i do not say blah blah blah

anonymous asked:

idk if I'm the only one but it makes me extremely uncomfortable when the fans talk sexually about guys all the time. like yes, I sometimes call Jimin daddy (but like a joke, not in a sexual way) but some of them are very extreme. They're like "oh I want Jungkook to f*ck ny wet p*ssy" blah blah blah and just... I can't. Esp when they say that kind of things while talking about a pic of JK being underage

!!!! yes, i’m the exact same way. i’ve talked about this before. this is another reason i don’t actively read smut. i personally feel weird reading/writing something about a real person that’s sexual in nature. i’m not saying it’s wrong for people to do it (unless people are directly telling the boys things. like, if you’re tweeting bts “fuck me in the pussy” you’re sick and need to stop). but it just makes me uncomfortable. i don’t like to sexualize idols, especially if they are under age (i see some wanna*les who sexualize guan*in all the time. idc if you’re 10, you shouldn’t be sexualizing a minor if you’re a minor as well). it just makes me uncomfortable, personally.

Great lines from Pokemon main series games:

  • “It’s a switch. Press it?” [Yes] “Who wouldn’t?”
  • “You daft codger, your mask’s absurd!”
  • “This is bad! Badbadbadbadbadbadbad! Bad for Team Plasma! Or Plasbad for short!”
  • “Judge an Egg?! That’s a tall order even for me!” 
  • “The train hasn’t come in… I know! I’ll carry the passengers on my back! That won’t work.” 
  • “The way it works is blah blah… radioactive energy blah blah… blah blah blah infrared technology… blah blah blah…” 
  • [Name] paid an outrageous ¥500 and bought the Magikarp… 
  • “I am at this hotel now.”
  • “I’m the Team Skull boss, and I’ve never been scared of nothing or nobody. Heck, I live my life making people scared of ME! So listen to what big bad Guzma has to say… Y'all are stupid!”
  • “I CAN’T STOP SHOUTING! I THINK I’LL FREEZE IF I DO!”
  • “Today’s smell check of our beds is done! They’re fine. They smell good.”
  • “You dim-witted…dense…dumb…daft…dippy…dorky…doltish DOOFUS!!!“
  • DDDDDDDDDDOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMM!
  • “Whoops, dropped my balls.”
  • “Verily has it been our most treasured possession, since I happened to pick it up in a shop a week ago. Or two weeks, mayhap!” 
  • “I need to find a way to get more into the character of a Pokémon… maybe I should get the Day Care to raise me?” 
  • “My Hiker friend was so pleased by your right answer that he simply had to battle you! Come, my fine Hiker!”
  • “This pretty Pokemon looks just like me when I was younger. Right when I said that, my husband spewed the coffee he was drinking. Did I say something funny?” 
  • “You compare ME, Tabitha, the next Chief Admin of Team Magma, to a Makuhita?! You’d better at least make it a Hariyama!”
  • “Truly marvelous! And also a bridge!”
  • “I’m not stuck! It’s just that a pleasantly cool breeze drifts through here.”
  • “Lighthouse Point: The point that has a lighthouse.” 

anonymous asked:

i live for sad shit, so imagine david living in a not so nice household and doing the elder mckinley Turn It Off(tm) and camp is just a nice place for him to get away from everything

all i read was “blah blah draw david wearing the outfit from ‘turn it off’ blah blah” 

let’s add theater son in there

what did you say again

do u know what…i was that person who said stop saying dan is this or isn’t this don’t assume blah blah blah, but like….the dude is making it plainly obvious he doesn’t care anymore. he doesn’t label, he just is what he is. he talks about cute guys and cute girls and he’s happy with who he is and he might not need a word for it or one day he might, we don’t know, but what we do know is he isn’t afraid to be open with his feelings towards any gender and that is better than anything.

so y'know what i say now?? dan howell is fuckin accepting of himself and that’s beautiful because once upon a time that was not a thing.

Using The Word "Sinning" Isn't Wrong

I feel like I need to clear something up. I see all these posts like “stop using sinning and saying u need Jesus when talking about gay ships. It’s homophobic” blah blah blah
I know not every shipper sees it the way I do, but I feel many others might, so let me try to explain right quick. We don’t use the word “sinning” to describe these otps because they’re GAY, we use it because the situation that we have put that particular otp in is incredibly sexual and sometimes disgusting. It has 0 to do with the sexuality or gender of the ship. Good lord, I once read a fic of my gay otp where one of them put a banana in the others ass while having sex (years ago, I was reading a lot of weird shit). Calling something sinning or saying “I need Jesus” when referring to a ship has fuck all about them being gay. It’s the incredibly graphic sexual situation we put them in that is the “sinning” part. If I read the stories I do now with straight ships, I’d still comedically call it sinning because of how vivid and graphic the sex is in these fics. If I were to watch a straight couple where one of them paddled the other one on the ass then proceeded to tie them to a bed post and fuck the day lights out of them while they were gagged, I would still end that with “Holy shit, I need Jesus.” Why the fuck do you think pictures or fics about two dudes cuddling is not tagged sinning??
We ship these ships because we love and believe in them. What, do you think we ship them, but then secretly we’re like “yeah these two are a beautiful couple, BUT THEY’RE SUCH SIN OMG THIS IS GROSS AND DISGUSTING I CANT BELIVE THIS.” I can guarantee, that is not the case. The “sinning” term is just our way of trying to convey that what we are reading is intensely graphic, so please stop making it seem like this term has anything to do with sexuality when IT DOESN’T. AT ALL.

So I Am In The Toilets At The Market I Work At Washing My Hands Minding My Own Business And I Notice This Young Girl At The Taps Looking Me Up And Down Scowling Note I Am Wearing Two Hats And Have A 1 Corinthians 13 Tee On So I Am Like

“Is There A Problem”

And She Just Says

“Are You Sufjan Stevens The Husband Of Aubrey Drake Graham”

And I Am Like

“Gee! What Gave It Away!” Because I Have Zero Chill When It Comes To Smart Arse Teens And She Starts Going Off Her Nut At Me Screaming Literally Screaming All The Usual

Sufjan Is Obnoxiously Muscular Too Good Looking A Soft Boy Aubrey Belongs With Robyn Rihanna Fenty Blah Blah Blah 

Now She Is So Loud Her Mother Comes Running In From Outside To See What Is Going On

I Just Turned Around And Said

“I Do Not Know Who You Think You Are But How Dare You Talk To Me Or Any One Like That!”

Her Mother Just Hit The Roof At Her Telling Her Off In Front Of About Ten Other Market Workers For Her Yelling Swearing Having The Nerve To Yell At An Adult She Does Not Know Like That

And Then Her Mother Finished With The Classic Line

“What Did You Think Was Going To Happen With Sufjan And Aubrey? Of Course That Is What Is Going On!”

So She Not Only Embarrassed Her Self She Got In Major Trouble And Found Out Her Mother Ships Sufjaubrey

It Was A Great Start To The Day

Imagine Seth meeting his imprint.

SETH’S POV

You could have done a really loud plus a really whiney sound if you were in your wolf form right now and from the little tremor that went through you it was a pretty strong indication you were itching to just do that. “Why am I always stuck with babysitting duties?” You recalled the previous instances where you had the same job. “Bella first and then Leah and now this random chick I barely even know”

“Seth, Leah was babysitting your ass and not the other way around” 

“That’s what she likes to think but we both know I’m the more mature and experienced one” 

Jacob groaned, you could practically hear his prayers asking for patience. 

“Besides, there are no evil vampires here anymore. Why would you need anyone to keep an eye on her?” 

“Emily has strictly warned me she is like Bella, a magnet for trouble but triple her range” He gave you a second to digest that information. You both shivered at the same time realising how potentially dangerous that could get. “Sam thinks you are the best one for this job. You are a powerful protector and have the best temperamental to deal with anything without going furry-” Blah blah blah, Jacob droned on enlisting all his qualities.

You had to roll your eyes at that. Jacob did this thing, funnily he thinks you are dense not to get it but you do, every time. He sprouts this instead of putting his I’m-your-alpha-do-as-I-say voice. And sadly you have to shut up every time and do the task because he is fucking right. You are the best. 

“Fine! I will do it. When is she coming?” Jacob’s face was blank but you could practically touch the smugness wafting off him.

“She will be here by lunch time, just hang out with her till the evening and bring her to the bonfire. Simple” Huh, it did sound simple, maybe it’s not going to be that bad. 


READER? Y/N? SETH’S IMPRINT? (I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO CALL IT) POV

The cold bite of the wind felt damn good on your heated face as you sped down the road to the Clearwater’s residence on Jacob’s stolen borrowed bike. Don’t think about the fact that you almost ruined Emily’s wedding dress or that you almost burned down her kitchen trying to help her out. Just feel the wind. You still have a best friend, she only needed a few hours break from you. It was perfectly reasonable. Nobody could handle you for a long time, Emily sure tries her best but you know the truth. 

You slowed down a little spotting the curve that would lead you to the Clearwater house but you misjudged the slickness of the road in relation to the speed you were going. The bike wobbled as you tried to maintain the balance, in the next second it had collapsed, skidded and crashed into a tree taking you along for this fine experience. 

You opened your eyes after all the momentum had stopped, your heart was still beating like crazy. Don’t want to die from a heart attack now, slow down heart. You take an inventory of the things that were hurt. Head? Safe because of the helmet. Arms? Alright. Legs? Also alright. Ankles? OW! Okay the left one is hurting like a motherfuc-

“What the fuck?” You can’t be faulted for your next action, seriously the guy came out of nowhere not even a slight noise to prepare you and you were high on adrenaline. Your hand shot out to the area where you heard the voice coming from and it was just your luck when your fist connected with his precious goods.

Wheeze.

Another wheeze.

“Why..”

“What have I done..”

“…to deserve this”

Poor guy. He couldn’t even speak properly. Upon actually looking his way, you realised it wasn’t a random mugger or druggie like you ran across back in the city but Seth Clearwater. A very grown up Seth from the last time you remember seeing him. Your eyes met his pain-filled ones and his reaction was frankly weird. Was that a smile? Does he get happy from being dick punched? 

“I am so sorry Seth. I just and you just and my hand just..” You were blabbering but hell if this didn’t top your list of embarrassing mistakes. You shook your head shamefully and felt the helmet drooping down obscuring your vision. “I didn’t hear you I swear it was just a reflex action” You removed the helmet having no doubt your hair was a glorious mess. Next you tried to shift a little testing if you could try standing up. A swift intake of breath from the pain had you flinching. 

“Y/N stop apologising I get it, don’t move!” Seth’s voice was panicky, his eyes roaming over your body seeing where all you were hurt. 

“It’s just my left ankle, Seth. Maybe you can just lift this bike and I can crawl..” Strong pair of hands were around your torso in a quick motion pushing the bike away and hugging you to a very warm chest before lifting you up. He was careful but damn if that ankle wasn’t a bitch. He was the one flinching this time like he could feel your pain.

