A question about leggings, so basically my favorite question ever

I got the following email last night with the subject line “New to leggings”:

I have been reading for a while now and I finally have a question of my own. I know you post all the time about various slug-like legging options, but for someone who is new to even the idea of leggings, where do I start? I’m hoping to come in at a reasonable price, they don’t need to be more than a basic knit legging, but any ideas on a pair that might not sag/bag out? I work from home a few days a week and am still wearing college-era sweats that are way past their expiration date. I’d love to be able to work from home and not have to change before leaving the house :)


Okay, pull up a chair. Leggings are serious business.

(Just to be clear, once and for all, leggings are pants—if you hide the goodies—but they are not pants you can wear to work unless you work at home.)

Sorry, I’m having trouble focusing because leggings are only my very favorite thing in the whole wide world. THEREFORE, this question is amazing.

As you pointed out, the best leggings are versatile leggings. By versatile, I mean that they can be worn to the gym, on the couch, with boots, with tunics, with flats, WHEREVER WHENEVER.

The most versatile leggings are activewear leggings. They’re also (usually) opaque, stand up to tons of thrashing and wash cycles and are made of high-quality, thick fabric. It’s worth spending a little more on good leggings because you’ll wear them more than you think (I could be projecting here) and they won’t disintegrate, rip, tear, sag, bag or pill in the first five wears.

Here are my recommendations:

  • The first pair you should buy are Zella’s Live In Leggings in black. They are $52 and you will wear them constantly. They are soft, thick, opaque and suck everything in. This is your gateway drug into the land of leggings. Once you wear these, you will never want to put on another pair of real pants ever again. I wear these to the gym, but I also wear them with sweaters and boots or flats. I mean, I’m writing this while wearing Zella leggings so if that’s not an endorsement, I don’t know what is.
  • Once you are completely hooked on your black Zella leggings, branch out and get a pair with a bit of a pattern. I like these Zella space dye ones ($58). Gray or space dye or marled leggings look fantastic with white/cream sweaters and cognac boots. Add a trenchcoat, done! Slugtastic.
  • Now you’re addicted, right? You’re IN IT. The thought of putting denim on your legs makes you want to weep. TIME FOR LULULEMON. I actually really hate Lululemon right now because they have the most foot-in-mouth, self-sabotaging marketing and leadership teams in all of retail, but their Wunder Unders ($82) do magical, flattering things to butts.
  • My Ellie leggings get the second-heaviest rotation into my day-to-day dressing. (Zella leggings are first.) I have so many pairs but the Tahiti leggings and the My New Obsession leggings are all-time favorites. If you want to sign up for Ellie’s monthly membership, that’s where you get the best deals. It’s $50 per month, so $25 per pair of leggings, and you can skip any month you want. If you want to sign up, I’d be really happy if you used my referral link.
  • GapFit leggings are also pretty great. Since Gap offers promotion codes basically every day, you can nearly always pick up a pair for an affordable price. I don’t own any of their full-length leggings, but I do have a few cropped pairs and really like them. Their gFast leggings ($45) are the most popular.
  • Worth noting: I have received two pairs of Fabletics cropped leggings so far and they are the closest to Zella/Wunder Unders that I’ve found. (Sidenote: I’m wearing the long-sleeved shirt I got from them at this very second and it is so comfortable and so high-quality—really amazing stuff.) Once again, I’d love you forever if you use my referral link.
  • If you want something a little more legitimate than leggings, Target has the best ponte pants for the money. Ponte pants are really just a way for you to be able to say, “I’m actually wearing pants.” But they’re not REAL pants. They’re leggings in disguise. These are just $20 and are so comfortable. They also have a trendy coated pair for $20 that I want to check out.

I hope this helps. Go forth and be comfy.



Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Request: Can you write a smutty mafia boss au where Yoongi is known to be the most heartless person alive and would kill anyone in an instant, but when he comes home he treats his wife like a queen and would do anything for her.

Yoongi adjusts the cuffs of his expensive designer suit as he steps into the elevator.

He catches sight of himself in the mirror of the elevator. He hair is parted at the side, the jet black strands contrast beautifully with his pale skin giving him an intimidating, almost ghostly look. His eyes are cold and unreadable and despite his rather small height, his overbearing presence is enough to make even the bravest of men cry.

He smirks at the younger boy next to him, Jungkook, who seems to be staring at the older in awe. Yoongi had taken Jungkook under his wing a few weeks ago when he’d found the boy battered and bloody on the side of the road. It was unusual of Yoongi to show such kindness, his reputation of being a cold hearted killer preceded him, and everyone had been surprised at his act of generosity.

Maybe Yoongi was becoming too soft.

He would continually insist that he was only using Jungkook for personal gain, the boy was proving to have a lot of potential after all. He could probably make Yoongi and the organisation as a whole a lot of money in the future. Yet, there was another reason Yoongi was so fond of the boy, he reminded Yoongi of himself when he was younger. Back when his final shred of innocence hadn’t been taken away.

When the doors of the lift open, Yoongi takes the lead, confidently striding down the hallway with Jungkook following behind like a loyal little puppy. When he reaches the right room, he swings the door open without hesitation and everyone sitting inside falls silent due to his powerful, intimidating aura.

The only sound that can be heard is Yoongi and Jungkook’s footsteps against the polished wooden floor as they enter. Out of the corner of his eye, Yoongi could see Jungkook’s face turning slightly red, he knew the younger hated being the centre of attention. One day he would have to get over his shyness, however, Jungkook always got the job done when it needed doing and that’s all Yoongi cared about for now.

Yoongi sits down at the head of the table, Jungkook sliding into the chair next to him.

No one dares speak.

Finally Yoongi clears his throat “So is anyone going to tell me what’s going on or are you all just going to sit there?”

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Bucky’s top three kinks would include:

pairing: bucky x reader

requested: yes

warnings: smutty? 

a/n: just thinking about this made me yell. request things here and let me know what you think 

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Fears, Secrets and Bribery

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Request: Anonymous: Can I request a Bucky fic where there is a crazy thunderstorm, and the reader goes to sleep in bucky’s room cause she’s scared of storms. So Bucky being Bucky has a crush on her so he bribes Thor to do more storms so the reader keeps coming back to his room. 

