me back on the bed, legs straddling my body, hands freely roaming over my bare chest, nails drawing red angry marks. And I like it when she smirks, feeling my heart thrumming underneath her assault.

I like when she leans down, lips pressing against my neck, hips teasingly rolling down on mine, pulling a mewl of her name as a warning to behave.

Keep reading

Rewatching Carmilla and this scene will never not be hilarious to me. Not only because of the scene itself, but thinking of what must’ve led up to it.

That look on Carmilla’s face is the look of someone who just had to sit through hours of Laura’s craft making in order to make a puppet show production of her tragic backstory.

Laura: “Okay, so who all was involved in this story?”
Carmilla: “Can’t I just tell you already?”
Laura: “No, I need to make corresponding puppets.”

Laura: “What color hair did this Ell girl have?”

Carmilla: “Are you almost done?”
Laura: “No, I still need to sketch and shade in some wooden designs on this cardboard to really make it look like a stage.”
Carmilla: “But it’s cardboard.”
Laura: “With curtains.”

Laura: “Just gonna borrow some of your candles for ambience.”

Carmilla: “Can you please just stake me?”
Laura: “I’m just finishing the hair on your mom’s puppet. Can you pass me that yarn?”
Carmilla: *gives her the most deadpan expression in her arsenal*
Laura: “Oh, right…your hands are a little…I’ll just get it myself.”

Claudia Martinez | sim download

so it’s happening, i’m sharing my baby!! I have played with her since she was a chubby tot! and she grew up to be such a humble, beautiful, caring yet stubborn sim haha!

food is her passion and she works as a master chef in san myshuno! (you can read more about her story in the description when you’ve downloaded her.) ^-^

TOU:

  • please don’t re-upload.♡
  • give me credit if you use her as a base sim.♡
  • please tag me so I can see her in your game! ♡

IMPORTANT CUSTOM CONTENT!!

How To Install?

Extract the archive, then put the 5 files into your Tray folder.

Documents / Electronic Arts / The Sims 4 / Tray.

if you want to start fresh (no career, skills etc) you can simply make a twin ya know

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download (simfileshare)

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valentine’s day // dylan o’brien

Summary: Dylan falls in love with a girl who hates Valentine’s Day

Requested: no

Pairing: Dylan & Y/N

Warning: yes, mature language, themes, & smut throughout

Masterlist

His long legs extended across her lap as he took a large gulp of the amber liquid. Sighing contently, he placed the glass bottle on the floor and snuggled deeper into his couch. Her hands were lazily drapped over his feet as she focused on the television. The movie that they had been watching was fairly interesting although she was having a bit of a hard time following the plot.

“Wait, is he the sister’s boyfriend?” Y/N asked her best friend who shook his head in return.

“No, that’s the guy they met at the bar who looks like the boyfriend.” Dylan explained.

Furrowing her eyebrows, Y/N continued to watch the film hoping somewhere along the way things would make sense.

This was their routine. Every Friday night for the past 3 years was spent on his lumpy couch drinking beer, eating pizza, and watching movies. As the ending credits started, Y/N let out a soft yawn as she extended her arms.

“What did you think?” Dylan asked, eager to know what she thought of the film. “I thought she was going to pick the boyfriend’s brother’s friend.” Y/N admitted with a giggle, thinking about the cliched love triangle movie she just watched. “The ending was very unexpected.”

Pulling his feet off of her lap, he sat on the edge of the couch.

“What about you?” She called out as he walked to the kitchen with his empty beer bottle.

“I was routing for the boyfriend’s brother’s friend too.” His laugh echoed throughout the kitchen.

Their friendship consisted of watching cheesy romance movies together, texts at 3am when they couldn’t sleep, and the comfort of knowing that they always had someone they could count on. It was completely platonic.

Keep reading

Ok but I just want to take a moment to consider the idea of Delphine actually being accepted into the family:

- Felix and Delphine having drinks and sharing hair products and Felix painting her as they discuss their favourite style icons

- Alison showing her the craft room and coming back a few hours later to find the surfaces covered with handmade cards (the main one being one with a big red heart and the words ‘je t'aime’ in the middle) and Delphine sitting there with glitter on her nose looking pleased with herself like ‘I’ve never done anything artsy before’

- teaching Kira French so that they can have secret conversations at dinner time and Kira calling her ‘auntie Delphine’

- being left on 'Helena duty’ which involves making sure she doesn’t accidentally kill anyone, introducing her to French food and discovering she’s really good with Helena’s twins

- going on holiday to England (aka the only European destination she hasn’t been shipped off to yet) and Mrs S being her tour guide for the best pubs in the U.K.

- Sarah getting all defensive if anyone says anything against her sister in law and refusing to admit that Delphine’s hugs are actually the best (she found out when she finally thanked her for everything she’d done for the sisters)

- her and Cosima being genuinely happy for once and going on actual dates sharing bottles of wine by the river and going on midnight walks so that they can stargaze and visiting markets to buy each other cute presents and getting drunk and arguing about science and falling asleep on the sofa only halfway through a film

master-sass-blast  asked:

Right. So. Might be mildly addicted to your 'Gods and Monsters' series. Definitely need an intervention, but I'll prolly ignore that anyway, so... anyway, can you do something with Zeus and Hera? I've always thought it was massively whack that the goddess of fidelity was with --according to Greek mythos--one of the biggest adulterers on Olympus. Definitely smelling a bit of an abusive relationship there, if you catch my drift... okay byeeeee

Hera, the young goddess of marriage and family, is only unfaithful to her husband once.