“I can’t believe Jacob let you ride that death trap! This could have ended up so much worse” He held you closer as if he couldn’t bear to think about it. A brush of his lips against your forehead had you looking up at him but he was looking straight ahead. Did you imagine that? “He kinda like completely has no idea that I took his bike” You squeaked out remembering how you sneakily took his bike when he was at Emily’s place. In the chaos surrounding the wedding you were able to get away with that. 

“Well that explains it. He is going to be pissed about it though” Seth was so careful not to jostle you much as he was moving towards the house, every time he would look at you it was with an intensity like nothing you have experienced before. 

“That death trap is in a better condition than me so he can’t really be mad” You look back at the bike lying near the tree with only few noticeable scratches. As if the Gods in heaven were waiting for this moment, a branch overhead the death trap snapped and fell on the bike breaking the front light and the side mirror. “Okay, we need to do this carefully now. New IDs and lots of cash. Fake our deaths and get outta this town.” 

Seth was laughing now clearly our impending deaths by Jacob wasn’t as troubling to him as it was to you. 

“This is definitely not bad at all. I love babysitting” What was he even talking about? Oh my. The dick punch has made him ludicrous. Now even Leah is going to kill you. This just keeps getting better. (Part 2)

Originally posted by imlostinsantacarla

time for my messy unwanted unpopular opinion (again..!)

  • im sorry to say this but the reason half of you are so angry and disappointed all the time is that you take things so…personally. you think you are louis and what you believe his team is doing to him is actually happening to you? like, yall act like louis’ team is purposefully doing “bad” things just to spite YOU personally. i read shit like “i wanna stop supporting/promoting because whats the point his team doesnt want it blah blah blah”. all im gonna say is no need to be so dramatic no one is forcing you to stream in the first place but also stop being obsessed with his team…? you claim to love louis but then wanna ‘punish him’ because of his team lmao…makes no sense.
  • ppl complaining the promo is bad have literally not been there for niall’s promo but im not surprised because yall only pretend to like him anyway but if you paid attention you would realize louis had better promo than him and the reason why niall is so high now is because most songs take time to build up in the charts. SH debuted at #52 in the US. now its #19.
  • you have literally no consideration for what louis wants. you automatically assume that if what is happening is not what YOU want, then louis also doesn’t want it. you think he wastes his time in small radio stations? well maybe louis just likes meeting his fans from all over the country instead of always staying in london and seeing the same goddamn stalkers. newsflash: you are not louis. you dont get to decide whats good for him and what isnt, you also can’t get in his head to figure out what he wants.
  • you constantly project your stereotypes and bias on louis to shit on his own style. getting mad at his haircut - do you even hear yourself? being mad that what he wears looks “cheap” or “chavy” when all of his clothes are totally unaffordable (at least for me) and he fucking likes it. hes also being paid for promoting these designers so i really dont think hes crying at home. 
  • some of you dont wanna admit it but you hate it because you dont think he looks “stereotypically gay” the way harry does with his bright clothes. you think his clothes makes him look too “straight” and “masculine” and for you its incompatible with your belief that hes gay because gay people cant be masculine apparently. there’s also the fact that not liking a style personally (it’s ok we all have tastes) doesn’t make it objectively bad. you not liking it doesnt mean no one can like it.
  • another portion of you are just deadass angry because he’s (still) closeted and it appears some of you have inherent disgust for that and im not gonna elaborate on how that’s fucked up and none of your business.
  • i hate when he mentions his gf and his kid as much as everyone else but to act like its bad promo is just wrong. everyone else loves it and it makes him relatable even if its lies 80% of the time. just look at liam. so stop projecting, again, your own feelings into the state of his promo. 
  • again its just the FIRST WEEK of promo its not a disaster if he hasnt been on any TV appearance or done any performance. on the contrary, when all appearances are in the same week, the song DROPS after that because there is no more promo. that’s what all of 1d’s songs ever were: best charts the first week (first 2 days, really) then significant drop.

tl;dr relax a bit, and remind yourself at the end of the day this isnt your life its not happening to YOU and the world isnt ending. bye.

Make jokes about my brother having cancer? I'm going to fucking take everything back that I ever gave you.

Hey guys, just ranting on mobile because I’m extremely pissed off right now.

This just happened yesterday. Recently, my brother passed away due to leukemia. We just had his funeral and it was a great to officially say good bye to him. We both bonded over a lot of things, video games, music, etc. I’m very protective of him, so when someone fucks with him, they’ll get it.

So after the funeral, I heard my best cousin make a cancer joke about my brother.  I was enraged, but stood off to see if he said anything else. Of course, that dick decides to play the Misha cancer song. That’s the part where I felt my blood boil. Worse timing, especially when all my relatives were there, so I decided to set up a plan.

He’s one of my favorite cousins (not anymore lmao), and I lent him a bunch of stuff such as a gamecube, couple Xbox accessories, and a bunch more during the times when we used to hang out. We were going back to his house for a family dinner later, so I decided to get everything back when we were about to leave.

So we’re about to leave, relatives say goodbye to each other, blah blah blah. During this time, i storm upstairs with a bunch of grocery bags and start packing everything up. 6 full bags of all my gaming accessories that I’ve missed so much. As I’m walking down stairs with the bags, he goes up to me and says “what fuck are you doing with my shit?” I proceed to say “Your shit? You mean my shit, you fucker. Don’t make cancer jokes about my brother and think you’ll get away with it.” I stick up the middle finger and get in my car, happy as fuck. As I sat in my driver’s seat, I heard him screaming to his parents about me taking “his” stuff. Screw his parents, I didn’t even care anymore.

Sweet, sweet revenge for my brother/friend that I’ll always miss.

Tooth Be Told | Hoseok

“Dude, you’re being like… super uncool right now.” Hoseok says, a glare marring his handsome face.

“My heart is breaking at the prospect of not being deemed cool by you, Jung Hoseok.” You roll your eyes at him and he yanks the phone from your hands so he can look at you properly.

“Did I or did I not cover your rent this month when you were short?” He seethes and you jump to your feet, jabbing a finger at his chest.

“I didn’t get paid until 2 o’clock and rent was due at 12 you ass hat I literally gave it right back to you!” You hiss.

“Yes, okay, good but it’s the principle of the matter. You needed me for something and I came through.” He retorts.

“Yeah because it’s my month to pay rent and we’d both be on our asses if I hadn’t.” You snort.

“Dude its a free dental exam what is there to protest? You don’t even have dental insurance so you can’t get routine cleanings, anyway, your teeth probably look like—“

“I refuse to let you anywhere near my mouth. You’re not a dentist and it’s very clean inside there thank you very much!” You say indignantly and it’s Hoseok’s turn to roll his eyes at you.

“I’m almost a dentist, one that’s offering to give you a free exam while my degree is pending.” He sniffs.

“What a nice way to phrase it—your degree is pending. You mean you’re not certified yet and if you think for one second that just because we’re friends or roommates or whatever that I’m going to—“

“If you don’t I’ll tell Jungkook it was you who accidentally washed your red shirt with his laundry.” Hoseok threatens and you gasp, a hand clutched to your chest.

“You wouldn’t.” You hiss.

“Try me.” He smirks.


.


“You know,” Hoseok begins, and you’re propped up on his bed, it’s all very unprofessional and half assed. His iPhone is macguivered onto a selfie stick he’s duct taped to the wall so he could have a light while he works and he’s wearing yellow dish washing gloves that you hope are new as he prods and pokes at your mouth, “you actually have really really clean teeth like there’s slight decalcification and some areas that are high risk for cavities but it’s nothing you couldn’t fix with some PreviDent—it’s like eight bucks at the store down the street. Pretty damn good for someone who hasn’t had dental insurance for like four years now.”

Hoseok pauses when he feels your tongue move against his gloved fingers and he frowns, ignoring the slight tingling sensation in crotch—very slight because any shot of arousal is quickly tamped down with the fact that your mouth was stretched open in an unflattering way and he had ample view of your double chin from this angle. He tugs his hands out with a, “sorry what were you saying?”

You inhale, making a gross slurping noise as you attempted to suck residual drool back in, because Hoseok was messy and your jaw fucking hurt.

“For the record you’re a terrible fucking dentist, just drop out now. Jesus,” you say, swiping at your face, and making Hoseok glare, “and also why dentist do that?”

“Do what?” Hoseok asks dryly.

“Ask you questions when their in the middle of fisting your goddamn mouth!” You snap, narrowing your eyes at him, and rubbing your face, “Are you trying to make my jaw come unhinged like y—oof!”

Hoseok shoves you back down with a glare, roughly opening your mouth as he shoves the mirror back in, letting it clank as he goes, “Like I was saying, slight decalcification but back here—“

Your eyes widen when the metal instrument treks back, far from any teeth and Hoseok’s eyebrows raise as he sends you an almost pleasantly surprised look.

“The most impressive part about this entire thing,” he murmurs and he’s long since shed the mirror as he ventured in your mouth, making you wonder just what exactly he was doing in there, “is that you have like literally no gag reflex like—look.”

The noise you make is somewhere between a squeal and a gasp as he presses his finger back, and you grip his wrist sending him a wild look. “Hoshrkdk fuduckek eurdj!”

“What?” He frowns and you yank his hand from your mouth.

“Hoseok, you fucking perv!” You spit, swiping the leftover drool from your mouth and he laughs, loudly, letting the gloves snap as he tugs them from his hands.

“I’m just saying I had my entire finger down your throat and wow just… wow. how is it that you can’t keep a boyfriend?” He snickers and you kick him til he’s tumbling off the bed.

“I hate you!” You sneer, sitting cross legged so you can chuck a pillow at him. “And for the record I would never in my entire life sleep with you, so you can wonder all you want.”

“Why? Because I could give you something to gag around?” He retorts and the words are off his tongue before his brain has time to catch up. Still, he plays it off as a joke, sending you a grin and hoping you don’t notice the way it falters.

He nearly deflates when throw another pillow.

“Perv!”

Hoseok only laughs, perching himself on his elbows so he can see you better from the floor. It rubs you the wrong (or maybe right) way that he looks so good even like that—hair messy and pushed off his forehead and eyes red rimmed from lack of sleep. He’s wearing those stupid fake glasses he insists make him look smarter—more “denitisty”

“Well for the record, it wasn’t offered, you missed your window of opportunity in the pre roommate stage when we met at that party,” he nods.

“God, you still remember that?” You grumble, but your cheeks are heated and Hoseok sees.

He grins.

“It’s not everyday I almost drill my roommate through a goddamn wall,” he snickers, using one hand to push his hair back in thought, “I don’t think I’ve ever had a worst case of blue balls before or since.”

“Do you think if Jungkook,“ you bite your lip and shake your head, but he only raises his eyebrows for you to continue, “it’s dumb.”