A/N: I’m so sad to see Sebtember officially ending! It’s been so much fun! Thank you guys for being a part of it and all your lovely comments :) enjoy this fluffy little number to see the month out x

Your name: submit What is this?

2am and Bucky was still wide awake. Chasing sleep by listing countries alphabetically. But unlike some of the other residents of the Avengers tower, it wasn’t the thunderous storm outside that had his eyes unable to stay closed for longer than a few seconds. The first month of his rehabilitation, Bucky experienced disturbing nightmares, which, every night, brought new creative terrors and tortures to lurk in the corners of his mind.
Then came the insomnia.
He couldn’t decide which was the lesser form of evil between the two.
Those nightmares contained images of horror he wouldn’t wish on his worst enemies – okay, maybe with the exception of Zola, Alexander Pierce and a few other Hydra brutes – but there were some nights that the desperation with which he craved just a few hours of rest was so strong that he would’ve traded the nightmares for the insanity that came with constant stimulation.

Bucky’s listing streak was interrupted by a particularly violent crash of thunder overhead. Not even a second later, the world outside lit up with a flash of white. Bucky huffed and yanked a pillow out from under his head and smothered it against his face, shoving the ends up against his ears to muffle the racket.

Georgia… Germany… Ghana… Greece…

He was just getting back into the rhythm when another sound broke his concentration. This time, instead of the rolling grey clouds, it came from just outside his bedroom. Feet padding softly across the floor.

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Hello there dear sister….
I would like to ask you a favor. I have a lot of clothes in my closet, but I always feel like I’m missing the staples. The basics. I feel like I need a nice base to choose from and I don’t have it. Would you make a post (or several) about all the basics I need for a well-rounded closet for me to start shopping for? As many as you can think of. You know my closet. You know what I need! Help all of us lacking our wardrobe staples!!!

My sister sent me this message in my Ask box and that rat has been bugging me to answer it, so here you go, Jera!

I decided to list out some basics that every woman should have in her closet or on her shopping list. If you owned nothing but what’s on this list, you’d have great wardrobe options every day for quite a long time. Keep in mind that these are basics and this should not be taken as an exhaustive list. Rather, it’s what my perception of classic, ideal basics should be. I believe that with these items as a base, you can mix in trendier items over time and customize this to your ideal wardrobe for work AND for play.

For those of you who are in college or don’t want to start thinking about work-appropriate clothes yet, let me say that there’s never a bad time to start accumulating great wardrobe basics and you’ll be relieved to have a few items at the ready when your first “real” job or internship comes along.

Feel free to reblog this and bold the items you have!

  • Layering pieces (tanks, v-neck tees, long-sleeve crew neck tees)
  • Camisoles (black, nude, white)
  • Slip (skirt and full-body)
  • Leggings (ankle-length)
  • Cashmere sweater
  • Cableknit sweater or cardigan
  • Cardigans (one neutral, one bright)
  • Two pairs of your favorite denim style (straight, skinny, etc.)
  • One trendy pair (flare, wide-leg, trouser, jeggings)
  • Khakis or khaki-colored trousers
  • Black trousers
  • Gray trousers
  • Turtleneck (one thinner, one more substantial - both in black)
  • White button-down (one structured to tuck in, one slouchier for weekends)
  • Striped long-sleeved shirt
  • Print top/blouse
  • Blazers (one black, one gray or brown)
  • Skirt or pants suit
  • Shorter neutral skirt 
  • Shorter print skirt
  • Longer skirt in wool (fall/winter)
  • Longer skirt in cotton (spring/summer)
  • Sexy LBD
  • Conservative LBD
  • Print dress in work-appropriate style
  • Casual sundress
  • Cocktail/party dress
  • T-shirt dress 
  • Maxi dress
  • Shift dresses (one black, one in a lighter color and linen)
  • Statement jacket/coat
  • Leather or faux-leather jacket (in black)
  • Khaki trenchcoat
  • Warm puffer coat (in black)
  • Puffer vest
  • Wool coat (in camel)
  • Peacoat (solid color)
  • Hooded sweatshirt
  • Athletic/exercise leggings or pants
  • Athletic/exercise top
  • Bikini swimsuit
  • One-piece swimsuit
  • Swimsuit cover-up
  • Sandals (flat and wedge/platform)
  • Classic pumps (black and gray)
  • Flat boots (black and brown)
  • Heeled boots (black)
  • Snow boots
  • Casual shoes (i.e. Converse)
  • Athletic shoes 
  • Rubber flip-flops
  • Ballet flats in black
  • Flats in bold color and/or print (red, leopard, etc.)
  • Wedges (brown)
  • Diamond or faux diamond stud earrings
  • Pearl or faux pearl stud earrings
  • Cocktail ring(s)
  • Costume jewelry (necklaces, earrings, bangles)
  • Gold or silver watch
  • Trendy or bold color watch
  • Structured handbag (i.e. satchel)
  • Slouchy handbag (i.e. hobo)
  • All-purpose tote (i.e. L.L.Bean)
  • Cotton pajamas with separate top and bottom
  • Satin chemise
  • Cotton chemise
  • Knee-length robe (or longer) 

Stiles x Reader

Requested By Anon

“Do you know what she said, she said let Stilinski talk, he knows more than google.” Stiles snapped as he rambled on.

“Stiles you do always correct her.” Scott muttered and adjusted his straps.


“Yeah and I wouldn’t do that if she wasn’t always wrong.” Stiles waved his arms about and glowered at where you were sat reading.


“But she isn’t always wrong that’s what she gets so annoyed about.” Scott smiled at you and let out a sigh as you caught onto what Stiles was saying and slammed your book shut.


Keep reading

What You Do To Me (Part 1)

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Requested by:
Well, @theoneandonlysaucymo and @douchepoolonsie spammed me with a lot of Tom Felton/Draco Malfoy gifs. This is because of them. Good god. You two I swear.

Word Count: ~2700

A little violence? Yeah that’s about right.