She seduces Zeus first, right as the war ends and they’re all pain and ash and thrumming with the excitement of victory. She smiles just so and touches his bloody chest, her hand pale against the dark copper of his skin and, and when he looks at her his eyes spark with the lightning he so easily commands. She is named his wife that very night, her body littered with bruises from his rough, eager hands, and she tells herself the bile at the back of her throat tastes like victory.

She is queen of the gods. This is what she wants.

They’ve all claimed their domains and gone their separate ways, Demeter to the earth, Hades to the underworld, and Hestia to Olympus where they plan to build their palace. But Poseidon still lingers. “Don’t you have an ocean to conquer?” she asks.

He looks at her, then behind her to where Zeus is busy sketching plans for Olympus. “You don’t have to do this,” he says softly, “you – you can come with me if you want. Or I’m sure Hades would take you.”

Hera has no time for Poseidon and his soft heart. “I will only belong to the best,” she says, tossing her head so her crown of curls fall over her shoulder. “You should go. You have work to do.”

“There are more important things than power,” he says uncomfortably, shifting from foot to foot.

“No,” she says, “there aren’t.”

~

Hera would not mind Zeus’s women so much if they were not constantly giving him children, something she has been unable to do.

She is an obedient wife. She does not turn her powers against him, and she’s tolerant of his mortals at first, but the longer she is empty of child the less patience she has. How can she be the goddess of family without one of her own?

Her spite gets in her way, and she hurls every kind of obstacle and curse she can at the woman her husband lies with. At first he is angry with her, and bruises litter her throat and wrists. Then, as her wrath and powers grow, he is afraid of her. He watches her warily, sneaking to the mortal realm when before he wouldn’t even try to hide it. He submits when she pins him to the bed and rides him hard, desperate for a child of his, desperate to fulfill the perfect image of wife and mother she’s built for herself.

No matter her magic, no matter how many times they lie together, Hera does not get with child.

She goes to Hestia, and her sister presses a hand to her stomach and purses her lips and says, “Must it be his child?”

Hera stares. She’s the goddess of marriage and family. She is not capable of infidelity. “I – I can’t.”

“Just once,” Hestia says, “the problem is not with you, nor with him, clearly. Only the combination of you both. Lie with any other man, and you will have your child.”

So Hera, just once, puts on a disguise and goes to the mortal realm. She finds a man with skin darker than Zeus’s, a rich warm brown that matches his soft eyes. She lies with him, and it hurts. He is kind and patient and kisses the edge of her jaw, her shoulders, her navel. But to be unfaithful grates against her very nature as a goddess, and every moment is agony. He finishes, his mouth whispering kind things against her own, and she leaves as soon as she can.

It works. She becomes round with child, and is happier than she’s been in a long time. She does not mind Zeus’s mortals, and he even becomes kinder while the baby grows inside of her. His hands become softer, and he spends less time away from Olympus.

The baby is born, and Zeus is furious.

The child is too dark to be his, and he tears it from Hera’s hands while she lies exhausted from the birth. “What do you care?” she cries, struggling to stand, “You have dozens of children. What does it matter if I have one?”

He holds the baby in one hand and grabs her jaw with the other, pulling her to her knees. “You are my wife,” he hisses, “the goddess of marriage and family. You will have my child, or no child at all.”

He throws the baby from Mount Olympus. Hera screams, pushing herself away from him and attempting to jump after it. Zeus catches her around the waist, and with a crackle of power and roar of rage, he sends a lightning bolt after the baby.

The child may have survived the fall, but not the lightning.

“NO!” Hera screeches, clawing at his arm as she struggles to escape his grasp. Normally she’s not this helpless against him, but delivering her baby has left her weaker than she’s ever been before.

He presses the flat of his hand against her swollen womb, adding pressure until she cries out in pain and tries to squirm away from him. “My child,” he repeats, voice low and terrible, “or no child at all.”

He lets her go, and she collapses, grasping out a hand over the edge of Olympus. But the blood between her thighs is still wet, and she can’t find the energy to stand. She wonders if she’ll have to crawl down the mountain to retrieve her baby’s corpse.

“Sister!” Soft hands grab her shoulder and gently roll her onto her back. Hestia’s face fills her vision, and Hera has never seen the older goddess of hearth and fire look so cold. “I’ll kill him,” she says, hands hovering over Hera like she’s not sure where to begin. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t think this would happen, I didn’t think he would – I didn’t think.”

Hera curls on her side until she can place her head in her sister’s lap. She’s not sobbing anymore, she’s never been one to fall into hysterics, but she can’t stop crying, a steady stream of tears dripping silently down her face. Hestia runs trembling hands through her hair. “Don’t,” she whispers, “I did this, this is my fault. I – I should have known better.”

Hestia’s hand cup her face, leaning over so she can look her in the eye. “This is not your fault.”

Her sister stands and picks her up in her arms. Hera tries to tell her to put her down, that Zeus will be angry if she leaves, that she did this to herself. But she falls unconscious before she can get any of it out.

~

Hera awakens someplace soft and warm. She opens her eyes, and she’s inside Hades’s palace. Her confusion lasts only until her memories come rushing back, and then she has to bite her lip until it bleeds to stop herself from crying out.

“Hestia brought you here. She’s returned to Olympus to cover for you both. Do not worry – Zeus doesn’t know where you are.” She turns her head, and sees the goddess of magic at her side. Hecate smiles, “I have mended you, do not worry. All is well.”

