Funny stories from my childhood...

My mum told me cats could read and I wrote “litter tray” on my cats little box thinking it would understand.
My dad told me he had a spider in his hands and me and my sister ran down the stairs at the same time and fell into the window on the landing.
My sister, the artistic one, got onto the top bunk in my bedroom and drew like a MASSIVE COW, scraped it into the wall paper so that my mum couldn’t even paint over it as you could stil see it. 
My sister told me to smell some shampoo then squirted it up my nose; I was in so much pain.
My sister shouted “Fifty Shades of Pain!” Then punched my other sister in the arm.

can we, as a society, start to realize that having a phone does NOT mean you HAVE TO BE accsessible to anyone and everyone at ALL times??

My mom threw a fit at me for not answering my phone while i was at my friends place. Kinda hypocritical too, given how much she complains that “youth these days spend to much time on their phones”

My boss was very CLEARLY not satisfied that i only got back to his text hours after he sent it. My friend didnt speak to me for weeks once bc she thought we were having a FIGHT??? bc i didnt reply to her message on facebook? till the day after she sent it??

i HAVE a phone, that doesnt mean i HAVE TO BE availiable whenever ANYONE decides they want me to be???

what the fuck

can people stop assuming they are entiteled to my attention 24/7??

Honestly I am e n d l e s s l y tired of fuckboys complaining about how all this cracking down on sexual harassment and all these female directors and reboots and superheroes are “ruining movies and Hollywood for men.”

Want to know what has been “ruined” for women?! 

Everything.

Night time, bars, college campuses, getting dressed up, employment, public transportation, porn, going literally anywhere alone, the entire state of Michigan. 

Seriously… EVE. RY. THING.  

my love @parkrstark requested shameless cuddles to wrap up this post and so here is me word vomiting yet again. If you can’t tell, Tony playing with Peter’s hair is one of her #1 kinks. And oh boy did I aim to please.

Once again, I did very minimal editing on this. Welcome to hell.


Peter had always been clingy.

It had escalated as he and Tony got closer. At first, it presented as unnecessary shoulder brushes and the tendency to fall into his side as the pair walked pretty much anywhere. Now, Tony had grown used to the kid hanging all over him at pretty much every available opportunity.

He pretended to hate it, but it satisfied some deep, instinctual need for pure human proximity that he didn’t get anywhere else.

Sure, he got intimacy from Pepper. But there was something different about closeness with a human being that had zero romantic or sexual conditions. The simplicity of seeking human contact for no other reason than to seek human contact.

Of course, these are the things he would never admit out loud.

Hell, it was hard enough to admit them to himself.

The clinginess always escalated whenever the kid was stressed or sad. It was just a fact. Whenever he knew that Peter was having a rough time, he sort of accepted the concept that he’d have his very own human octopus attached to his hip until his skies got sunnier.

And, obviously, being slapped by someone in a room full of strangers was going to do a number on pretty much anyone’s mood. So after Tony cocooned Peter back up in the penthouse with a movie and a cup of hot chocolate, he was completely unsurprised that it took Peter all of two minutes to crawl on top of him.

Hell, he’d even sat twisted in a way that invited the gesture.

(And, yeah, he was still pretty shaken up over the whole thing. So, it wasn’t too unwelcome to have a constant, teenager-sized reminder that everything turned out okay.)

He threaded his fingers through Peter’s curls, finding the exact rhythm and path that the kid liked on muscle memory alone. Every once in a while, he’d hit a snag and work at the spot gently until it came undone. He let himself get lost in the pattern. Card, snag, untangle. Card, snag, untangle. Card, snag, untangle.

He had no idea why, but playing with Peter’s hair never failed to bring the kid down from any sort of bad mood. The action seemed to work like some kind of unconscious trigger. No matter how keyed up he was, a minute or two of Tony messing absentmindedly with his curls would always morph the kid from a tightrope of tension to a settled sea.

It was how Tony greeted him, with a brief but affectionate ruffle at the crown of his head. It was how Tony reassured him, brushing his fingertips against the hair that grew at the nape of his neck. It was how Tony got him to fall back asleep after a nightmare, brushing steady circles through his curls until the panic faded into a distant memory.

He wondered, every once in a while, if the kid knew just how receptive he was to the action. He doubted it.

Sure enough, it only took a few minutes of Tony’s gentle rhythm for Peter to melt against his chest. The movie droned on uselessly in the background. Neither of them were paying it much mind, but it did give the room a nice blanket of white noise.

“Hey,” Tony whispered once the kid seemed totally settled, “I’m not mad at you, y’know.”

“I know.”

“Good.” He floundered. Something he’d learned rather quickly with Peter was that the want, the need, to comfort didn’t necessarily mean you actually had the skills to do so. He had the parental instincts down, but he was still working on the parental guidance bit. “I just, uh, wanted to touch base with you there.”

Peter laughed, low and lazy. “Consider the base touched.”

“I hope you aren’t making an innuendo.”

“I wasn’t.” Tony smoothed a hand down the back of Peter’s neck, and the kid’s fingers uncurled from his mentor’s shirt as even more tension leaked out of his shoulders. “Are you?”

“Absolutely not. I’m a responsible adult.”

“Sure.”

“That sounded like sarcasm.”

“Don’t know what that even is, Mister Stark.” Peter settled his cheek more firmly against Tony’s chest. “Never used it before in m’ life.”

He rolled his eyes, keeping his voice quiet so as not to startle the half-conscious teenager sprawled on top of him. “F.R.I.D.A.Y.? Put the lights on Night Mode, please.”

The room going dark was the only response from the AI, and Tony was suddenly grateful that he’d made her advanced enough to assess situations.

“Goodnight, Peter.”

The kid just pushed a lazy hand against his mentor’s chest in acknowledgement, murmuring something unintelligible under his breath.

It didn’t matter. Tony got the message loud and clear.

It was about an hour later that Pepper strolled through the door, stopping suddenly, mid-step, as she realized exactly what she’d walked in on.

Tony gave her a little wave with the hand that wasn’t occupied with spiking Peter’s curls up off his forehead. She laughed, returning the gesture and slowly stepping out of the room. 

When she spoke, she kept her voice quiet enough that he could barely pick it up. “He okay?”

“Yeah.” He assumed Happy had told her about the disaster of a meeting. “You know… just a bad day.”

She nodded, turning to leave and then pivoting back for a final exchange. “You know, Tony, parenthood’s a good look on you. Not that I’m surprised.”

Tony had to forcefully remind himself not to jolt. “You’re not surprised?”

She just smiled. “Not at all.” Her gaze lingered on Peter’s face, eyes sparkling. “I always knew.”

This Needs to STOP.

more and more artists are deciding to stop drawing for the mm fandom because of art theft. if you see any of it happening report it immediately, even if they post it with 鈥渃redit to artist鈥 because its rude, disrespectful, wrong and its a smack in the face to the artist who drew it. especially those who don鈥檛 want their art reposted, ASK PERMISSION AND GIVE CREDIT TO THE RESPECTFUL OWNER IF THEY SAY YOU CAN REPOST IT.

Originally posted by samesaysjames