A/N: A bit of an AU, just no Dark Lord trying to destroy everything here. I am super happy with this, but nervous as well???? It’s parts now. As I hit over 5,000 words, and wasn’t even done yet??? Yeah, whoops lol I got carried away.

The “what if” Draco Malfoy actually got to be a normal student… well, as normal as you could get for a magical school. What changed for him? He met you.

Originally posted by fallingforamalfoy


  The day you had shown up in his life, Draco Malfoy had just run into the one and only Harry Potter in the school foyer. You were all first years, itching and scared to know what the future held before you. Harry had just given Draco the cold shoulder over that damn Weasley boy, and Draco was absolutely fuming that Potter would blatantly disrespect him. He decided to let his cold grey eyes wander across the crowd behind him.

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Spending the night with Steve would include:

pairing: steve x reader

requested: yes

warnings: literally just fluff

a/n: eh this sort of made me cry also you are welcome to request here

read “spending the night with bucky would include:” here

Keep reading


Pairing: Fred x Reader

Request: lol nup

A/N: I’m literally procrastinating from my requests, also whenever I type “Fred x Reader” i always read it as FedEx Reader like hello I am parcel. I’m also dyslexic.

Squicks: None, but danG this is steamy! (not smut or anything like that just v flirtaay)

Everyone in Gryffindor wants you and Fred to be an item. People always ask you about him, and they always ask him about you. They would try and leave you two alone together, they always make sure you were sat next to each other, and if anything of yours would go missing, guaranteed it’d be on his bed, or in his book bag, or in his trunk. After all the effort your friends were making to get you to fall for him, they’d be pleased to know that their attempts were in fact working, but you weren’t prepared to tell them — or him that.

You really liked Fred. When people would not-so-subtly get you two alone together, you never protested, because you loved being with him.

That night in the common room, you were sat up on the couch writing two feet of parchment for Transfiguration that was due first thing in the morning, with Fred on the other side of the couch reading one of the books you had lent him.

Seeing you scribbling away on your piece of parchment in deep concentration made Fred chuckle, and while he was more than happy to admire your funny and cute little ways when studying, he wanted to have a little fun.

As you finished up the sentence, you went to dip your quill back into the ink, not taking your eyes off your page. Your hand jabbed around trying to find the little pot, before you looked over to see Fred smiling cheekily, tossing the ink pot from one hand to the other.

“Fred, I’m trying to do my work here,” you whine, trying not to smile,

“You’ve been studying for over an hour, I’m helping you,” Fred insisted,

“Helping, are you?” you question, sitting upright, “how exactly are you helping?”

“Well, I don’t want you to break your wrist from all that writing, and also you’re boring when you work,”

“You only think I’m boring when I work because I’m not paying enough attention to you,”

“Exactly, and I’m helping fix that”.

Your face broke out into a smile as you laughed at Fred. You pretended to be in hysterics, when suddenly you lunge towards Fred, trying to catch him off-guard and get your ink back, but it didn’t work. You were almost lying on Fred in an attempt to reach out and grab the bottle that he was now holding up high out of reach.

“Nice try, Y/n, I’m not stupid,”


“Oi,” Fred said with mock annoyance, tapping the glass bottle against your head with a small ‘clunk’ noise,

“Ouch, Fred!” you giggle, “Give me my ink back!”

“Make me,” Fred says suggestively.

Oooooh. This is the moment you had been waiting for.

You looked at Fred with a slightly raised eyebrow and a small smile growing on your lips. You moved your legs so that they were on either side of his and rested your hands on his shoulders. He gave a nervous and surprised look, before your hands slid up to his jaw, pulling his face towards you, and you started to kiss him deeply.

Completely and utterly caught off-guard, Fred hesitated before kissing you back and resting his hands on your hips, pulling you closer towards him, resting the forgotten little ink bottle on the armrest of the couch.

The two of you made out for a few minutes, before your remembered your ulterior motive. You stopped abruptly, taking the ink bottle in your hand and sliding off his lap, back into your spot.

You winked flirtatiously at Fred, before turning back to your essay. Fred sat there frozen still, his eyes wide and his mouth still slightly open, trying to catch his breath. He ran a shaky hand through his hair, trying to process everything. You smiled to yourself, knowing the effect you had on Freddie.

“Now I really don’t want you writing that essay,” Fred spoke finally, scootching closer to you, wrapping an arm around you.

“And I really don’t want to fail Transfiguration,” you smile cheekily at him,

“Have a quick little break then,”

“It’s getting rather late, Fred,”

“You know you want to,”

“That’s not the point,”

“It’s entirely the point,”

You sigh loudly, giving in and turning to look at Fred, whose eyes locked with yours and were pulling you in,

“Look, Y/n, it’s clear that you’re not getting any more Transfig work done tonight because you’re crazy about me,”

“Get over yourself, Weasley,”

“Admit it then,”

And all you had to say was two words:

“Make me”.


Hello. We had a baby a few months ago. Do you have any suggestions for books about keeping the marriage on track after a baby? Also, can you keep the name anonymous? My husband is very private. Thanks!!

I wish I had more for you. I wish I could list 10 books that helped but I can’t. I can give you just one really good recommendation: All Joy and No Fun by Jennifer Senior. (My review is here.) The portions about why couples can fracture post-baby was the first time I read anything that mirrored my own feelings and experiences. 

(I’m going to go off on a tangent here for a second so feel free to skip.)