All is not well. That statement is so far from true, and her instant urge is to crush Hecate to dust for the audacity. Before she can make up her mind one way or the other, there’s a soft knock on the door. It opens to reveal her elder brother. “I have something that belongs to you,” he says, and Here focuses on the bundle in the crook of his elbow.

Her baby’s corpse. She’s relieved someone thought to get it. Her heart feels like lead, and all the control she’d had over her emotions is gone instantly. She hopes they’ll leave her alone to hold the body of her child and weep.

Hades gingerly sits on the edge of the bed, and Hecate rises to help Hera prop herself up so she’s at least sitting. “He’s a strong little thing,” Hades says, and Hera doesn’t understand.

Then a warm, wriggling baby is placed in her arms. He’s got great big eyes and his mouth splits into a toothless grin when he sees her. “He’s alive,” she says numbly.

“Not without sacrifice,” Hecate says softly, and reaches over to undo the blanket he’s swaddled in.

Her son has no legs below his knees.

“Zeus’s lightning bolt didn’t kill him, but we cannot return what was lost,” Hades says, pained. “When he’s older, maybe we can do something, give him something in place of legs. But for now, there’s nothing I can do.”

The king of the underworld is the most powerful god after her husband. Hera knows that, even if Zeus doesn’t. If Hades can’t do anything about her son’s legs, then no can. But he’s alive, Zeus didn’t manage to kill him, and Hera finds herself so grateful that she’s holding a smiling, living child that she can’t be anything but relieved. Her son is alive, and happy. He doesn’t need legs.

“I can’t bring him back to Olympus,” she looks up at them, “Can you find someone to raise him? Someone you trust?”

She doesn’t trust anyone, so it can’t be her choosing.

“You’re going back to him?” Hecate demands, “Hestia said – but I thought for sure – you don’t have to! Don’t go back to him!”

“I must,” she holds her son to her chest, and he reaches out with chubby hands to tug at her hair. “I am the goddess of marriage, and he is my husband.”

Hecate stares, aghast. “Don’t – don’t, Hera. Please. Stay here. Hades will protect you.”

She looks up at her brother, and he raises an eyebrow. He would protect her, he would put himself in between her and Zeus’s wrath if she asked him to. But she won’t, and she thinks he knows it. She says, “I am Hera of the Heights, of Argos, of the Mound. I am the cow eyed, white armed goddess of marriage and of family. I am Hera, queen of the gods.” She looks down at her son, and her heart clenches, because for now a title that cannot be afforded to her is that of mother. “I will not abandon my dominion, nor my husband. I will return to Mount Olympus.”

“But you don’t love him,” Hecate says helplessly.

Hera stares, baffled that anyone could think her marriage had anything to do with love. “Of course not. But this isn’t about love. It’s about power.”

The goddess of magic swallows, then says, “I will raise him.”

Even Hades is surprised by that. “Hecate?”

“I will raise him,” she repeats, “He will stay with me, safe in the underworld where Zeus cannot find him, until he’s old enough and strong enough to protect himself.”

“Thank you,” Hera says, and lowers her head enough to kiss the top of her son’s head. “Tell him that I’m the one that threw him from Olympus.” When she looks up, Hades is resigned while Hecate looks on in horror. “Tell him, tell everyone. I gave birth to a hideous son, and I threw him from Olympus. His legs were crushed in the fall. I did this. Zeus tried to stop me, but could not.”

“Why?” Hecate asks.

Hera smiles down at her son, her heart full with a helpless sort of love. “So that when he ventures from the safety of the underworld, Zeus will have no reason to hurt him. So that when he comes to Olympus, Zeus will be unable to hurt him without explaining he was the one that tried to kill him in the first place.” She runs the back of her finger down his cheek, and he grabs it, his little fist holding onto her. “Blame me, and he will be safe.”

Hecate looks like she wants to argue. Hades puts a hand on her shoulder and asks Hera, “What’s his name?”

Her son smiles, and tugs at her hand, the beginnings of a giggle gurgling in his throat.

“His name is Hephaestus.”

~

When she returns, she no longer has any patience for Zeus’s mortals. When before she had only inconvenienced them, now she’s not playing any games. Those that do not die end up wishing they had, and she’s especially vindictive to any mortal carrying her husband’s child.

She sits on her throne, waiting, a smirk curled around the corner of her lips.

Zeus barges in and charges towards her. He’s so angry smoke is rising off his skin. “You,” he hisses, “this is your doing.”

“Whatever do you mean?” she asks, unflinching when he slams his hands on either side of her head, crushing the back of her throne with the force of it.

“She and the children are dead,” he snarls, “my children are dead! I know this is your doing, it reeks of your handiwork.”

Hera slides forward to the edge of her throne, their faces nearly touching, and spreads her legs. He flexes his hands, because even at his most furious he still wants her. She is his wife and his queen. She banishes her clothing so she’s spread out before him, hair piled high and jewelry glinting around her neck. “What are you going to do about it?”

He kisses her hard enough to bruise, and Hera crosses her legs around his back, urging him closer. “Why are you doing this?” he hisses, mouthing at her neck, because he hates her even as he loves her, hates her because he loves her, and loves her because he hates her.

She waits until he’s inside her to lick the shell of his ear and whisper, “My child, or no child at all, husband.”

When he breaks her skin with his teeth, she only laughs.