“Do I think if Jungkook hadn’t interrupted that night,” he says, reading your mind, or really voicing his own thoughts, “do I think it would’ve been a mistake—is that what you were gonna ask?”

You nod.

“Honestly, I don’t know,” he murmurs in contemplation, “I mean… I wouldn’t have someone to split half of rent with so there’s that. We probably wouldn’t be friends either so that would’ve sucked.”

“Why do you say that?” You frown.

“Because you were a naive little freshman who I would’ve plowed and then never called back,” he says honestly and you wince at his honest words but you asked, “Not that you’re not hot or almost stupidly funny and cute. Because you’re all of that and I bet you’d even be a good lay, I’m into that real cute inexperienced type and from living with you I could tell you’re prime girlfriend material.”

“I don’t know where you’re going with this but I would like to know how you made all of that sound like an insult.” You say dryly, opting for a light tone despite the pang in your chest.

“Things happen for a reason and I’m a strong believer in—“

“Not this bullshit again,” you roll your eyes before dropping your voice an octave to mimic him, “Im a strong believer in the Universe and the stars and anything that’s not meant for you won’t find it’s way to you blah blah blah. Give it a rest alright?”

Hoseok is quiet for a beat before meeting your gaze, “Are you sad things didn’t work out between us? Or like just sad about how they are now?”

“And how is that?” You implore, wondering where the sudden turn of conversation came from.

“Platonic.” He says honestly.

“I don’t know.” You murmur, and as though there was a force pulling you towards him, you meet his gaze head on, unable to look away.

A silence fills the room before Hoseok asks a question—the question.

“Do you still want to have sex with me?” He asks and your gaze flutters back down to his comforter.

“I don’t know.” You say quietly.

anonymous asked:

Hello... wonder if there is any chance that you made another part of "did you steal this" story... pretty please?? That's so amazing... thank you so much for writing it... ^^ ^^ (you are amazing, you know that, don't you?)

Here you go, sweet Nonny. <3

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3: 


“So you’re going to wear the vest,” Plagg drawled, watching Adrien button it up. “Just like that, ‘Hi, Marinette, I’m Chat Noir’, huh?”

Adrien paused, looking at his reflection in the mirror. “Are you saying I shouldn’t?”

“Do what you want, Kid.”

He frowned. “This seems a little unlike you. You usually don’t want anyone to know my secret.”

“What can I say? I think Bakery Girl is cute and you can trust her. Also those cheese danishes she gives you are amazing.”

“I think I can trust her too.” He turned to slump against the counter. “Ladybug might get mad at me though. I still don’t know if I’m making the right decision, but it’ll be such a relief to have someone know and Marinette is so awesome–”

“And cute and sweet and blah, blah, blah,” Plagg finished. “You don’t have to convince me, Kid. I’m on your side.”

He nodded. “Okay, here goes nothing.”

“I think you meant to say everything.”

Adrien blanched.

_________________________

He sought her out immediately, having put Nathalie and Gorilla on lookout duty. Her cheeks went pink as she held out a gift, not fully looking up at him yet. 

“You look beautiful, Mari,” Adrien said softly. “I knew you’d make an amazing dress, but this is beyond even what I could’ve imagined.”

He could see the moment the pieces fell into place in Marinette’s expression. She knew now. There was no going back. She looked at his face with wide eyes and then slowly down to the matching vest, inhaling sharply.

“Please don’t freak out,” he whispered, stepping closer. “I shouldn’t have done this so dramatically. I’m such an idiot sometimes.”

“I’m not freaking out,” she squeaked, eyes still too wide.

“Are you sure? Because you really look like you’re freaking out.”

She swallowed and glanced around at the mingling guests. “Chat?” she asked, almost inaudibly.

Adrien nodded, a nervous lopsided grin taking over his face. “Is that…is that okay?” When she didn’t answer, he looked around, spotting his father on the other side of the room. “Do you want to go somewhere we can talk for a minute?”

“Please.”

Adrien quickly led her out of the ballroom, dodging anyone who might be tempted to stop them, and down a quiet hallway. They settled on a bench, Adrien taking one of her hands in his. “Okay, so this wasn’t the best plan, I see that now. I probably should’ve just told you the other night, but…” he trailed off, frowning.

“I can’t decide if I’m flattered or upset,” she said, almost to herself.

“Please don’t be upset. I…I really like you, Marinette, and no one else knows this side of me and we have so much fun when I’m Chat and…and…and I guess I just thought it would be nice if you were my person who knows, but maybe that was selfish. You didn’t ask for this. I shouldn’t–”

Adrien’s words were cut off when Marinette pressed her lips to his cheek. “Sometimes you talk too much, Chaton.” His heart stuttered for a moment as she stood, offering him a hand. “I think I’d like a dance if you don’t mind, Kitty,” she said shyly. 

The wheels were turning slowly, gears cranking inside his brain. The puzzle pieces were all there but they weren’t quite fitting together somehow. “Chaton,” he echoed.

“I never really thought about it, but I guess I do have quite a few nicknames for you, don’t I? Chaton, Kitty, mon minou. It’s surprising I didn’t out myself sooner with how often we talk.” She titled her head to look at him. “Do I need to say it?”

He nodded, lips thinning. She pulled on his hand so he was standing with her. She opened her mouth and then snapped it shut, taking a deep breath. “This seemed easier in my head a second ago. Okay, I can do this.” She nodded to herself and then looked back at Adrien. “I’m Ladybug.”

“You’re Ladybug,” he parroted. 

“Is that okay? I know I should’ve probably told you when you started visiting as Chat so often, but then it had gone on so long that–”

Adrien kissed her then, one hand fumbling at her waist while they other slid to her cheek. It was a relatively short kiss, chaste and sweet and slightly awkward, but they both were out of breath when they parted. 

“Oh,” Marinette said, touching her lips.

“All I want to do right now is transform and run across Paris with you,” he said breathlessly. 

“You have a party full of people here to celebrate your birthday.”

“I don’t care.”

“Silly Kitty.”

He got a more secure hold on her waist. “I can’t believe you’ve been in front of me this whole time, my Lady.”

“Technically behind you,” she flushed as he pulled her closer. “Wow, um, this is changing really quickly, huh?”

Adrien paled, dropping his arms and stepping back. “Sorry. I…I think I got caught up and–”

“I don’t mind!” Marinette interjected quickly. “I mean, you can…we can…the kissing was….” Her shoulders slumped. “Why is banter so much easier in our masks?”

He ducked his head and glanced at her through his lashes. “So this is really okay?”

“This is perfect,” she smiled.

He beamed at her, offering his arm. “Then I think there was talk of a dance, Bugaboo.”


Prompt List

Buy Me a Coffee? <3

anonymous asked:

you should write a meta post on why you think reyna is lesbian!! i love your metas they're so good

Hello, non! Thank you, lol. I broke out the big guns for this—capital letters and all, lmao. (Though it’s not proofread because I jumped the gun and got too excited once it was done so………………don’t judge me)

First off: I want to make it abundantly clear that I am not trying to talk people out of their interpretations of Reyna. I just…think she’s a lesbian, and think there’s a lot of textual backing to support me. My word isn’t gospel and a lot of these passages are subjective, and I am well aware that there is room for disagreement. But I figured it was about time to lay out why I feel so strongly the way I do, and what subtext I keep referring to when I’m making other points, especially after being asked!

AND A DISCLAIMER: I never read BOO. So I really am not claiming to be the ultimate authority here—this is just what I see, what I like to see, and my reasons for interpreting it the way that I do.

Keep reading

You're Mine

Paring: Seth Rollins X Reader
Rating: Smut, Explicit
Length: 3k+
Includes: Smut, lots of angst, and fluff

Summary: You and Seth still aren’t an official couple after three years. You hatch a plan in anger and spite to make him realize how much he cares about you. It doesn’t go as planned. Angst and smut and a little fluff.

“Why do I even bother?!” You shouted at Seth as he rolled his eyes. You were in the living room of his new house, but this was an old fight.

“Look, I told you,” he sounded angry even though he had no right. “I don’t like titles. We’re dating. I don’t have to be your boyfriend.”

“It’s been three years! You don’t want a title. You don’t want me to move in. You just want me around. It’s not cool!” You were at your wits end with this conversation. You had talked to his friends, and they were as confused as you.

Roman was the most helpful. He told you Seth talked about you a lot. Seth would say “You’ll never guess what y/n did. It was so awesome-” and “Y/n loves those things.” Stuff like that. You did the same thing too, but less and less lately because of this situation he put you in.

The two of you weren’t getting any younger, and you wanted to settle down with him. He was the man you loved, but you were starting to think he wasn’t your future.

“I just don’t want labels. I’ve told you that for like, years,” he said, getting up from the couch, adjusting his basketball shorts and hoodie. “I’m going to hit the gym.” He grumbled as he walked past you.

“I guess I’m going home then,” you said, snatching up your things furiously. “Just tell me one thing,” you turned to him as he put his hair up and picked up his gym bag.

“What?” He asked, clearly irritated and not wanting to actually listen to you. His tone stoked your ire and you decided to change your question.

“Do you mind if I date other people?” You asked, shrugging a bit, keeping your face blank.

“Excuse me?” He asked, looking aghast. You gleaned a bit of satisfaction from his horrified face.

“Well, I’m not your girlfriend, so…? I can date other people, yeah?” You shrugged again.

He glared at you, and you could see his brain working behind his eyes. He didn’t like what you were suggesting, and he was trying to find a way to say ‘no’ without giving ground on his position.

“Sure,” he finally said after a very long pause. “I personally won’t, but sure, go crazy.” He said with a condescending tone. He was trying to guilt you out of the idea by volunteering that he wouldn’t see other people, but at this point… /Fuck him/.
***
“Hey, y/n! What’s up?” Cesaro’s voice over the phone was just as pleasant as you remembered. “Did Seth lose his phone again? He’s right here somewhere.”

“No,” you laughed. “I wanted to call you specifically,” you admitted.

“Okay,” he said, waiting.

You had planned to just ask him out, but he was too close with Seth. He would say no. You quickly thought of something he’d say yes to.

“Seth is giving me the same argument against labels again,” you sighed.

“The 'Oh, I don’t like labels. I just want to be me. Blah blah blah,’ thing. I’ve heard it.” Cesaro said, sounding as incredulous as everyone else that heard Seth give the excuse.

“Yeah, but this time, I got pretty hot and I kind of said I’d start dating other people,” you winced, realizing how that would sound to one of Seth’s closest friends.

Cesaro sighed. “I don’t blame you.”

“Yeah, so here’s what I want to do, and why I called,” you said, getting down to business. “I would like you to take me on a date. Like, pretty publicly. If that’s okay?” You said, biting the tip of your thumb.

He surprised you by laughing. “Oh boy, that’s evil y/n. Yeah, I’ll do it.”

“Really?” You asked, bouncing in your seat.

“Yeah, lets fuck this tomato,” he said, making you quirk your face in question. What kind of idiom was that? Swiss? You took it for the agreement it was.