  1. I’m always careful to toe the line between privacy and openness here on my blog and this post is no exception. Marriage dynamics post-baby are very tricky. I think that’s why no one talks about it. Well, almost no one. You see a million “DH is a deadbeat, I’m divorcing him tomorrow!!!!” posts on mom message boards (Babycenter, ahem). But if you look to other online communities–Instagram, Facebook, whatever–you’ll hardly ever see anyone write anything of substance about marriage post-baby. And you’ll never, ever see a prominent mom blogger discuss it unless they mention it briefly and then tritely wrap it up with how they are still so in love, and the partner is so supportive. Somehow protecting a brand is synonymous with perfect marital happiness. Other difficult, private things can be discussed, but the marriage relationship must never be examined thoughtfully. The result of this is a lot of women that look they are in perfect marriages with perfect guys that do perfect things to support their perfect home and perfect clothes and perfect meals. I used to read these blogs and go I HAVEN’T SHOWERED IN 5 DAYS HOW CAN YOU MAINTAIN THIS FLAWLESS FACADE. And I still don’t know how they do it. I don’t. 
  2. However, I’ve determined that there may be a “type” of marriage that can navigate the first year of the first child with a minimum of external tension. That marriage is a more traditional one. In a heterosexual partnership that adheres to traditional gender roles PRE-BABY, there is already an expectation that the male will do traditionally male things and the female will do traditionally female things. And post-baby, the traditionally female things will include the bulk of childcare. (Maybe all the childcare.) It probably also includes cooking, cleaning, organizing, doctor’s appointments, shopping. It may also include bills and finances. In this case, in this more traditional marriage, there is a clear expectation of what is expected from both parties long before the baby is born. Therefore, it’s no big surprise when baby arrives and Mom assumes the bulk of childcare. Dad is comfortable with his role, Mom is comfortable in her role. Tension is minimal because the expectations of child-rearing have been established for a long time. Maybe since the couple met. 
  3. So where does that leave other partnerships or marriages? In our case, my husband and I both worked full-time. We evenly split household duties, chores and responsibilities. How post-modern of us! How progressive! 
  4. But, holy shit, when Isobel was born, it’s like the world was turned completely upside down. I think Brandon expected to assume more of the childcare than he could do or that I would let him do. (That last one is key.) For my side, I expected him to anticipate and complete every single possible task that could be related to childcare on any given day. (DOESN’T HE KNOW THE BABY NEEDS A BATH) Then, I’d want to do those tasks myself anyway because I could do them faster, better. I was angry at myself for not giving him more space to carve out a place in the household and I was angry at him for not insisting on it. We were both frustrated at the traditional marriage/gender roles that we slipped into, almost immediately. 
  5. There are some extraneous things that really affect the way this plays out. Maternity/paternity leaves, for example. Brandon used vacation time to take almost two weeks off. I took a very short maternity leave and then juggled baby and full-time work from home until she was about 12 months old. Two weeks wasn’t enough time for dad to grow accustomed to the schedule and rigor of newborn care. Additionally, it’s difficult for Dad to wrap his brain around helping with a 3 am feeding when he’s got to be up at 6 am for a 12 hour work day. If we had started Isobel in daycare when she was an infant (which I would absolutely do if we ever had a second child), I think that could have helped with some of the issues that arose. I was trying to be a hero to too many people and I ended up being nothing but a failure to myself.  
  6. Another thing that really contributed to the traditional gender role tension–and is something that I almost never see discussed–is the way that breastfeeding changes the childcare dynamic. I breastfed for about 8 months (though I was only nursing in the morning and before bed by the last few weeks). I would breastfeed again. But fuck, I wish someone had told me what to expect. I don’t know what I was thinking, but for some reason my brain did not process the fact that I would be assuming the bulk of the night wakings and feedings. I had intermittent trouble with my supply and struggled to stash enough away for bottle feedings at night (which Brandon could have helped with). I also waited a long time to give a bottle in general. It was just long enough for both of us to have accepted that if the baby cried at night, I would go. And frankly, I was so highly attuned to the crying, that even if he’d helped, I would have had trouble going back to sleep. It was a very fragile, sensitive time for me. I had difficulty sleeping, difficulty waking, difficulty moving through my day. It was a fog. Anyway, my advice to moms who are breastfeeding or planning to breastfeed is that they establish ahead of time a list of tasks that the partner can accomplish since they may not be taking the night shift much at all. This could include: Making breakfast, keeping on top of the laundry, 15-20 minutes for Mom in the morning to shower, running errands for Mom before or after work (or during lunch break). If you are able to stash enough breast milk so dad can assist with a bottle at night, get earplugs, use an eye mask and kick him out of bed to do go it. Every single night. That might get you an extra 2-3 hours of sleep per night. That is A LOT. These are all things I wish I’d thought about before giving birth, because by the time the issues were actually happening, we were both too tired and overwhelmed to make logical, helpful decisions in ways that would have been beneficial to us both.  
  7. It was really difficult for me to ask Brandon for help. It was difficult for him to ask what I needed help with. This stalemated the situation and created a vicious cycle of inactivity and resentment and echoed a lot of what I read in All Joy and No Fun too. We both just wanted a few minutes to ourselves. The difference was that I felt I had to ask permission or ask for assistance in order to take that time. Ugh, it’s a mess, huh? I noticed that I sometimes thought of Brandon more like a babysitter (“Can you watch Isobel for 30 minutes so I can go get a pedicure?”) instead of my husband and her father (“I’m going to go get a pedicure, there is a bottle in the fridge, Bye!”). This was frustrating for Brandon too. When we look back on this time, we’re both irritated by how little we communicated about our frustrations and how easily we slipped into tired cliches. (They’re cliches for a reason, I guess.) He didn’t like that I would be like, “Are you sure you’re okay to watch her while I go to the grocery store for 10 minutes?” He’d think, well, she must not trust me to be a very good dad! And I’m thinking to myself, I wish he’d noticed we needed groceries! Finding a way to reconcile the way we used to split household responsibilities with all the new childcare responsibilities was challenging. 
  8. I don’t have a magical piece of advice that can string all of this together. But what I can tell you is that although I don’t know the specifics of your situation, I can sympathize with your general question. I’ve been there. We’ve been there. It was difficult for us to translate an equal marriage (in terms of us having a dual-income household that we held equal responsibility for) into equal parenting. The silver lining here is that once we pushed through the difficult months and sat down to discuss our individual issues, our relationship improved. A lot. We felt stronger and happier for having had to navigate through this major life change together
  9. I hope you’re still reading given that I kind of blacked out and just typed 10 paragraphs. :/ 
  10. You’ve got this. Now go for a pedicure! 

Derek x Reader

Requested by @g0back2bed

“Derek what’re you doing?” You sighed and he glanced up at you.