They do this to each other. Maybe they are meant to be together.


gods and monsters series part xv

read more from the gods and monsters series here

breyito  asked:

Hi, I know its monday and you probably have tons of things to do, but could I get some fluff, please? It's been an awful weekend(one of the most loved grandmas of the neighbourhood died saturday) and my grandma(who I haven't seen in years) died today and we can't go to her funeral. I am a breath away from an anxiaty attack and later today I have to go back to college alone, after weeks in family. So please, can I have some Tony&Peter or Tony&the bots or Tony&Harley&Peter&Rhodey fluff?? Thanks

Aw burrito. :C


Tony ran a hand through his hair and sighed, dipping his head. “Okay. All of you have new wheels. You have new screws. Dum-E has a new strut because he bent his somehow–”

Dum-E let out a happy beep and spun in a circle. Butterfingers and U watched him for a moment before following suit. Sometimes they really were like little kids that copied their older brother.

“Sir,” JARVIS said. “You speak as if Dum-E didn’t bend his strut trying to keep an engine from falling on you.”

“Shh,” Tony answered immediately, scowling.

That had been a… frightening day. Tony didn’t like to admit that he made mistakes, but he had, the chain hadn’t been checked properly, the engine hadn’t been anchored properly, Tony hadn’t done everything properly. It was his fault.

He had been so–so scared when the chain slipped and the engine started to fall–more scared that when he battled Doom Bots or sentient slime, because this–this was what he did for fun, and he’d felt a little betrayed over it, even if it had been his fault. So many calculations had run through his head and he still hadn’t been able to get out of the way in time.

And then Dum-E–dear, sweet, foolish Dum-E–had let out a terrified squeal and clenched his claw around the alternator, and the sudden weight had caused his strut to bend with the stress, almost fold in half, and his servos had whirred frantically.

Butterfingers and U had zipped over, wheels leaving burnt rubber on the floor, to hurriedly grasp the engine. They’d beeped at each other and moved together to settle the engine on the floor a few feet away as Dum-E creaked his arm down to tap Tony’s face with his claw. Tony had felt awful that Dum-E had had to damage himself to save him.

“This should stand up to any engines,” he said to himself, reaching out to run his hand over Dum-E’s strut. Dum-E rolled closer to let him. Tony smiled tremulously. “Good boy, saving your dumb old daddy.”

Dum-E let out an offended beep and shoved his open claw against Tony’s stomach, curling it just slightly so that he was holding Tony’s waist.

“Dum-E does not like it when you call yourself dumb,” JARVIS supplied.

“Oh, but it’s okay when I do it to him,” Tony said, lifting a hand to wipe away–sweat, yeah, sweat.

Dum-E pressed closer to him, chassis bumping against his knees. He beeped again. It sounded… fond.

“I love you,” Tony blurted out, wrapping his arms around the bot as well. “I know I don’t say it enough, but–I do.”

Butterfingers and U rolled over to grasp at his shirt and arm, beeping quietly.

“We love you too, Sir,” JARVIS said quietly, part translation and part sincere.

Tony pressed his forehead to Dum-E strut.

He’d kind of figured that, when Dum-E had grabbed a falling car engine to keep it from killing him at the expense of his own arm.

Someone to Watch Over Me: Part 3

Title: Someone to Watch Over Me

Author:  Dean’s Dirty Little Secret

Series Masterlist

Summary:  Dean reveals what happened to his wife.

Characters:  Dean Winchester, Female reader, Bobby Singer, Tiny, Sam Winchester (mentioned), Georgia (OFC), Melissa (OFC-mentioned), Charlie Bradbury, Tyson Brady

Word Count:  2557

Warnings:  mild language

Author’s Notes:  Inspired by (but does not necessarily follow) the movie The Bodyguard with Kevin Costner and Whitney Houston. This work was beta’d by @mamapeterson and @climbthatmooselikeatree without whose help this wouldn’t even exist. Tag list is full.

***My work is not to be posted on any other sites without my express written permission.***

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Random things I like about Rick and morty

-Beth is considered busty but her character design is overall not sexualized (bonus: the one reference to her having large breasts comes from Summer lamenting about how her breasts probably aren’t done growing yet)
-you can easily pick out familial similarities in the smith family character designs (mortys hair is the same texture as his Jerry’s, Rick and Beth have similar same head shape, Summer’s head shape is a bit between Jerry’s and Beth’s, Morty and Summer have their dad’s eyes and skin tone)
-that one time when Morty went on an anti-censorship rant against Summer about how she’s too sensitive and the world isn’t responsible for pleasing her and Rick immediately shuts him down with “I take it you didn’t get a text back from Jessica”
-squanchy is a mishmash of 80s cartoon tropes (creature that says it’s name a bunch and ‘lovable’ annoying animal sidekick there to be cute and sell toys, ironic as squanchy has appeared like twice)
-the irony of squanchy being a parody of said trope only for Mr poopybutthole to legitimately fulfill the role
-Summer having her own character arc throughout the show
-Beth’s pathology (I’ll add a link l8r I’m on mobile but the entry on the wiki about her is fascinating and really shows how well thought out everything is)
-the show giving just enough plot advancement at the perfect pace, keeping the audience satisfied but wanting more (unlike that OTHER show) ((reminder that we still know nothing about evil Morty, what Ricks crimes are, the specifics of his and the resistances hatred of the government, why he left Beth and Diane specifically, the time Jerry was raped at summer camp (idk maybe they won’t do anything with it but I feel like there’s something coming like Jerry breaking down or consoling in someone))
-Jerry being the typical dumb dad but in like a new way (not just a Homer Simpson clone)
-Jerry is in marketing and I feel like this is supposed to be a joke about how characters in movies are always in marketing because it’s an excuse for product placement but Jerry only makes ads for like very generalized products (hungry for apples?)
-Jerry is queer and Rick is queer coded and it’s so casual I love it
-A lot of people think Morty is supposed to be autistic and I wouldn’t put it past the show to do it (also suggested in the very first episode)
-doofus rick
-Mr jellybean and the show constantly giving the middle finger to lesser animated adult comedies and also adventure time

"I'll give you on chance..."