“Okay. Bye.” You said, laughing.

“I’ll text you.” He said before hanging up.
***
You were sitting on your couch watching TV when you heard a furious knock on your door. It was late. About midnight. And you wondered who in the hell it was.

Opening the door cautiously, you peeked out. It was Seth.

You didn’t know he would be back so soon. He usually texted you when he was getting on the airplane or making the drive back home.

“What’s up?” You said, pulling the door open all the way. He rushed inside and you closed the door behind him. He didn’t say a word. He looked rattled. His hair was a mess and he smelled like the cold air outside. It was like he had stopped whatever he was doing and just rushed here.

“Seth,” you started to say, but he just held up a finger. That’s when you noticed his hand was shaking. You looked up to his eyes and saw they were black with fury.

You had seen Seth angry before, but you hadn’t ever seen him livid. You were guessing that’s what this was. You were guessing he saw the photos. The photos from your date with Cesaro.

“You said you would date other people. Not my best fucking friend,” his voice shook as he spoke. You were quiet for a long time. The TV the only sound in the room.

“I’m just-” you tried.

“No. You don’t talk til I say,” he told you. His voice was hot with rage. You felt yourself shrink in. You thought this little stunt would remind Seth how much he liked you. Needed you. Maybe loved you. But maybe it was the thing that would finally tear you two apart.

“Did you ask him, or did he ask you?” He asked, staring you down.

“I asked him,” you said quietly, beginning to shake yourself.

“And he said yes? Just like that?” He was silently waiting for your answer, but his lips were parted with heavy breath.

“Well, I- He-” you tried to figure out what to say.

“Never mind. I just want to know one thing,” he said. “Just tell me…” Seth’s voice broke just a little. “Did you fuck him?”

You shook your head. You hadn’t.

“Did you want to?” His eyes were like open windows to his soul. You could see it howling in pain, and it was about to get worse.

“Yes,” you whispered.

“Yes?!” He asked in disbelief.

“I want to sleep with a lot of guys, Seth, but I don’t.” You told him simply. “Cause there’s only one guy for me.”

He looked angry again. How did he still not understand this?

“Then why date other people?! Why put me through this?!” He shouted, looking more distressed than you’d ever seen him. Even when his knee tore in half and he vacated his title, he was more together than this.

“Because I need a commitment!” You shouted back. “I need to know that at the end of the day you’ll be there for me!”

“I’m here for you!” He argued.

“As a friend? As a fuck buddy? As what?!” You fired back, becoming quite livid yourself. If this was the last fight, if this was the last time you talked, you wanted to make yourself clear. “Come on! Tell me what I am to you!”

He stared at you. He was silent.

“Really?” You said, feeling a knife through your heart. “Nothing?”

“Y/n,” he said, reaching for you. His anger seemed to have slipped away, but that didn’t matter now. You were too flustered. Too mad. Too frustrated.

You slapped his hand away, shocking him. You shocked yourself too, but you didn’t let it show. Not now.

“Get out,” you hissed. You couldn’t look at him anymore. You couldn’t be around him. It hurt too much.

“When I saw the pictures… When I saw you with him,” he started.

“I don’t care anymore. Leave,” you said, feeling tears roll down your cheeks. You didn’t even know you were crying until then.

“Let me just-” he tried, but you couldn’t listen.

“No. I want you out,” you said, realizing he wasn’t going to leave. He had rooted himself like a tree. You had to do something drastic. You had to topple him to get him the fuck away from you. “I already wasted three years of my life with you. How much more of my time do you want to waste?”

He recoiled at that, and it broke your heart to see him in pain. But he couldn’t give you what you needed, so he wouldn’t give you anything anymore.

“I’m- I- Please,” he stuttered. He looked shattered, but you had no idea why, or what it meant. He either couldn’t or wouldn’t tell you what you meant to him.

You went to the door and opened it.

“Goodbye, Seth,” you said, looking down at the floor. You could still feel the fury coursing through your veins, but the anguish was starting to overwhelm it. You needed him gone before you could collapse to the floor.

He walked over to you, and gently put his hand over yours, closing the door for you.

“You’re mine,” he said quietly. His hand was still on yours. You stared at where your hands met. “And I’m yours.” His eyes were pained, but soft as you looked up.

You didn’t say anything. You didn’t know what to say.

“That’s all I’ve got,” he confessed.

“What does that mean?” You asked, feeling so unsure. Like the ground would drop away from your feet at any moment.

“You’re mine,” he shrugged sadly. Probably thinking that wasn’t enough, he kept talking. “You’re my best friend. You’re my favorite person. You’re the person I lean on. You’re… mine.” He said. “And I’m all that stuff for you, right?”

You sniffed and nodded.

“Then I’m yours.”

“Okay,” you said, looking at him in question. A silent 'what else?’

He reached out and pulled you to his chest. He did that thing you loved. Sometimes after a long or particularly rough road trip; he pulled you in, held you tight, rested his chin to your forehead, took a long inhale of your hair, sighed deeply, and kissed the top of your head. He loved you. Seth might not have known it, but you did. You wouldn’t say anything now. You weren’t about to tell him how he felt.

“What was Cesaro saying to you? In the picture, I mean,” he asked, holding you close.

“Which one?” You asked. He pulled back a bit to get his phone out of his pocket. Then he pulled up a picture of Cesaro whispering in your ear and you blushing with a little smile on your face. “I don’t remember.” You didn’t remember what he said. “Is- is that the one that bothered you the most?” You asked, knowing there was a photo of a goodnight kiss.

“Yeah,” he said, laying his cheek on the top of your head as his hand flexed around your side.

“Why?” You were perplexed.

“I don’t know. I guess- I like to make you smile, and- I know lots of people make you smile, but- I don’t know. We make jokes. Our jokes. I didn’t like thinking about you and Cesaro- I don’t know? Having jokes? That doesn’t make any sense,” he sighed. Seth was talking about intimacy. He didn’t want you to be intimate with other people. You smiled to yourself. What a big dummy, you thought, unable to contain a laugh.

“It does make sense. But I have bad news, Cesaro and I do have one joke.” You had remembered what Cesaro was telling you when that picture was snapped.

“What is it?” He frowned, looking at you.

“I’ll never tell,” you smiled at him evilly. He smiled back.

“Come on!” He laughed, shaking you gently, teasingly.

“I’ll tell you my secret for one kiss,” you teased, pointing to your lips. He smiled and paid the toll of one kiss. It stared as a quick peck on the mouth, but then his lips softened and he stayed a bit longer.

After your lips parted, you looked up at him and forgot what you were going to say. He was staring at you, looking at you like you were a stranger. Just blinking, trying to take all of you in.

“Seth?” You asked, putting a hand on his chest. He looked lost.

His hands came up to cup your face. His thumb traced your cheekbone as he stared at you. His beautiful, intelligent brown eyes gazing between your eyes and your lips. You moved forward just an inch and he kissed you again.

He kissed you over and over, pulling you closer. His hands gently, desperately grasping your face. Usually, he’d be pulling your body to his, making his desire clear, but this was different. He was making his desire clear just by kissing you. Fiercely, passionately clinging to your lips.

“I’m not wasting your time anymore. I’m yours,” he said, before sealing your lips again.

You put your arms around his neck. One hand diving into his hair. Saying, with your body, 'I’m here. It’s okay. I’m yours too.’ As soon as you did that, he picked you up and started toward your bedroom.

“I want you,” he said breathlessly, as he set you on your bed. You moved away a bit to start undressing, but he grabbed you back to him.

“Come here,” he huffed, pulling the hem of your shirt over your head. He kissed your shoulders, chest, tummy. He removed your bra. Then he started on your jeans. “You’re mine. You understand?” He asked, pulling your panties down with your jeans.

“Yes,” you said, putting your hands in his hair as he kissed down your hip bone to your pelvis. You knew where he was going.

His mouth found your folds wet, and you moaned in want as his tongue worked magic on you. He was so good at eating you out that sometimes the orgasms brought tears to your eyes.

He groaned as he realized just how slick you were and the husky sound made you even slicker. He brought his hands up to your center and used them to spread your pussy lips so he could give your clit direct attention. You cried out as he lapped at your pleasure center with deadly accuracy. Your hands shook against his scalp as he got you to the edge, making you gasp in desperate need to come.

“Please!” You cried as you felt your peak so close. He licked quicker, more forceful, to make sure you came and came hard. “Yes! Seth!” You practically screamed as your body shook with pleasure.

He climbed up your body, laying between your thighs. You used your fingers to wipe your wetness from his beard, running your thumb over his talented lips. He placed a kiss on the pad of your thumb just before he pressed forward.

You gasped as his cock filled you. He looked down at you with stars in his eyes.

“God, you feel so good. You always feel so good,” he said, holding you close as he started to thrust.

“You too, baby,” you moaned as your hands roamed his back. And he did, he felt so good filling every inch of you with his length.

He took his time, building up the pace, finding out what made you gasp and your pussy clench. The whole time his own breath caught and masculine moans emanated from his throat, driving you wild.

“Louder,” you told him. He looked at you for a second, but then it clicked.

He started going faster, making you throw your head back. He was hitting your g-spot with every thrust, his powerful arms were around you, and his moans hit your ears like music.

“Oh God!” You cried as he lifted your hips a bit.

“You like that?” He huffed, leaning back to look at you.

“Yeah, yeah,” you said, nodding furiously. Your fingers digging into his shoulders to pull him to you. Your lips landed on his right before he pushed you over the edge.

“That’s right. You’re mine. This is my pussy.” He said, reaching down to your clit. You had already come twice but that wasn’t enough for Seth. He wanted to remind you why you were with him.

“I’m yours! Yes!” You told him, looking in his eyes.

“Come for me again,” he demanded of you. “Come for your man.”

You screwed your eyes shut and just heard and felt everything. His cock inside you, his fingers on your clit, his breath hot on your ear, his groans, and the sound of your flesh slapping together. Seth was inside of you and all around you. It was perfect.

“Oh my God!” You gasped as you came for the third time. Tears streamed down your face from the intensity of the pleasure.

“Oh! Y/n…!” He groaned as he came inside of you and went still. You could hear his heart pounding, and you put your hand over his chest to feel it too. “I love you.” He said quietly.

“I love you too,” you said, running a hand through his hair and kissing his forehead. “I’m yours.”

“Damn right,” he chuckled, rolling over and bringing you with him.

“I think you should move in with me.” He said, running his hand over your bare back as you snuggled to his side.

“Really?” You asked, peering up at him. He was completely serious.

“Yeah, really,” he smiled at you and then kissed your forehead.

“Alright then,” you giggled. “Let’s fuck this tomato.”

“Let’s what?!” He laughed. His face quirked in mirth and his eyes shining like no tomorrow.

“Apparently, it’s something Sami says.” You confessed and pecked his cheek. “Cesaro picked it up from him. That’s my joke with Cesaro.”