“Putting a banister across the window.” Derek muttered as he finished drilling it into the wall.


“Why?” You giggled as you inspected the new, non-metal table, which was all but wrapped in baby proofing. “Is this about baby proofing, Derek we can only just hear the heart beat!”


“Have you seen this place, what if they bump into something or…” Derek trailed off when you rolled your eyes and stroked a hand through his hair.


Keep reading

That’s how it works

Draco x Reader

Requested?: Nope, feel free to request whenever you want, I’m writing from a blank slate here >_<;;

Word Count:

Summery: The reader, a Ilvermorny transfer student, is at Hogsmeade for the first time and everything she likes is way too expensive, but she stays quiet about it until someone gives her a bag in the three broomsticks……

Originally posted by lightningboltgraced-blog

Hogsmeade, a place some people call home, and others who call it a school getaway. I was currently one of those people who called it a getaway, but I probably wasn’t enjoying it as much as I should’ve. Everybody else had their little groups/cliques that they hung out with while they were shopping, giggling at each others red noses and snow filled hair, arms heavy as they carried their large goody bags filled with sweets or mischievous treats they could use once they returned to their daily classes.

But this was my first year here. I had little money in my pocket and no bags to weigh me down, but every time I passed a store my eyes were wide, wishing that every price tag could magically change into something a little more my budget. But I knew that that was never going to happen, so I rubbed my nose, held my breath, kept my head down, and walked out of the store.

I managed to find myself a small little corner to sit at in a place called the three broomsticks, which didn’t have many students, just a large guy and some other adults littered the place. So I could easily relax here.

“Anything special you want hun’?” A lady asked, her heeled shoes clacking against the wooden floor as she walked over to me.

Opening my mouth to reply, I was cut off by a voice behind me.

“One Butterbeer please.”

The girl’s eyes widened as she nodded and practically dashed back behind the counter, her eyes never leaving her hands. Who could scare her that badly?

Turning around in my seat I see a boy with silvery grey eyes and hair like frost, a red nose and cheeks contrasting with his pale skin. Draco. I would be stupid not to know him. Everybody knows him.

He walks over and takes a seat beside me, setting the bag that I hadn’t noticed in his hand on the table in front of me. Even though it was a pretty large bag it looked completely filled.

He kept his gaze on the bag, ignoring my confused gaze in his direction.

Finally, he speaks.

“This is stupid I don’t even know why I did this. Just take the stupid bag, it’s for you, everything you looked at or touched I bought for you. Have fun.” He pushed backwards on his seat, shooting out of the chair as if it would kill him if he sat on it for another second.

“Wait!” I tried to grab a hold of his wrist, but he jerked his arm towards him as if my touch had somehow burned him.

“What do you want Y/n? I thought this was simple. I give you the bag, you leave me alone. I give you the bag, I stop thinking about you. I give you the bag, and I don’t have to worry about feelings anymore. That’s how it works. Goodbye.”

And he left.

Currently thinking about Part 2 and how it should go……

Well anyway, Don’t be a silent reader! Comment, Heart, Request imagines, any of those would be amazing!

But you don’t have to if you don’t want to don’t worry….>_<;;

Hehe, Hope you enjoyed ^-^

What You Do To Me (Part 2)

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Requested by: Well, @theoneandonlysaucymo and @douchepoolonsie spammed me with a lot of Tom Felton/Draco Malfoy gifs. This is because of them. Good god. You two I swear.

Word Count: ~3300

Warning: Just super fluffy, jealousy. Teenage hormones, man.

A/N: A bit of an AU, just no Dark Lord trying to destroy everything here. CUTE STUFF. Part 3 will be fun too!! And will probably be the last part unless you guys have some ideas :P (picture of the dress is linked in the words if you wanna see it. ITS SUPER PRETTY)

The “what if” Draco Malfoy actually got to be a normal student… well, as normal as you could get for a magical school. What changed for him? He met you.

Originally posted by legendrarrymalfoy

Other Parts: (Part 1)


You spent a month worth’s of detention cleaning up the library from punching Draco in the face, and you did your time without one complaint. No one blamed you for punching him amongst your housemates, despite losing 20 points because of it. Fred and George even joked around saying you should have earned 20 points for the right hook you gave Malfoy.

As if your time in detention wasn’t bad enough, every afternoon after classes while you were doing your duty, Malfoy was trying to come in and talk to you. You’d completely ignore him, not making eye contact with him at all. What Hermione told you ran through your head, and you just couldn’t bare to look at him when he thought of you that way as well; even if he didn’t know.

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You’re an Animal

1,000 Followers Drabble

Prompt: “She sounded like a chipmunk in heat.“

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Requested by: @sis-tafics

“Omg…did you hear that last night?” You say as Sam comes in from his morning run.

“Holy shit. What was that?!” He says grabbing a water from the fridge.

“Dean’s flavor of the week.” You say rolling your eyes.

“I thought maybe someone was watching the animal channel really loud…” Sam says making you both crack up.

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No Boys!

Pairing: Fred x Reader

Request: SO I HAVE THIS IDEA because the girl’s dormitories have this spell on them saying “As the founders considered boys to be less trustworthy they put a spell on the stairwell to prevent boys from entering that caused the stairs to turn into a slide“ and i thought that would be really cute if fred and george tried to find a way to sneak in! love your writing!!

A/N: Sorry for being away for so long, I’ll try and be more active! I’ve had major Fred and George feels of late… Do any of you guys sometimes have Fred days and George days?? because some days I’m like ‘yeah George would be so sweet and cute and maybe a little shy when talking to Y/n’ but some days I’m like ‘yeS Fred would be so outgoing and flirty and stuff to her’ and idk some days I’m in a Fred mood and some days I am in a George mood can anyone relate whatsoever? ramble over, enjoy the story folks

Squicks: None

“Why are boys less trustworthy anyway?” Fred asks with his arms crossed. Angelina and Katie had just walked into the boy’s dormitory to talk to Oliver, as well as Hermione having a deep discussion with Harry and Ron.

“They can all come into our dorms, but we can’t go into theirs, what’s up with that?” Fred adds.