After a successful dungeon our party consisting of a half elf, a half orc, and halfing, went back to town to sell the loot we got, except our half orc who works at the local pub. My halfling managed to sell her stuff to a gnome but our half elf wanted to go to a higher class place to get more money… then this happened.

The merchant greeted her wonderfully and complemented her. Then Kal got his attention and he’s all, “Oh, hello child.” Kal got mad. The whole rest of the transactions were like this and he kept getting worse. Finally she got really mad.

Me: I summon a flame and if threaten to set his perfect hair on fire!

DM: You’re not serious are you?

Me: I threaten to set his hair on fire! *Rolls for intimidation* I got a… 3.

DM: He laughs at you.

Halfelf: I have a high intimidation, I could do it.

Halforc: I’m coming back over there.

Me: No! He’s been very rude! High class guy or not that’s horrible costumer service! I’m setting his hair on fire! *rolls*

DM: Please don’t-

Me: I got 20.

DM: *does facepalm*  I’ll give you one chance NOT to cast it on him.

halforc: Don’t worry I got this. I drag her out of there before she can cast it.

His Family Doesn’t Like You

She was nervous and he could tell. They had been dating for eight months when Harry asked her to live together. He bought them a house in LA, she wanted to stay in America and LA was the compromise. His family already hardly saw him and so when he made the move they weren’t happy. 

Then Anne read somewhere that Harry had paid off her loans, and he had. Anne had read that her son paid for the mortgage on the house all on his own, and he had. Gemma had read that her brother bought her a car, which he had, but none of them knew that she refused the car, the loans, the house. 

None of them knew how much she hated that Harry gave her everything, and she could give him nothing. They all saw her as a gold digger, which was far from it. She worked hard to pay off as much as she could before Harry got a hold of her loans, she hid the bills, she did her best. But Harry snooped and found them and paid them off, it was one of their biggest fights, but no one knew. Because if she complained she seemed ungrateful, and if she didn’t she was seen as a gold digger, she couldn’t win.

He did buy their house, but she helped out. She paid bills, she paid for groceries and furniture, she really did try. And when Harry bought her the car she stood her ground, he claimed her 2004 Ford would only take her so far, and she reminded him as long as it took her from point a to point b she would be fine, when she had to reach point c they would talk.

So when their house was all set and it looked just how she wanted, Harry asked to have a house warming party. He wanted his friends to see his new life, he wanted to show off the house, the cars, but more importantly he wanted to show her off.When his family heard they offered to fly out, they wanted to meet the girl he moved across countries for, they wanted to meet the girl who was draining his bank account.

Harry could tell she was nervous, she stood next to him, her hand gripping her glass. She insisted on not drinking and settled for sparkling cider, she was never much of a drinker and she didn’t want to risk being buzzed or drunk in his families presence. Harry squeezed her hand, his free one gripping his beer, his friends and her friends were all gathered around in the house and backyard. The grill was up and running and Niall offered to be in charge.

“You’ll be fine Y/N, I promise. I love you how can they not love someone I love?” Harry smiled, his thumb rubbing circles on her palm. 

She took the last sips of her cider and set the empty glass down, “’m not good when I meet people,” she mumbled, “I get all shaky.”

“You’ll be fine, they’re lovely people,” Harry chuckled. 

“I know they raised you,” she smiled, going up on her toes to kiss his cheek. 

“Harry!” He heard his mother voice call, when he turned from his spot on the deck he saw her. 

Anne stood by the door with Gemma, a wide grin on her face. She rushed over hugging Harry, Gemma followed her actions, “thank you for flying us out,” Anne says, “we just left our stuff in the living room Jeff offered to take it up stairs, he’s a wonderful man.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, “mum, Gem, this is Y/N,” Harry tugged on her arm lightly, pulling her in front of him. 

She smiled softly, “hello,” she says gently, “I’m Y/N it’s so nice to meet you.”

“Anne,” Anne says, her voice isn’t as soft as it was when she talked to Harry, it was slightly cold and she didn’t enjoy the way Anne’s look seemed to have hardened as well.

“I’m Gemma,” Gemma faked a smile, holding out her hand. 

She shook it and the clamped her hands together, “how was your flight?” she asked. 

“It was fine,” Anne’s answer was short and simple. 

It was silent and the air felt different, she peeked up at Harry, “Y/N just got accepted to the medical program at Stanford, in just a couple of years she’ll be a doctor,” Harry says, wrapping his arm around his girlfriend.

“So I assume you’ll be working all the time to pay that off?” Anne asked, her eyebrow raised. 

“Oh-well-I got a scholarship-and uh some-”

“It doesn’t matter,” Harry cut her off, “baby will you get me another beer? This one is warm.”

She nods, “would you guys like anything?”

“No.”

She turns making her way to the kitchen. She grabs the beer, taking in a deep breath. When she composes herself she walks towards the door but stops, Harry stands on the other side, his back to her as he talks to his family. 