“It’s lame,” Seth said, trying to frown. “It’s a good thing you have me to make better jokes with.”

You laughed. “Yes, better jokes with my man.”

“My girl,” he sighed, pulling you closer. “Mine. Mine. Mine.”

On Ke$ha’s hit 2010 song, Blah Blah Blah, she says “zip your lip like a padlock”. I never even questioned this 7 years ago but I’ve been thinking about it lately. It makes no sense. Padlocks don’t zip. 

Profile Picture Not Included

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Word Count: Around 3000

Summary: The reader has been single for a while and has had trouble with dating, even online matches. But with her sister’s need to meddle, giving up may not be as easy as it sounds.

Warnings: Language

Special shout out and thank you @misguidedconqueress for always being there and helping me out!

Obviously I intend no hate or ill wishes to him or his family. This is purely just for writing and wasting my time.

This is purely for a hobby and my enjoyment. Maybe some of you will enjoy it too. I apologize in advance for any mistakes or grammatical/spelling errors. I appreciate any feedback or suggestions!

—–

Online dating… Is that what your life had come to? It was mostly your sister that had convinced you. She had been hounding you since your last breakup; trying to set you up with her friends and coworkers, scheduling get togethers and ‘forgetting’ to mention she was bringing along a male friend or prowling for bait anytime you stepped foot in a bar. So you set up the account to appease her need to dabble in your love life. Even went on dates with a few matches, but ended up only with a couple free meals and disappointment. Needless to say, it had been a few weeks since you pursued other matches.

Your phone buzzed, your sister was ringing. “Hey, Sherri what’s up?”

“I just thought I should tell you, I scheduled a date for you tonight.” She blurted out.

You rolled your eyes. “Sherri, come on. I need a break from divorced attorneys and college bros.”

“Just hear me out. This guy seems really promising, like a 94% match.” She babbled.

“… Wait, you were on my profile?” You accused her.

“What?” She defended. “I thought it could be pizzazzed up a bit.”

“Oh my god.” You logged on to see what damage she had done.

“Well, maybe if you used a password unrelated to Jensen Ackles, perhaps it wouldn’t be so easy for me to hack in.” She argued.

Thankfully, she hadn’t messed around too much. She just updated the profile picture and added some extra information to your bio. You looked through your recent matches. “Okay, so who’s the guy?”

“His name is Jay Akens… I thought it sounded similar to Jensen’s name so you might have a slight interest.” She hinted.

You scrolled down to the match and clicked on his profile. “Ugh, he doesn’t even have a picture.”

“Listen, you can’t afford to be choosy. If all you’re hung up on is unreachable celebrities you’re never going to find anyone because your expectations are set to high.” She lectured.

“Well, I have a photo op scheduled with him in two months, so technically he is reachable.” You argued back.

“Yes, I’m sure in all of five seconds, he’s going to fall madly in love with you.” She teased.

“Shut up. I am a rational person, you know. I do realize that something like that would never happen. I just don’t want to fall for the first guy I have the slightest connection with. I’ve done that before…” You started explaining.

Sherri interrupted. “And you got hurt, and you need space to breath, and you want to think about your choices before making a commitment, blah blah blah… Honestly Y/N, you’re becoming a broken record.”

You sighed but didn’t respond.

“It’s not an actual date, just a phone call.” She urged.

You pulled up the conversation Sherri had wrote in your place. “It says he’s in the film business and with no profile pic, you know that means? He’s some pervert living in his mom’s basement and exploring options in the porn industry.”

“It’s just a phone call…” She repeated.

“… Fine, but that’s all I’m signing up for.” You gave in. “And I’m changing my password to something unrelated to Supernatural.”

“So something to do with Doctor Who.” Sherri laughed.

You hung up on her. And kept reading through his bio. Interests include country music, golfing, physical fitness and sports, playing guitar and outdoors. How the hell was this guy a 94% match?

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

I've noticed that when I speak in English which is my first language, sometimes I end sentences with "so", especially when I'm feeling awkward or don't have much to say. Example: "I was gonna go for a walk but it's raining so...". I've been studying Spanish for a few years now but I still don't talk speak the way I do in my native language. I'm wondering, is there a Spanish equivalent to my awkward " blah blah blah so..."? Thank you!

¡Hola!

There are many ways to say that, depends on the person, the context and maybe the region.

You can say: así que… (so…)

  • Iba a salir a caminar pero está lloviendo así que… - I was gonna go for a walk but it’s raining so…
  • Le mandé un mensaje pero no me ha contestado así que… - I sent her a message but she hasn’t replied so…

**This one sounds a little formal.

You can also say: y pues… (and well, so…)

  • Se fue el Internet y pues… - The Internet went down so…
  • No tenía nada mejor que hacer y pues… - I had nothing better to do so… 

**This one sounds more colloquial and natural.

In Mexico we say a lot: y así… (and like this/that, and so…)
We use this when we want to say “and stuff like that”

  • Salí con mis amigas, fuimos de compras, luego fuimos a comer y así… - I went out with my friends, we went shopping, then we went to eat and so…
  • Esta semana tengo que ir al banco, comprar unas cosas y así… - This week I have to go to the bank, buy some stuff and so… 

Sometimes we even say: y pues así (and well like that…) mostly when we finish a story.

  • […] y pues así. - […] and that’s what happened (I finished my story).
  • […] después se casaron y pues así… - […] then they got married and well that’s what happened… 

You can also say: y ya (and that’s it), when you said everything that happened, or everything you wanted to say.

  • […] vi la tele, luego me fui a dormir y ya… - I watched the TV, then I went to sleep, and that’s it…
  • Me dijo que luego me llamaba y ya… - He told me he would call me later, and that’s it….

We also say: y ya sabes… (and you know…) or y pues, ya sabes… (and well, you know…)

  • No le gustó la idea y pues, ya sabes… - She didn’t like the idea and well, you know…
  • A mi gato le gustó más la caja que el juguete y ya sabes… - My cat liked the box better than the toy, and you know…

When we’re asking something between two options sometimes we just don’t finish the question.

  • Entonces, ¿nos vamos a ver en el café o…? - So, are we going to meet at the cafe or…?
  • ¿Quieres una rebanada de pastel o…? - Do you want a piece of cake or…?

That’s all I can think of right now, maybe there’s more. I’ll update this post if I find more phrases.
Hope this was helpful! :)

anonymous asked:

hey, uhh..... remember that super duper gay jikook moment where jungkook was doing a poem after a performance, and ended with "i will become ur husband" or some shit like that while looking directly at jimin, causing jimin to fucking flip out and smile so wide and just get all flustered and giggly, while jhope and jin looked so giggly as well, they looked like probably every jikook shipper in that moment. lmao, bts who, jikook are legends *and* bfs (is joke i love all of bts with my whole heart)

JF;AEJF. WHEN JUNGKOOK WAS LIKE “I’LL BE YOUR BOYFRIEND” AND LOOKED DIRECTLY AT JIMIN AND JIMIN TOSSED TISSUE AT HIM. WHY HYES I DO REMEMBER THAT. ONE OF THE MOST FORGOTTEN ABOUT JIKOOK MOMENTS. (of course he could’ve just been looking in his general direction blah blah blah, let me live lol) 

(gifcred bwiseoks)

LIKE LOOK AT THIS. HE LOOKS DIRECTLY AT JM AFTER FINISHING SAYING THAT AND THEN YOU HAVE JIMIN WHO LAUGHS AND THROWS HIS WET TISSUE RIGHT AT HIME AND WOW. then jin is like freaking out, and yoongis just like “fucking hell”. I LIVE FOR IT. 

VMAs 2017 or how 5H ruined everything they worked for... 😔

Okay, so when I woke up this morning I was expecting to hear about the latest drama, knowing that the label and management would have surely prepared something for the VMAs, but let me tell you that it went beyond my imagination.

The stunt that happened last night, aka a Camila look-alike jumping off the stage at the beginning of the 5H performance, is to me the stupidest thing the girls could’ve agreed to. 

Because Camila is my wife, my very first reaction was one of anger. I just couldn’t believe that the girls would agree to shade Camila that way. And it’s because I believe and care so much for the OT5 friendship that it was hard for me to see the bigger picture. After calming down a little I tried to make sense of it and came to the conclusion that this stunt wasn’t against Camila, but actually for Camila.

What happened last night was a very very smart move from the label.

With a simple piece of choreography the label managed to make 5H the n°1 trending topic, make Camila as talked about as 5H even though she wasn’t even attending the show, and most horribly, to ruined the image that the girls have been working hard to build over the years and even more since Camila left.

The consequences of that event are gonna be huge for 5H because it’s gonna redefine their image in the public’s eyes. 

Female empowerment, women standing up for each other, standing up tall and moving on after Camila’s departure, wishing her the best… all of that is now discredited. Not only did it make the girls look fake, but it also took away completely the attention from their performance. Not one headline is about their vocals or their album, it’s all about the drama, and it’s not gonna go away anytime soon. This new era we’re supposed to enter is gonna be poisoned by this, once again the focus won’t be on their music.

At the end of the day LDNA are the ones who are gonna suffer the most from this. Camila will be fine, without wanting it she’s got the “victim” role in all of this. Not many people are actually aware of the ins and out of the music industry and how much is controlled by the label, those people are gonna go for the easy explanation, which is that 5H is just purely shading Camila because they don’t like her and they wanted to humiliate her - and many many fans who were still wondering whether they should or not pick a side are definitely gonna pick one. And obviously that’s the objective of the label all along. They’re using 5H to boost Camila before her album comes out.

Once again this is a perfect example of how powerful the label is and how they can fuck over any artist and make it look like they did it by themselves. I’m not angry anymore, but deeply disappointed and sad. I wish the girls would’ve stood up against it. I know it’s probably a really hard thing to do and would’ve made things really complicated for them but at least they would’ve kept their integrity instead of shooting themselves in the foot and pleasing a label they despise. It’s gonna be painful to watch them try to justify that “creative choice” by saying they were telling a story and blah blah blah when we all perfectly know that those first few seconds of the performance were not necessary.

I don’t what you think but I also believe that Lauren might have been confirming that it was the label and not them behind all of this, with this tweet :

I don’t think she’s using the word “EPIC” as an adjective, I think she’s referencing the label, saying that it was EPIC who orchestrated everything. Anyway that’s my personal opinion.

So I’m not gonna answer the 102 asks I got about this because this is pretty much all I have to say about it. Oh and also I CAN’T FUCKING WAIT FOR THE GIRLS TO GET OUT OF THAT FUCKING SHITTY LABEL ONCE AND FOR ALL.

Damsel in Distress- Auston Matthews

Originally posted by austonmatthews-34

I literally have nothing witty to say here. Anon, I totally understood your request so don’t worry! I hope y'all enjoy it!