“What does it matter? If they’re always coming in here, then why would we need to go in there?” George asks as Fay Dunbar also walked into the room.

“Because, Georgie, that isn’t the point,” Fred tuts. Before he could continue supporting his argument, Ginny walked in as well,

“Merlin, not you too!” Fred exclaims, throwing his arms up in the air and earning a strange look from Ginny,

“What’s his problem now?” Ginny asks in a bored tone to George,

“He’s debating the flaws in this school’s feminism and how we as men don’t have the same rights as women,” George replies, not looking up from his book.

“Why can’t boys go into the girl’s dorms anyway?” Fred argues,

“Because boys mess up things,” Ginny responds, “we’ve got everything in our dorms where they should be, whereas if we were to mess up anything in here I’d say it wouldn’t make much of a difference” she continues, looking around the cluttered and unorganised room,

“Still… I think we should be just as entitled to go into your dorms as much as you lot come into ours,” Fred grumbles.

“Who do you want to see in there anyway?” Ginny asks with a sly smile, getting George to join back into the conversation,

“That’s a good point actually, what do you want to go in there for anyway?”

“It’s not to see anyone,” Fred objects defensively, “it’s about the principles and equality, I personally stand for equal rights between the sexes, and I also happen to believe—“

“You want to go in and see Y/n don’t you,” Ginny says matter-of-factly.

“Ah yeah, the (h/c) girl, that’d be right,” George agrees,

“Shut up, that’s not why I want to go in there, and I don’t want to go in there anyway, it’s probably all tidy and pink and smelling like flowers or whatever you girls spray in there,”

“I’m sure she wouldn’t mind seeing you either,” Ginny says as if Fred hadn’t even opened his mouth,

“I bet she would, we’re going to have to come up with a loophole to get you in there, ay Freddie?” George says, nudging his brother with his elbow.

“Look, I’m as keen to break the school rules as the next guy, but I am not doing this just to see Y/n, alright?”


It had been about a full week and somehow the rule-breaking masterminds of Hogwarts were unable to figure a way around the darn ‘no boys’ rule.

“So let’s go over it again,” George says for maybe the fourth time, “when a guy tries to enter the girl’s dorm, the—“

“Stairs turn into a slide and you fall down, yes we know we’ve tried,” Fred says, resting his head in his hand and playing with his food.

“We tried going in with Ginny and it still didn’t work…” George continues,

“And we tried Polyjuice Potion, but that bloody backfired…” Fred adds, shuddering.

“There’s no gender changing potions or spells, are there?” George thinks,

“Unlikely, and even if it was, I don’t think I’d be too up for it,” Fred says, “We want to go in there as males anyway, so there’s be no point in that,”

“Thank goodness, you’re both still alive,” Y/n says as she sits in the middle of the two boys,

“Why wouldn’t we be?” George asked confusedly, while Fred sits there silently, keeping his eyes on Y/n.

“Well it’s been so quiet around here all week with no pranks, I was beginning to wonder what happened to you two,” Y/n teases.

“We’re trying to hatch a master plan,” George says, looking out the window,

“Ah, that sounds about right,” Y/n giggles, “What’re you trying to do?” she says as she looks at Fred.

“Oh, right, we’re trying to find a way to get into the girls dormitory… Strictly for equality purposes only, you know, for men’s rights and… equality,” Fred rambles, causing Y/n to laugh,

“And here I was thinking you two were just wanting to drop in to say hello,” She smiles,

“Well, maybe that too,” Fred smiles back.

“So,” George interrupts, “We are trying to find a loophole in the rule, or a way of getting in”.

“Well it’s obvious, isn’t it?” Y/n says, earning a confused look from the twins, “just don’t go in through the door,”

“Ah yes, great idea, Y/n, why didn’t we think of that Freddie!” George says sarcastically, “We’ll just jump up seven stories into their window—“

“Or fly up…” Fred says, eyes widening as he finally understands,

“You’re both in the Quidditch team, with your own brooms, how did you not think of this earlier?” Y/n chuckles,

“We’re idiots,” George says, looking over at Fred before putting his head in his hands with shame.

“You’re a genius,” Fred says, smiling at the girl,

“You two just try to make things too complicated,” she laughs, “Hopefully I’ll see you tonight in the girl’s dorm if this plan all works out,” she says to them both, but possibly more directed at Fred.

— — That night — —

“Ready Fred?”

“Ready George,”

The twins had managed to sneak past Filch and Mrs. Norris, so that they were now on the frosty grass outside of the castle, almost directly under Gryffindor Tower.




They pushed off the ground and flew into the night’s sky, soaring upwards with the crisp air freezing their skin.

“There it is, Georgie, let’s hope this works!”

— —

Meanwhile, Y/n was sitting up in bed reading, while girls walked in and out of the dorm doing who know’s what. Y/n was waiting, hoping, for Fred and his brother to come to the window, so she could spend just a little more time with Fred. Y/n, of course, fancied Fred, and had no idea about how he felt towards her. She liked the way that he always had time for fun, even with the huge load of schoolwork they received. She loved the way that he and his brother would always come up with new and exciting tricks to do on the teachers and students. She loved how he would always have the best snarky comments to say back to someone, and always being able to make her laugh. The way his eyes sparked when he spoke about something he was passionate about was another one of her favourite things about him. She loved how—

*tap tap*

Y/n’s head snapped around to the window, to see Fred and George Weasley outside the window on their brooms, teeth chattering in the cold air.

She got up straight away to open the window, to which they flew inside and landed on the floor.

“WE DID IT!” they both cheered, high-fiving each other.

George looked around at the little circular room, taking in all of the tidiness, makeup and posters of attractive Quidditch platers above the beds, and was honestly not as impressed with the room as he thought he would be.

Fred, however, was extremely impressed with the view, as he was looking straight at Y/n.

“You did it, Fred!” She beamed as she pulled Fred in for a hug.

“Yeah, it was worth it I reckon,” he smiles.