“I just don’t get a good vibe from her Harry,” Gemma says softly. 

“She just wants money,” Anne whispered, “how can you not see that?”

“No she doesn’t-”

“Harry if a guy paid my loans, bought me a house, a car, medical school, and clothes I would stay with him as well, she likes you for your money,” Gemma says, her hand resting on Harry’s arm, “her intentions aren’t good. I’m sure she got into Stanford because of you, she’s using the benefits.”

“You guys don’t know her,” Harry snapped. 

And he was right, they didn’t know her. They didn’t know how she worked three jobs to save up to try and be the one to pay for their bill, they didn’t know how stressed Harry was every night you had a late shift. They didn’t know how much effort she put into school, into work, and then to come back home and help Harry cook. They didn’t know how Harry watched her fall asleep at the dinning table after she had worked, gone to school, worked another shift, and if she beat him home she would cook. They didn’t know how all of winter break she spent it working because she wanted to repay Harry for the loans and when she tried he refused. 

“I have money, I have so much I don’t know what to do with it, I paid your loans Gem, I have everything I need, I hate watching her work all the fucking time to pay off something I could do in a second. I hate her working three different jobs so she can buy a damn dress to show up to one of my parities when I could buy it for her and she can spends that time with me rather than serving some strangers in a diner or working at a clothing store,” Harry stated, “I love her and that’s why I do it. She doesn’t ask me for these things, I do them because it makes her less stressed. I do it for her.”

“Y/N is using you,” Anne whispered, “and now she’s taken you away from your family. Harry honey, I’ve been your age, I’ve been in love and I was blinded by it. Please just take a minute and think about it, really think about it.”

“She’s a gold digger,” Gemma says. 

And that’s when she’s break, the small sob that had been forming in her throat leaves her mouth, her hand reaching up to try and muffle it, but they all turn. She quickly turns, pushing through people and running up the stairs to their shared bedroom. She turns, locking the door behind her and pressing her back to it.

“Y/N,” Harry says softly, knocking on the door, “baby, please let me in.”

“I-I just need a minute,” she sniffled, “I-uh-I spilled something.”

“Y/N I know you heard,” Harry says, “please open up.”

She pulled open the door and Harry pushes it, forcing himself in. He frowns seeing her in the state, her eyes red, cheeks pink and puffy, tears are evident and she reaches up wiping them quickly. 

“We should go back to the party, I’m a little hungry,” she whispered, pulling the end of her cardigan and wiping the under parts of her eyes, “if my makeup smudged?”

“Baby,” Harry says, reaching for her, “I’m sorry. They have no idea what they’re talking about.”

“Please don’t,” she pulls away, “I just need-Harry it’s your family. I can’t come in between that I just-I can’t.”

“They’ll come around,” Harry says, “I’ll talk to them. Don’t-I know what you’re trying to do.”

“I can still apply to live in campus and maybe this will give us space-”

“No!” Harry yelled, running a hand threw his hair, “please. Just-y/n baby, please don’t say that.”

“Harry-”

“Just give it time, I can talk to them, they can see the real you, not the you the media portray’s,” Harry pleads. 

He reaches out for her once more and she doesn’t pull back. His arms wrap around her and she rest her head on his chest, “I love you,” Harry whispered, “and that’s all that matters.”

“I love you too,” she whispers into his shirt, “so much.”

“I know,” he nods, running a hand through her hair, “I know baby.”

They stand there, enjoying their embrace. Until she pulls away, tugging at her dress, making sure she looks decent, “we should go back,” she says, “I should probably take out the dessert so people can start to wrap it up.”

“I’ll talk to them,” Harry promises, “I love you.”

“I love you more,” she giggled, as he wrapped his arms around her waist from behind her, “Harry we have to go back downstairs!”

He rocks her side to side, picking her up, she laughs, “Harry!” 

“I just want you to go downstairs in a good mood,” he admits, setting her down, but keeping his grip on her, “why don’t you go help Niall huh?”

“Okay,” she nods. 

They make their way downstairs and she walks towards Niall at the grill. Harry leans against the wall watching her, “Harry,” Gemma says, walking up to him, a beer in her hand, “can we talk about this.”

“If you and mum are staying here, in our house, you will follow or rules,” Harry snaps, turning to the two of them, “treat her the way you want to be treated. You want to be cold towards her? Fine, but that will only create distance between us.”

youtube

dear abby column

written using a predictive text user interface

source: all dear abby columns tagged ‘teens’

animated by jamie loftus

method: program supplied 15 word options for me at each step. i wrote sentences a word at a time, then used my favorite full sentences to make the column. the animator jamie loftus then interpreted the results.

transcript:

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anonymous asked:

Prompt- Lily is on her period and James is sort of uncomfortable with the whole menstruating thing but eventually is really cool and supportive.