Warning: creepy stalker dude

Anon Request: Do you think you can do one where you are at a store and some like creepy dude won’t leave you alone and you are like wtf and creeped out and you see Auston (and like you don’t know him also by Auston I mean Matthews Auston Matthews) and are like dude can you help I don’t know this guy and he’s following me and blah blah blah and i don’t know this sounds confusing but I’m bad at explaining things. I’m sorry

~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/

              You had had better ideas in your life.

Keep reading

Five Times Tony Stark Was a Good Dad (And One Time He Wasn’t) Pt.2

Wow…I have no words, you guys are amazing and I’m so thankful for the amount of love this story has received! I really hope you guys like this chapter, it’s kind of long, I definitely had fun writing it and I hope you guys enjoy it! Please let me know if you guys have an suggestions! 

P.S. I glanced over this, so it’s technically considered un-edited, so forgive any mistakes!

Read Part 1 here

~~~~~~~

Peter tapped his pen against his Chemistry notebook rhythmically, eyeing the clock on the wall with keen interest as the seconds ticked by too slowly for his liking. He was ready to get out of here and back into Mr. Stark’s—Tony’s lab and work on some upgrades for his web-shooters. He had a few ideas he thought up last night and he was excited to run them Mr.—Tony. 

That one was still taking a while to get used to. 

Ned was scribbling down notes next to him, something Peter should be doing too, but instead he was sketching out a new formula for his web-fluid and he wondered if Ned would mind being a bro and letting him copy his notes after class. 

“—and I know everyone is anxious to get out of here, but if you could spare a few minutes of your time, I want to discuss the end of semester project with you guys—”

Peter fought back a groan. 

While admittedly, Chemistry was one of Peter’s favorite subjects and he had no problem knocking out the homework for this class, however, a project was something that was time consuming and time was something Peter was in short supply of these days. Ever since becoming Spider-Man, Peter’s attention to school and his work and his grades had started to waver. Luckily, May just blamed it on teenage rebellion and his commitment to his “internship” with Stark Industries. A few weeks ago, when Tony had shown up to his school completely out of the blue and offered him one on one time with him (and a rather starstruck Ned) and his lab, he held true to his promise of having Peter over again and now, Peter was over at the tower three or four times a week, working on upgrades for his suit or helping Tony with his suit (Peter wouldn’t admit it, but it still blew his mind that he got to actually touch the Iron Man suit, let alone help design new features for it) or Tony’s more recent project, developing new legs for a now paralyzed Rhodey. 

Tony was determined to make a set of robotic legs that would allow Rhodey to walk normally again and Peter was happy to help him. Besides Germany—and even then, after getting a plane dropped on him by Captain fucking America, Peter’s recollection of the events were hazy at best—he had yet to meet the iconic War Machine, but he could remember Tony’s agitation on the way back to his apartment, his fingers drumming on the leather seat, constantly checking his StarkPhone for news. Tony being Tony, he tried to hide it underneath jokes and sarcasm, but Peter could see the worry in his eyes, the tension in his jaw and he knew that Tony was afraid. Afraid of losing yet another person and he knew that his fear, his guilt at not being able to save Rhodey, pushed him to make him the best prosthetic legs that would best even human legs. 

And Peter knew, that if anyone could accomplish it, it would be Mr. Stark. 

Whoops, Tony.

The bell rang, bringing Peter out of his thoughts and he heard his chemistry teacher sigh, “Alright, I thought we had more time and I know you guys are ready to get out of here, so I’ve taken the liberty of typing up the project requirements, so please collect them on your way out and have a good weekend guys.”

Peter hastily shoved his notebook into his (new) backpack—he had a bad habit of misplacing his backpacks and was now on his fourth one—and walked up to the front of the classroom, where a small line had formed in front of Mr. Smith’s desk, students jockeying for a position at the front of the line in order to get an information packet and leave.

He ended up behind Flash, who glanced over his shoulder when he heard someone approach and visibly paled when he saw it was Peter, but tried covering it up with a dirty look before turning back around. 

Peter hadn’t heard much from Flash since Tony’s verbal annihilation of him in front of the whole school a couple of weeks ago. He seemed to be heeding Tony’s warning and keeping any unnecessary snide comments to himself. 

Peter overheard part of Ms. Potts’ rather…colorful phone call to Tony, his heightened senses picking up her ire with him until they got ten blocks away and her angry voice and Tony’s pleading had faded into the honking horns, the clanging of the trains and the thousands of voices in the restless Queens neighborhood. 

He wasn’t sure what became of that particular situation, anytime he’d ask, Tony would just distract him with a new idea for his suit or deflect his question with a sarcastic comment and finally, Peter just decided to give up. Whatever happened, though, seemed to work, because Flash hasn’t even bothered to even look in Peter’s direction and seemed to be going out of his way to not even be within ten feet of Peter, which was more than fine with Peter. 

When it was Peter’s turn, he grabbed two packets, one for him and another one for the slowly approaching Ned, who was still writing down notes in his notebook. 

Peter raised an eyebrow, “Dude, why are you still taking notes? The lecture ended like, ten minutes ago.”

Ned looked up, startled from his hasty note taking and for the first time since class had started, made eye contact with Peter. 

“Didn’t you hear Mr. Smith? Our final’s on Tuesday and I was finishing the review notes.”

At Peter’s horrified look, Ned paused, giving Peter a strange look, “Um, weren’t you paying attention at all?”

Peter rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, giving a nervous laugh, “Uh, heh, see I was working on some new ideas for my,” he gave a quick glance around the classroom, and seeing a few lingering people, he lowered his voice, “you know, project.” He said, giving Ned a meaningful look. 

Ned just continued to look confused, “Uh, we just found out about the project, like, five seconds ago, how could you—oh,” he muttered, eyes widening in realization when Peter mimed his web-shooting, “—that project. Right, I knew that.”

“Uh huh,” Peter said, completely unconvinced, as he began walking out of the classroom and into the busy hallway, “so anyways, review notes—“

Ned, however, seemed completely oblivious to “Hey, do you think I can help you? You know, with your,” Ned took a surreptitious look around the hallway, “project? Like, I was thinking and you could use, like, an arsenal of your, stuff—“

A girl walking past them shot Ned a disgusted look and Peter flushed, “Look, Ned, I appreciate it, but Mr. Star—Tony, has it covered. I’ve seen the blue prints and he has like, five hundred different web combinations and they’re so awesome—“

“You’re on a first name basis with Iron Man?!”  Ned said loudly and the people still lingering in the hallway turned and glanced in their direction curiously. Peter laughed nervously, giving them an awkward wave before turning back to Ned, shooting him a glaring

Dude.” Peter hissed, annoyed. 

Ned gave him a weak smile, “Sorry.”

Peter sighed, shaking his head, “Look, right now, I need to worry about passing Chemistry and that starts with this project,” Peter said, staring down at the paper in his hands forlornly, “which sucks because I was supposed to help Mr. Stark with more Iron Man upgrades today and I had this totally awesome idea for my web shooters that I thought of in Chemistry that I was gonna run by him and now I have to cancel—“

“Cancel on who?” A familiar voice said from behind him. Ned squeaked in surprise, seeming to forget that he’d met the man before and even played with his robots, “and kid, what’d I tell you about the whole Mr. Stark thing? It makes me feel old and I’m clearly anything but old.”

Peter closed his eyes, wincing, before turning around and giving Tony a panicked look, “Uh, hi um, Tony, what are you doing here?”

Tony gave him an assessing look and Peter swore he could see a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, but when he blinked it was gone, “I guess aside from a new phone, I also need to get you a calendar, you see it’s Friday and you usually come to the tower on Friday—“

“No, I know that, I just meant, well, usually Happy picks me up.” Peter said lamely, twisting his hands nervously. 

Tony raised his eyebrow, eyeing his hands, “Happy’s waiting in the car, I came to see what was taking you so long.”

Peter’s eyes widened, Oh, well, it’s just well, I uh, something’s come up so—“

Both eyebrows raised this time and Peter stuttered, “Uh, well, you see, um—“

“Peter’s flunking Chemistry,” Ned blurted out, “and we got assigned this ridiculous project today and it’s worth half of our final grade and we only have until Monday to do it—“

Ned.” Peter whispered harshly, shooting him a betrayed look over his shoulder. 

He at least had the decency to look sheepish. 

“I knew there was a reason I liked you, Ned,” Tony said approvingly and Ned preened at the praise. Turning to Peter, he nodded to the paper still clutched in Peter’s hand and held his hand out, “normally I have a thing with people handing me things, but c’mon, cough it up.” he said, wiggling his fingers and reluctantly, Peter handed it over and Tony read it over. 

“Chain reactions blah blah blah, build a model of a paper maché volcano and pick two chemical elements from below that can cause a chain reaction in the volcano and make it erupt, blah blah, science stuff, or if you can think any other natural disasters that can cause a chain reaction, blah and more science stuff, due Monday, worth half of you final grade—“

Tony blinked, “Huh, I didn’t know they were still making you do these things—seriously, a paper maché volcano? The education system needs a serious reboot.”

Tony folded the paper in half and then tucked it in to his suit jacket, “Right, well, this sounds important so we better get started—I’d say you could tag along, Ned, but the Audi only seats two, so.” He nodded at him and turned on his heel and began walking down the hallway. 

Ned was torn between staring after Tony’s retreating figure and staring at Peter with disbelieving eyes, “Dude, are you sure that spider that bit you is dead? Because honestly? I could go for a radio-active spider bite if it means I get to work on my school project with Tony Stark—“

“Underoos, you coming? We’ve got a few stops to make before we head back to the tower, so get a move on, a little pep in the step.” Tony said, stopping at the end of the hallway and gesturing to the door with a dramatic sweep of his arm.

“Good-bye, Ned.” Peter said with a roll of his eyes. 

“Well, fine—I’ll make my own radioactive Spider since you don’t want to share! An army of radioactive spiders, an army Peter—“

Ignoring the stares from the few students that were still at the school, Peter followed Tony out to the front of the school and to his illegally parked, sleek candy apple red Audi R8 Spyder. Peter practically salivated at the sight of the car—barely managing a half-hearted wave at Happy who was parked behind Tony in the town car—running his fingers reverently over the door handle, all but whimpering at the warm paint and fiberglass underneath his fingertips. 

He jumped when the wind rolled down with a barely audible hum, Tony’s body craning over the gear shift to stare at Peter impatiently, “Are you gonna stand there and drool all over my car or actually get in it?”

Peter flushed, hastily opening the door and situating himself in the plush leather seats, “Where are we going?” he asked as he closed the door gently.

Tony revved the engine, darting out into the late afternoon traffic, “My lab isn’t stocked with everything we need and I know just the place.”

~~~~~~

Hobby Lobby to Tony, Peter was learning, was what most candy stores were to toddlers. 

He weaved in and out of the aisles with such ease that led Peter to believe that this wasn’t his first trip here and Peter followed him, for lack of any other options and watched in disbelief as Tony threw item after item into the cart, not even bothering to look at prices.