“What, really? Our dorm isn’t really much different from yours,” she replies,

“I’m not talking about the dorm, Y/n,” Fred says, still holding Y/n in his arms. As she looked up at him, he bent his head down and kissed her on the lips. George hollered while the few girls still in the room cheered, with Ginny simply saying ‘called it’.

They both puled away from each other, their cheeks both a little pink (to which Fred claimed that the only reason his were red was from the cold outside, adding that Y/n had no excuse other than the fact that he was so incredibly sexy).

“Well now that you’ve found a way into the girl’s dorm, will I be seeing more of you in here?” Y/n asked with a smile,

“It’d be so much easier if you just came into ours, but I may make the exception for you on occasions,” Fred said, kissing her again.

One, Two, Three, Four

I got this question today:

Could you post this anon? I am writing because I’m curious (if you’re willing to talk about it) if you knew from the beginning that Iz would be your only child. If so, how did you come to that? Most days I feel like that will likely be the choice we make too, but I’m always curious how other people get to that place. I always thought we’d have two. Or more. But time. Money. Emotional fortitude. It’s a lot. I’d love your insight. xo

I have no insight.

I have nothing except questions and what-ifs and thoughts that creep up in the night as I’m lying in bed. I think about it at the grocery store when I see siblings fighting and I think about it at the park when I see siblings playing together. I think and I do more thinking. I think I know how I feel and I know that I’m unlikely to change my mind, but still. The thought is there

I actually almost wrote a post about this last week but I changed my mind about posting it at the last second because I was getting frustrated about my ability to verbalize my very complex, very uncertain feelings about a topic that I know a lot of people feel strongly about. I hardly ever shy away from posting things that I know people will feel strongly about, but this is so personal and real to me, to Brandon, to Isobel. And although having or not having another child is a family decision, I can’t ignore how strongly this falls at my feet and my feet alone. This complex, nuanced, larger-than-life decision falls to me and my uterus–and this isn’t even taking into account whether we might have difficulty conceiving. 

Yet, even though I’ve just said that I’m having a hard time finding clarity on this, I do know deep down what is right for right now. That’s hard to admit, since so much of child-rearing and parenting means sacrificing all for the sake of the child(ren). We are in a place culturally that requires parents to weigh so many potential decisions by the impact they could or will have on their children. We move to different cities so they can go to better schools. We change our budgets so they can go to summer camp. We alter our work hours so they can attend the best extracurricular activities. Even pregnancy (and childbirth) are overwhelmingly outcome-oriented with relatively little attention or honest discussion paid to the mental, physical and emotional health of the mother. (Well, except for when she is watched carefully to see that she passes her glucose test and is within the weight guidelines her doctor specifies.) In this prism, having one child is confusing. As someone with a sibling, even I am unsure how to navigate it. (I used to say, “I don’t really want kids, but if I do, I want at least two. Maybe four.” Maybe four! That came out of the mouth of someone that didn’t know anything.) Anyway, I get why having one child is still somewhat uncommon and why people have strong feelings about it. Having multiple children implies companionship, camaraderie, success, completion. I think that’s what I must have thought back when I believed having four children might be a good idea for me.

You mentioned time, money and emotional fortitude as concerns for having another child. These are very important factors. Money especially. I have been told many times that “you always find the money.” And yes, perhaps. Maybe you do. But the thought of spending over $3,000 a month on daycare makes me ill. Staying home and choosing not to work? That’s not even on the table. Work is, for me, a non-negotiable. I will work. I will always work. 

So–emotional fortitude. That’s a concern too. I view the first year (or so) of Isobel’s life through as realistic a lens as I can, seeing as there is such a veil of nostalgia and contentment that has grown over the more difficult and frustrating memories. The further I get away from them, the less clear they are. And it is vital that I do not forget. It is vital to my emotional and mental health, to my marriage, and to my ability to parent Isobel the best I can. I have struggled with mental health issues–depression, Seasonal Affective Disorder–on and off for years. I have been medicated, though I am not currently. I freely admit that I am unsure whether I have the strength to do it again. If you have ever taken medication for depression, you will know that (most of the time) it does help. But, for me, it also numbs. It numbs everything, including the way I feel about the people I love. On medication, I am not sleeping 18 hours a day, but when I am hugged, I feel nothing. So I am scared to wake the sleeping giant. I am frightened of the unknown about myself. How far can I go? How far would I go? I’m not sure. But the risk is there and it is real. I am not alone in a vacuum with this, either. I have a daughter that depends on me. I have a child. And we are so happy right now. So very happy. She hugs me and says she loves me and I feel a warmth, a deep, painful love that I have never before experienced. It is a beautiful thing that I have to cherish and keep safe. And so, you see why I must think about these things. 

But I still don’t know the answer. I don’t know the final answer, anyway. I think I probably know, but I am young and there are unknowns. 

For now, as we walk to the park as a family, the three of us, I feel that we may be complete. My daughter! She is so independent, so feisty, so funny. When I look at her, I do not see the hazy outline of another standing beside her. I can’t fathom it. It doesn’t make sense. It may not ever make sense. For now, I see only her. Friends who were pregnant around the same time as me are having second children. I think, “How nice,” but I know that I do not yearn or desire or need that yet. 

Isobel is so many wonderful, frustrating, indescribably beautiful things to me, but mostly she is enough. I think about all the things I want to do for her and do with her. I can give her those. We can give her those. That is enough for now. 

Steve’s top three kinks would include:

pairing: steve x reader

requested: yeah, like 50 million times

warnings: smutty smut smut

a/n: request things here and let me know what you think

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Training Mishaps

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Request: anonymous asked: could you maybe do a bucky x reader where he accidently hurts her during training or something and he gets super worried but she just finds it hilarious? fluffy please!

Word Count: 1218

A/N: I’m so sorry this took so long to write. I haven’t been particularly well over the past couple of weeks, but hopefully I’ll start getting into the swing of things again.

For any of you that read my series Neighbours, I’d like to say I’m discontinuing that for just now as I don’t really know where to go with it (and it’s losing notes but whatever)

Want to request something? Just send me an ask! :)

Masterlist (mobile friendly here!)

You always loved the days where you’d get to train with just Bucky. Most days they’d get 3 or 4 of you in a session together, but when they had missions, you and Bucky would train alone together.