  • “oh my god, are you dying?”
  • james finds lily on the floor in the bathroom, covered in sweat and in a loose baggy t-shirt which he realises with a start is his
  • out of respect james hurries out before lily can scream at him
  • he takes out his phone and is ready to diall 999 and call for an ambulence because lily is literally the strongest person he knows and something must be very wrong with her to be in that sort of condition 
  • she looks like hell when she finally comes out. white, ghoulish skin, prominent eye-bags and chapped lips that could do with thousands of sweet, toe-curling kisses
  • and yet she’s still the most beautiful person he’s ever seen and he still gets those damn butterflies every time
  • “do you need me to call 999?” 
  • she’s staggering to the kitchen like she’s an 85 year old pensioner who forgot her walking stick. she’s mumbling something, her cheeks a little flushed as she sits down on a chair. something like ‘eve’s in the house’
  • he knows no one called eve
  • “i’m sorry, i didn’t catch that.”
  • “pardon?”
  • “lily, babe you really need to speak up a bit-”
  • “I SAID I’M ON MY PERIOD!”
  • “……..oh.”
  • he has no idea what to do
  • lily is obviously in a lot of pain, that much is certain; she’s just sat in a chair, going ‘bugger’ and swearing like there’s no tomorrow
  • he’s super uncomfortable because well, when he was younger he once found his mum’s tampons and lets just say when she came home they both had a humiliating and mortifying conversation 
  • he’s never had any experience (can he even call it that?) about women and their periods. what is he supposed to do?
  • but then he remembers when lily looked after him two months ago. he had the worst flu ever, was stuck in bed for 2 days, was sweaty, had a runny nose, he lost his voice and ached all over 
  • but lily was there literally through it all. she was there, to listen to him say ‘babe, if i die please dont forget to eat that tuna in the fridge because it’s been in there for two days and it’ll go off’ only for her to snort, chuckle and say that she’d nurse him back to health. and she did. 
  • so now it’s not just that he’s obligated to do the same, but, heck, she’s the love of his life
  • that’s how he ends up in tesco 20 minutes later. staring, half traumatised, at sanitary towels. 
  • does she want ?normal? or those beasts which say ultra night 100% protection? he buys both. and gets neurofen express period pain, buys a bag of maltesers and the newest cosmopolitan magazine
  • the cashier is a middle aged woman and she beams at him when it’s his turn. 
  • ‘your wife is lucky to have you. what a wonderful gentleman.’ 
  • his hand cluctches the small box inside his coat pocket almost insantaneously. he gives it a tight squeeze before smiling and hurrying back to lily’s
  • she’s on the sofa now and as soon as he gets in he rushes to the kitchen and is making her a tea before she can even ask
  • “can i have a sugar though this time, please?”
  • he doesnt even bat an eyelid when he asks how many and she says, oh so casually, “three…. and a half
  • he runs her a hot bath, puts the items on the floor and sits, twiddling his thumbs. he holds the box as he waits, maybe he’ll have to ask her another time… but as soon as he hears the bathroom door open he hides it
  • “you okay?” 
  • he sits with his arms around her, stroking her soft hair and feeding her maltesers as they sit through episode after episode of friends. 
  • she apologises and he says she has nothing to be sorry for. being there for her is the only thing he wants to do
  • she smiles. he smiles. she says she feels a little bit better now, but he still insists on making the next three rounds of tea
  • that’s when he hears her voice ring through the living room and into the kitchen
  • “james… what’s in this box?”
Homecoming- Part 2

Part 1

Music blared from her speakers as Y/N started to get ready for the dance. Singing along to the lyrics she walked into her closet, coming to a stop in front of her dresses. She still hadn’t decided what dress she was going to wear and she sighed in frustration as she looked through her walk in closet. One side of the closet was dedicated to dresses and she looked at them, trying to decide what color she wanted. Black? White? Turquoise? Red?

Her eyes landed on a pink and silver dress, hiding among the rest. She had brought this dress for last year’s homecoming but had changed her mind at the last minute. Pulling it off the rack, she held it out in front of her. The strapless dress was sparkly silver at the top with a light pink ribbon around the waist. The light pink material below the waist fell just above her knees. Smiling she held it against her body, standing in front of the mirror. It was perfect.

Placing it down on her bed, she returned to her closet to find her sparkle silver heels. Grabbing them from the shelf, she placed them next to her dress. It was the perfect outfit for the evening. She smiled as she imagined Peter’s reaction to seeing her in the dress.

She glanced over at the clock on her bed stand. 2:00pm. She had four hours until Ned would be at her house. The two of them planned to ride together, meeting Peter and Liz at the dance. Y/N was still not happy about Peter bringing Liz to the dance and to be perfectly honest she was more than happy to stay home and have a movie night by herself. The only problem was Ned. He kept bugging her about it so she finally caved and agreed to go with the three of them.

It had been almost a week since Peter had told Y/N that he was bringing Liz to homecoming. Since then she had hardly talked to him. She did her best to avoid seeing them because now Liz was with him almost all the time at school. At lunch, Y/N made up excuses about having to finish a project and ate lunch in the library. In the hallways, she did her best to go the long way to her classes because it meant she wouldn’t have to see them together. Sure, Peter and Liz were still only friends but it hurt Y/N to see them hanging out.

“Ow!” Y/N groaned, clutching her stomach from the sudden pain.

She slowed her breathing, taking in deep breaths as her stomach continued to hurt. Sitting down on her bed, she felt herself become nausea and continued to take deep breaths hoping the feeling would pass. When another sharp pain emitted from her stomach, she laid down, and closed her eyes, willing the pain to go away.

~~

“Y/N! Y/N! Wake up!”

Y/N opened her eyes to see Ned standing above her. She groaned as she rolled over onto her side, clutching her stomach.

“What time is it?” she asked.

“6:00! We were supposed to leave now,” Ned said. “Do you feel ok? You look pale.”

Y/N shook her head. “I feel awful.”

“But you have to feel better! You need to come to homecoming. Peter needs to realize that he needs to be with you and not her!”

“I-I don’t think I’m gonna go,” Y/N said, scrunching up her face in pain.