“Mr. Stark—there’s no way I can afford all this, May only gives me twenty dollars a week and this looks like it’s way more than twenty dollars—“

Peter looked down at all the supplies in the cart mournfully, his wallet physically aching at the amount of…stuff Mr. Stark had piled into the cart. This was supposed to be a little chemistry project and Mr. Stark was treating it like one of his projects. Expensive, flashy, but bound to impress, as usual. 

Tony seemed to be paying him no mind, however, holding up a box of plastic palm trees with an interest that would be amusing if dancing dollar signs weren’t obscuring Peter’s vision and making him vaguely nauseous. 

“Nonsense, kid,” Mr. Stark said dismissively, reading the back of the box with a quirked brow, “do you think twenty-five of these things would be enough? We don’t want it to be too tropical looking because Chile, believe it or not, has a nice balance between palm trees and regular trees—and hey, didn’t I tell you stop calling me that? It’s Tony or nothing.”

“Okay, Nothing,” Peter said cheekily and at Tony’s glare, his smirk faded, “s-sorry, uh, Tony.” 

Tony’s lip twitched into a smile, as he tossed two boxes of the plastic palm trees into their cart and continued down the aisle, giving Peter no choice but to follow.

“Seriously, Tony I can’t accept this—“

Tony stopped so suddenly that Peter narrowly missed hitting him with the cart, once again thankful for his quick reflexes, stopping the cart just shy of ramming him in the ankles. 

Tony turned to Peter, eyes unusually devoid of his signature sunglasses, giving Peter a rare opportunity to see the depth of emotions flash through his dark eyes.

“Kid,” Tony started, but stopped himself, letting out a sigh. He looked tired, like he was fighting an internal battle and losing and suddenly, Peter felt a surge of sympathy for the billionaire standing in front of him. 

“Look, my dad never…took an interest in this—stuff,” Tony said, gesturing to the cart full of merchandise, everything from a papier mâché kit, paint, fake grass to the plastic palm trees and those little foam building kit things Peter remembered making in kindergarten, “actually, I’ve never made one of these things before, can’t exactly turn one of these things in at MIT and expect to get an A in chem lab,” Tony continued with a snort, “anyway, my point is, I don’t really mind helping you with this, homework, projects, whatever.” He finished, waving a dismissive hand

Peter was taken aback, not expecting something that…vulnerable to come out of Tony’s mouth, especially in aisle eight of Hobby Lobby, but either way, Peter was touched. 

Uncle Ben always helped him with these projects and while he always said he was never as smart as his brother, Peter’s dad, he was still good at putting things together and as long as Peter did all the science-y stuff, as he liked to call it, he’d help him piece it together. 

Peter knew that Tony couldn’t ever take Uncle Ben’s place, no one could, and while he wasn’t sure why Tony went out of his way to help Peter, he knew Tony would never try to replace what Uncle Ben was to him. And Peter himself hadn’t quite figured out where Tony fit into his life, but he cared about Tony like he did Aunt May and Ned and possibly MJ, in her own little twisted way. 

And he knew that Tony cared about him, in his own way, because if he didn’t, he wouldn’t be dropping, what Peter was sure, well over three hundred dollars in Hobby Lobby for Peter’s dumb little science project that was soon becoming something to be featured at next years Stark Expo if Tony’s rough outline he’d drawn up in the car on the back of the project packet was actually brought to life. 

“Besides,” Tony continued off-handedly, “I already knew you were flunking Chemistry, your rather attractive Aunt called me and told me your grades were slipping because of the ‘internship’—which we’ll discuss later, by the way—so I thought that until they get back on level ground, we won’t be working on any upgrades anytime soon and focusing, instead, on getting you through the tenth grade.”

Peter opened his mouth to protest—his grades weren’t that bad, with all things considered. And while maybe they weren’t up to his usual standard (Peter had never gotten a grade lower than a B before in his life) they were still passing. Peter sometimes wished he had an average level of intellect, because if he hadn’t been such an overachiever with all the extra-curricular activities and maintaining a 4.0 GPA in the process, well, his grades dropping to B’s and C’s wouldn’t seem like the end of the world—but Tony was already off again, weaving through the aisles and tossing random things into the cart, that, at this point, Peter was sure had nothing to do with his actual project and were more so there because Tony thought they were cool.

“Do you think this place has food dye? A good volcano has to have red lava and no kid of mine is going to have a volcano with substandard lava. What do you think about actual fire coming out of the top of the volcano? Is that too much? Nothing crazy of course, just a few minor pyrotechnics to give it that extra pop—“

Peter rolled his eyes, but silently agreed that fire coming out of the top  would be pretty awesome, even if it was slight over-kill, and trailed after Tony, who was muttering something about color schemes and an earthquake involving batteries, and tried to ignore the smile that threatened at the corner of his lips at Tony calling him his kid. 

~~~~

After their very expensive trip into Hobby Lobby—Peter still felt dizzy and vaguely nauseous at the memory of Tony, not even batting an eye at the grand total, whipping out a black Amex and swiping it without even a sign of hesitation that Peter may or may not have been searching for—they made their way back to the Tower, Tony gesturing to Happy to grab the bags as he took a call from Pepper about the newest StarkPhone release. 

Happy shot him a reproachful look, but it was replaced by something that resembled a smile, at least, by Happy’s standards, when Peter silently walked around to the trunk of the car and helped gather some of the bags. Peter, with his super spidey strength, managed to grab the majority of the bags, leaving Happy with two. 

“Show off.” Happy muttered grumpily, which Peter gracefully ignored and lead the way down to the lab, where Happy deposited his bags and made a quick escape before Peter could even blink. 

While he waited for Tony to get off the phone, Peter pulled up some ideas for his volcano on the internet and began scrolling through the websites google had offered up. 

He didn’t have much time to browse before Tony came down to the lab, trading his three piece suit that Peter was sure was worth more than six months worth of May’s rent, for his usual lab attire—an old band t-shirt and grease stained jeans, an outfit, Peter was sure, was still worth more than any meager possessions Peter had combined. 

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., please pull up the blue prints for Underoos school project,” Tony said, clapping his hands together and Peter was a bit taken a back by the amount of eagerness that gleamed in his eyes.

Following his request, the lights in the room dimmed and in the center of the lab, a hologram of a real life volcano appeared, scaled down to about an eight feet by ten feet measurement and glowing brightly in the dimness of the lab. Peter’s mouth dropped open in awe, his cracked phone lying forgotten on the lab table behind him as he made his way over to study the diagram more closely. 

It was the same sketch that was on the back of the paper explaining the project, only this time, Peter could see the added details that Tony must’ve added on the car ride back to the tower. Everything from the layers of the volcano, down to the last of the fifty palm trees Tony had insisted on buying. 

“This is amazing,” Peter breathed, eyes wide, hungrily taking in every detail. 

Tony hummed in satisfaction, coming to stand beside Peter, eyeing the hologram with a sense of pride he didn’t even bother to hide, “It is, isn’t it? I took some artistic liberties, modeling it after the actual volcano but adding more aesthetically pleasing attributes, like if Mount Vesuvius was in Hawaii. If there’s anything on here that you don’t like, we can take it out, scrap it and start over—“

Peter wasn’t really sure what possessed him to do it—he knew how Tony felt about emotional displays of affection, let alone physical displays of affection, but he was just overwhelmed with all the time Tony had put into this little chemistry project and the lengths Tony had gone to help Peter with it. No one, no one, had ever gone to such trouble for Peter, especially for something that was so small and seemingly insignificant in the grand scheme of all the things Tony Stark had to do that were far more important than Peter’s Chemistry grade—but he found himself pressed against Mr. Stark’s strong chest, his arms that were still bony even after the spider bite, wrapping around Tony’s waist and squeezing. 

“Thank you, Tony.” Peter whispered, his voice a few octaves higher thanks to well, not quite completing puberty and the amount of pure excitement flooding through his veins. 

Tony froze, clearly caught off guard, arms flailing awkwardly at his sides before he settled them on Peter’s shoulders, squeezing them quickly, his discomfort with the situation quite obvious, “Um, is this a hug, right? It’s just, I’m not quite sure, it looked like you were reaching out to touch the hologram so this would be a little awkward if that was the case—“

Peter huffed a laugh, stepping away from Tony’s stilted body, cheeks flaming in embarrassment, “Uh, sorry, Tony, heh, my bad.”

Tony couldn’t help but smile, rolling his eyes and clapping Peter on the shoulder, “C’mon, kid, we’ve only got the weekend to do this, we better get started.”

Peter bobbed his head in agreement, taking one last look at the holographic blue prints still floating in the middle of the lab before he began wandering back to the lab table, where all of their supplies were laid out and ready for use. 

Before he could wander too far, a hand reached out and grasped him on the shoulder. Tony gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze, smile slightly unsure, but his dark eyes were sincere, “Don’t mention it, kiddo.”

~~~~~~

“Alright, so test one—DUM-E, don’t make me regret putting you on fire duty again, one wrong move and you get demoted—Peter, hit the button on my mark, F.R.I.D.A.Y, give me a little mood lighting please and three, two, one—“

Tony gestured for Peter to hit the button and with a small click as Peter complied, they waited for it and—

Nothing

DUM-E chirped unhappily from his designated spot by the corner of the lab table and Peter shared his sentiment. 

Tony visibly deflated, sighing, “Well, that was anti-climatic. Alright, Underoos, strip it apart, we’ve got some requiring to do—and hey, DUM-E, don’t think I can’t see your little trigger happy fingers, no fire, no extinguishing, capiche?”

If a robot could sound contrite, DUM-E’s little defeated hoot would fall into that category and Peter couldn’t help but laugh.

~~~~~

“Alight, test two on my mark—DUM-E, look alive—and three, two, one—“

BOOM!

The volcano exploded, red dye going everywhere, splattering all over the table, a flabbergasted Peter and an equally as surprised Tony. Flames erupted from the top, like someone flipped on a blow torch and couldn’t shut it off and right on cue, DUM-E blasted the volcano with the fire extinguisher a little too enthusiastically and Peter coughed violently, his heightened senses going into overload at the overeager assault. 

“Okay, DUM-E—DUM-E,” Tony shouted, snapping his fingers to get the overzealous bot’s attention, “That’s enough—no, DUM-E,” Tony said warningly when the bot’s claw reached for the trigger again, “do you want to wear the Dunce hat again? Because I will, so help me.”

DUM-E gave a petulant chirp and Peter reached over to give him a consoling pat on the head, to which DUM-E hooted brightly. 

Tony gave Peter an exasperated look, “First rule of parenting: don’t reward bad behavior and look,” he said accusingly, gesturing between the two, “you’re encouraging it.”

Peter scowled, putting a protective hand on DUM-E, “He’s just trying to help, he’s just…committed, see? No more fire.” Peter said, nodding towards the rather thorough job DUM-E did, where the previously flamed-engulfed volcano that was threatening to set the lab on fire was now extinguished, smoke curling still curling in the air and only occasionally letting out an ominous hissing sound that Peter tried not to think too much on.

Tony rolled his eyes, but seem to let it go and focus on the now fulling hissing volcano, “Okay, that was too close to an actual volcanic eruption and while cool, that’s not safe for any classroom, we’re not trying to reenact Pompeii or anything.” 

Tony gave the volcano a gentle nudge, jumping back when a flame flared and DUM-E, still on standby, gave it another keen dousing from the fire extinguisher. 

“DUM-E, that’s—no, DUM-E no—“

~~~~~~

It took them a few more tries and a few more explosions and Tony eventually revoking DUM-E’s fire safety privileges and threatening to turn him into a blender, for them to get a volcanic eruption that didn’t burst into flames or just trickle sadly out of the soda bottle that was serving as their prototype for the volcano. 