Ned’s face dropped but he nodded his head, understanding. “You’ll come if you feel better right?”

Y/N nodded. “Of course.”

He squeezed her hand before leaving the room. Y/N grabbed her phone from her nightstand to see three texts from Peter.

When are you and Ned getting to the dance?

Liz and I are on the way.

We’re here. Where are you?

The last message was from ten minutes ago but Y/N placed her phone next to her, ignoring the messages. He would find out soon enough that she wasn’t going to be there. Ned would probably be at the school any minute to tell him.

Her stomach felt a bit better, but she was still nausea. Turning on her tv, she put on Netflix resuming the last episode of the show she was currently watching. Luckily, it wasn’t anything that took a lot of brainpower and she laughed as the characters continued their crazy antics.

The next hour, Y/N drifted in and out of sleep, only getting up once to use the bathroom. Just as she was laying back down, the familiar sound of her window opening caught her ear. She glanced over to see Peter quietly climbing in, still in his tux from the dance, and land gracefully on the floor. He closed the window behind him before turning around to face her. She blushed, finding him quite attractive in his tux.

“H-hey,” he said, quietly.

“Peter! Hey! What are you doing here?” she asked, forgetting that she was trying to avoid him at the moment.

“Ned said you weren’t feeling good, so I thought I would make sure you were ok.”

“I’m fine. You didn’t have to come and leave Liz all by herself,” she said, laying down.

“But I wanted to,” Peter replied, confusion in his voice.

“Well now you see I’m fine you can go back.”

“Well I…I was thinking maybe I could stay over and we could watch a movie or something.”

“You would rather stay with me than be with Liz at the dance?”

Peter nodded, running his fingers through his brown hair. “Yea. I like her and all but I would rather hang out with you any day.”

Y/N laughed. “Even when I’m sick?”

“Even when you’re sick.”

Peter walked over to her dresser and opened the top drawer. “Please tell me my sweatpants are still in here? This tux is uncomfortable.”

“You have a pair of shorts in there….”

Peter turned around. “Y/N, where are my sweatpants?” His eyes widened as he took in her appearance. “Are wearing them and one of my t shirts?”

“They’re comfortable!” she said, holding her hands up in defense.

“I know,” Peter said, laughing. He grabbed the pair of yellow gym shorts from her drawer and one of his many t shirts that had accumulated in her drawer. “How do you have so many of my shirts?”

“I always forget to give them back to you,” she said, referring to when she would stay at his place and want to wear a comfortable shirt instead of one of her’s.

Peter smiled, walking into her bathroom and closing the door behind him. When he reemerged his tux was no where to be seen. He had on his yellow gym shorts with a blue Midway t shirt. Y/N blushed as she looked at him, finding him more attractive than when he was in his tux.

He layed down next to her, both of them rolling onto their sides to face each other.

“So how was the dance?” she asked.

“It was…ok,” he said. “It would have been better if you were there.”

Y/N smiled. “Was Ned having fun?”

“Yea. He was actually dancing with Michelle when I left.”

Y/N laughed as Peter’s hand moved to hers and intertwined with her fingers with his. They had held hands before but this time there was something different about it. Y/N’s heart beat faster and she was sure Peter could hear it with his superhuman senses however he was nice enough not to say anything.

As the two of them laid on Y/N’s bed watching a movie, they found themselves becoming tangled up. Y/N’s head was resting against Peter’s chest, while his hand was placed on her stomach. Throughout the movie, Y/N continued to doze off but each time she woke up, Peter was still there, his eyes glued to the television screen.

The next time she woke up, the sun was streaming through her windows. Her head was still on Peter’s chest and she could feel the rise and fall of his chest as he slept. Her stomach was feeling slightly better as she stood up to use the bathroom.

When she returned, Peter had woken up, his brown hair messy, as he looked over at her.

“Good Morning,” she said, leaning against the frame of the bathroom door.

“Morning.”

He stood up and walked over to her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into a hug.

“I had fun last night. Thanks for letting me stay.”

“I’m glad you came.”

They took a step back from each other and Y/N watched as Peter walked over to the window, opening it quietly.

“Going to save the world?” she asked.

Peter nodded. “I’ll come by later and we can hang out again.”

“Sounds like a plan, Spiderman.”

~~

Y/N sat at her desk, finishing her math homework that was due tomorrow. She was having a hard time focusing as her mind kept replaying everything that had happened last night with Peter.

“Y/N,” Peter said from behind her.

She turned around to see Peter closing the window. He was still dressed in his red and blue Spiderman suit and he pulled the mask off, tossing it to the floor.

“Save a lot of people today?” she asked, giving him a hug.

“Stopped a bike thief, gave an old lady directions. I’d say it was good day,” he said, smiling.

She laughed pulling away from him. As she took a step away his gloved fingers locked with hers. Before she could do anything his lips were pressed against hers. She smiled as he moved his head away, his brown eyes locked on hers.

“I-I forgot to do that earlier,” he said, an embarrassed smile on his face.

Standing on her tip toes, she pressed her lips against his. “It’s ok,” she replied, knowing that he had finally realized how he felt about her.


Authors Note: You guys are awesome! Thank you so much for the positive feedback. ❤️ Lexi

@slythergirlimagines @eabha-no @thedumbestravenclaw

I squealed when I saw this photo of Jane “I’m Not Gay Though” Fonda wearing the Official Uniform of Sapphics™, so I’d thought you’d all like to see it. (🌹)