F.R.I.D.A.Y. interrupted them in the middle of building the platform to remind Tony that he still had yet to actually eat anything and as if on cue, Peter’s stomach growled loudly.

He gave Tony a sheepish smile, “I didn’t eat lunch today.”

Tony sighed, rubbing his eyes, “Alright, c’mon kid, I can’t have you passing out on the lab floor, U still isn’t that great with a broom yet, let alone picking up actual humans, so let’s get you some food—you like Thai, right?”

Peter nodded the affirmative and he let Tony lead him out of the lab up to the main floor of the tower to the kitchen, gesturing for him to take a seat at the counter. 

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., pull up some menus for the kid to look at and while you’re at it, go a head and put in my usual order.” 

“It’s already been done, sir.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. responded as she brought up local Thai menus for Peter to peruse.

“Have I told you lately that I love you?” Tony asked the dutiful A.I.

“As my memory serves me, sir, you’ve never actually used those particular words to express such outwards displays of affection before, so no, you have not.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. replied dryly 

Tony frowned and Peter snorted in amusement at the sass, but stifled it at Tony’s glare. 

“Uh, I’ll just have two orders of Larb with a side of white rice and sticky rice pudding for later,” Peter said hastily, tapping away the menus. 

“Got that, F.R.I.D.A.Y.?” Tony asked and the A.I. replied in the affirmative. 

“Yes, sir, ETA is twenty minutes.” She confirmed. 

When the food arrived, they sat at the counter and ate their respective dishes and chatted amicably about their day. Tony watched as Peter all but inhaled his food, much to Tony’s amusement and slight concern that went unnoticed by Peter, who was too absorbed in his sticky rice pudding and shouting trivia questions at F.R.I.D.A.Y. for his history homework. 

He wasn’t sure if it was just basic teenage growing pains—Tony could remember his mother chastising his eating habits at that age, comparing him to a garbage disposal with the amount of food he could pack away—or if his metabolism, along with everything else in the kid’s DNA, had been enhanced as well. Which, come to think of it, wasn’t that far fetched and Tony made a mental note to hack into Oscorp’s files to see if he could dig anything up on the spider that had given Peter his powers and compare it to the serum that was responsible for Captain Righteous and his abilities. 

Tony found it ironic how he could care less about his own eating habits, but yet, here he was, watching as Peter basically licked his plate clean and the worry just continued to gnaw away at his stomach and he had to wonder if it ever went away. 

This thought continued as they finished their meals and went back down into the lab and continued working on Peter’s project that was shaping up to be pretty awesome if Tony did say so himself. They worked well together, both of them focused and bouncing ideas off of each other that always seemed to be on the same wave length and Tony lived for it. The only other person who ever shared his love for science was Bruce and he hadn’t heard from him since Ultron and that familiar ache settled into his chest at memories of what used to be.

But that ache was soothed when he turned to see how Peter’s attempts at papier maché were going and a small, fond smile crossed his lips at the sight of Peter, passed out on the lab table, head cushioned by the pile of newspaper, shoulders rising and falling in soft snores. 

Glancing down at his StarkWatch, he noticed they’d been down here for over four hours and it was heading closer to ten o’clock and after taking another look at Peter’s face, seeing the dark shadows under his eyes and ever growing bags, he deiced against waking the kid to take him home. 

Instead, he told F.R.I.D.A.Y. to text May and let her know that Peter would be crashing at the tower tonight and then he scooped the kid up from the chair in a bridal carry, tucking his head underneath his chin and made his way out of the lab and into the elevator, murmuring to F.R.I.D.A.Y. to take him to the penthouse floor. 

When they arrived to Tony’s floor, he ambled down the hall way, stopping a few doors dow from his room, to what used to be a guest room, but had been re-decorated and personalized for the kid currently snuggling into his chest. After the kid’s first visit to tower, Tony had decided to give Peter his own room in case he ever wanted it or needed it, whatever the reason, he wanted the kid to know that he had a place to come to, that he was always welcome here. 

He pulled back the dark blue comforter and matching sheets, placing Peter gently down on the California king bed, untying his ratty Converse and tossing them to the foot of the bed so the kid wouldn’t trip over them in the morning.  

Peter murmured something in his sleep and for a moment, Tony was afraid that he’d woken him up, but Peter simply settled against the pillow, snuggling further into the blankets and seemed to relax against the soft sheets. 

Something warm and unfamiliar unfurled in his chest at the sight of kid snoozing away in the too big bed and not for the first time, Tony was struck with just how young the kid was. Peter carried himself with such maturity and a level headedness that Tony had never seen before in some adults, let alone teenagers, that sometimes, Tony forgot that he was in fact, a teenager, who still had school projects to do and had a weekly allowance and worried about pimples and zits and when puberty would finally end and if the pretty girl at school even knew he existed, let alone knew his name and it made Tony so angry, to think that this kid had been robbed of a normal childhood.

Tony learned at a young age that the world was a cruel bitch and he wished, more than anything, that Peter could’ve been spared that lesson for just a little bit longer. Peter was just so good and kind and he deserved so much better than the hand that he’d been dealt. He didn’t deserve to carry the weight of being a teenager and a superhero all at once and looking down at the dark shadows lurking underneath Peter’s closed eyes, Tony vowed to himself that he’d do anything he could to shoulder some of that weight. 

He brushed Peter’s dark hair off of his forehead, a small smile dancing on his lips when Peter leaned into his touch. 

“Goodnight, Peter.”

~~~~~~~~~~

It took them the entire weekend, but they got Peter’s volcano finished and the end result was worth all the time they’d spent in the lab. Tony couldn’t remember the last time he threw himself into something so heavily, the last model of the Iron Man suit or the first prototype of Peter’s suit or Rhodey’s legs, maybe, but despite the exhaustion, it felt good to be of use to someone again. 

And the giant grin on Peter’s face as he stood back and admired their work was worth any re-painting he was going have to the lab after the many explosions they faced in the beginning of the project. Red dye was literally everywhere, but chose to put that thought out of his mind for now and enjoy the look on Peter’s face as he took in his school project. 

It was Peter’s idea to use the earthquake in Chile as a catalyst for the volcanic eruption that occurred three days later. Underneath the board, they’d built replicas of tectonic plates that visibly shifted, simulating a real earthquake when they pressed a button. After the ‘earthquake’ was over, the volcano rumbled and hissed, steam rising and Tony got his wish for small flames to burst from the volcano—even though Peter was pretty sure that there weren’t actual flames involved with a real volcanic eruption, but Tony looked so excited at the the prospect of flames in a classroom that Peter didn’t have the heart to say no—and rocks tumbled down into the small town with roads, a replica of the ocean and little foam towns with little G.I. Joe figures serving as the town’s occupants. 

Peter was definitely getting an A

“This is awesome,” he breathed, turning wide brown eyes to Tony, “thank you so much, seriously, this is…” he trailed off, shaking his head in disbelief, “so much more than what I imagined.” he finished softly, looking back up at Tony with so much admiration and gratitude that Tony shifted awkwardly, unsure what to do. 

“It’s no problem, kid, seriously,” Tony said finally, clearing his throat, “like I said the other day, my dad never did…anything like this with me,” Tony paused, “not to insinuate that you think of me as your dad or anything, heh, it’s probably best that you don’t, I’m not the greatest role model and why do you think I never had kids? It’s not something I’m meant for, you know, the whole soccer dad vibe isn’t really my style and with the whole superhero thing too, I mean—“

Tony was cut off by Peter wrapping his arms around him—seriously, this kid had a bad habit of catching Tony off guard with all the random displays of affection—and settling his head on his chest. 

Tony, despite his hesitation with such obvious displays, he wrapped his arms around the kid and gave him a squeeze. He hated to admit it, but the kid was growing on him, a lot more than he originally planned. 

Peter pulled away, cheeks beat red, but a small smile was playing on his lips, “For what it’s worth, I think you’d make a great dad,” Peter glanced down at his shoes, scuffing them against the white tiling, “I don’t really remember much about my dad and Ben was the closest thing I’ve ever had,” he faltered, biting his lip, “but, you’ve kind of filled that void? I mean, you didn’t really take his place, but, you remind me of him, in a lot of ways? Like, he used to help me with this stuff and it just means a lot to me, that you’re here for me and I—“ Peter coughed, glancing up at Tony with a sheepish smile, “So thank you, for well, being you.” he finished lamely, blushing. 

Tony was taken aback by the kid’s confession, but his heart warmed, “Kid,” he began gently, putting a hand on Peter’s shoulder, “I hope you know that it’s not my goal to take your Uncle’s place or replace him in any sort of way,” he paused, considering his next words, “I just want you to know that I’m here for you, whenever you need me.”

Peter smiled and Tony clapped him on the back, “Now, c’mon kid, let’s get you home. Your hot Aunt probably thinks I’ve kidnapped you or something, I’ll have Happy drop your project off at school tomorrow.”

~~~~~~

Peter did get his A, but there was a…slight mishap with the flames and Flash’s eyebrows (or lack thereof) and that was how he found himself, along with Tony, in the principal’s office, facing a very unimpressed Mr. Morita. 

“Mr. Stark, while it’s an honor to meet you, I wish it was under different circumstances. We encourage ingenuity here at Mid-Town and we wish for our students to get creative with their projects, but flames, in a classroom—“

“In my defense, that kid was standing way too close to Peter’s project to begin with—“

“And that kid, Mr. Stark, happens to be the kid you verbally assaulted out on the front lawn a few weeks ago—“

“Okay, have you met that kid? He was asking for it, what kind of name is Flash anyway? And besides, that kid was picking on my kid—“

Peter shrunk down in his chair, but he couldn’t hide the grin on his face. Peter could admit that the flames were too much,but he got an A and was no longer flunking Chemistry, Flash no longer had eyebrows and Tony called him his kid again. Whatever repercussions he was facing was totally worth it.

~~~~

Thank you guys for reading! Let me know what you think or if you have an more suggestions for more stories or where you’d like to see this one go!

@bonza-bear @ohheyitssophaye @clara-angi @bsicthought  here you go guys, I tagged you like you asked ! :) if you want to be tagged, let me know!