You grabbed your gear and headed to the training room they had at the facility, grabbing a couple bottles of water on your way there. Bucky was already there; he liked getting there earlier to warm up and work out with some of the weights beforehand. Which was a bonus for you as he’d already be glistening by the time you got there.

“Hey,” you said as you walked through into the room, trying not to stare at Bucky as he finished with the weights.

“You’re late,” he walked towards you, wiping his sweat off with a towel.

“I’m not late,” you frowned, placing your bag in the corner and handed him a bottle of water.

“I said 11am, it’s 11:04,” Bucky clicked his tongue in disapproval, you rolled your eyes at him.

“Shit, you’re right; I’m so late.” Bucky detected your sarcasm and huffed, turning back to stand in the centre of the room. “What are we doing today anyway?” You asked, taking a gulp of water before throwing the bottle on top of your bag and walking to Bucky.

“Sparring? I can train you how to use a knife properly if you want.” He grabbed a plastic one from his pocket and flipped it around in his hand, not breaking eye contact with you.

“As much as I love knife acrobatics,” Bucky glared at you as you mocked his knife art, “I haven’t sparred properly in a while.”

“You just want to get close to me,” he winked as he pulled off his shirt, which had been sticking to his body from the sweat. You tried to act like you hadn’t noticed, though.

“Watch it, Barnes.” You positioned yourself into fighting stance.

“Or what, doll? You can’t beat me.” Bucky relaxed his face, trying to coax you into dropping your guard which hadn’t even been up for 20 seconds.

You swung at him, high, he dodged as you expected. He gave you a look of “you can do better,” and opened his mouth but before he could get a word out, you kicked him in the ribs and he buckled. Getting up quickly, Bucky mumbled something unintelligible while shooting you a devious look. You shrugged and got on with it. A few punches here, a few kicks there, the two of you worked up a sweat very easily.

“You’re getting better, you know,” Bucky said between his panting breaths. “I didn’t think you’d do this well this quickly.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” The two of you had stopped, for now, so you went to grab your water once more.

“You’ve only been here a few months; I thought you’d be terrible.” H    e laughed and gulped down half the water he had.

“Gee, thanks, Bucky.” You said sarcastically before stretching and moving back to the centre of the room.

He smirked at you. “You want to go again?”

“Unless you’re getting tired, Barnes. I know those old bones get to you sometimes.” You smiled, his eyes lighting up at the sight.

“That’s cold. I won’t go easy on your this time.” Bucky flexed his metal arm before swinging at you, shocked that you dodged his fist.

“You need to try harder than that,” you laughed as he swung at you multiple times more but you ducked and swiftly stepped back so that he missed.

Except for the last one; Bucky hit you right in the jaw and you collapsed to the ground.

“Shit, [Y/N], are you okay? I’m so sorry.” Bucky frantically knelt to the ground, scooping you up in his arms trying to check if he had hurt you.

“Nice one.” You laughed, moving your hand up to feel your jaw; it didn’t hurt much but the force of it stunned you.

“[Y/N], I hit you in the face and you’re laughing about it?” He was puzzled.

“Yes.” You sat up out from his embrace. “Did you think you could actually hurt me, anyway?”

“This is serious, you could have broken something, let me check.”

“Bucky, really? You think they’d let me train with you - alone - if I could get hurt by you? It was more like a 5-year-old whacking me with one of their dolls.” You giggled at the thought. “No, wait - that would hurt more.”

He pursed his lips, in anger or frustration, you didn’t know.

“I don’t think you realise this, but you’re always more gentle with me than you are with the other Avengers. Touch as light as a feather, even when you’re trying your hardest.”


“You’re more like a stupid puppy than a trained assassin.”

“Why are we friends?” Bucky mumbled as he stood up.

“Hey! I’m great, I know you think so.” You stood, poking him in his flesh shoulder.

He turned to you, he was a good few inches taller than you, forcing you to look up at him. You could feel the heat radiate off of him, he was that close.

“You think I like you?” Bucky asked, almost worried.

“Well, I didn’t say that. But if you wanna admit something, now’s the time.”

He hesitated, opening his mouth but not saying anything. His eyes moved around your face, mapping it, almost as if he’d never seen it before. The steady rise and fall of his chest was now ragged, unsynchronised. He leant down and kissed you, his lips trembling against yours. You’d think with how confident Bucky tried to be all the time, this is something he’d have no problem with. However, he found himself stuck like he’d never kissed anyone in his life. You kissed back, moving your hand to his hair, helping him ease into it. He relaxed, pulling you closer you his body, cupping a hand around your cheek, the other around your back. You were so lost in the moment, you barely noticed the clearing of a throat from the other side of the room. Bucky pulled away quickly.

“I see you’re training Bucky in other aspects,” Steve said from the doorway. “We’re back, by the way. But if you want to continue, go ahead.”

“Well, I- uh,” Bucky stuttered, embarrassed by Steve finding him like this. You giggled at him, causing him to look down at you almost angrily until he noticed something. “You’re bruised.”

“I am?” You felt your jaw and right enough, there was a tinge of pain from where his fist had landed not ten minutes ago. “I guess you’ll just have to kiss it better then.”

Steve rolled his eyes at the two of you and left before Bucky even got the chance to lean down and kiss your jawline.

“Remind me why I waited months for that?” He asked you, rubbing his thumb over the bruise.

“Because deep down under that calloused exterior, you’re just a dork. A cute dork, though, don’t worry about it.”

“I’m pretty sure the metal arm contradicts all of what you just said, but whatever you say.” He smirked and leant down to grab his shirt off of the floor.

“Fine. A very angry, beefy dork. Better?”


Tagging: @23aprliee @pretentiousaf @shamvictoria11 @pickylittlebitch @sebastianstanismyobsession @infinity1321 @woahstan @avahodge @sebstan01 @publicities @rebekastan98 @nalatheblacklion @selfproclaimedmess @bossasswitchx @whatev-dont-care @agentkenziecaptainamerica @siobhanrebecca @pancakes-at-twelve @dancingthroughthebooks @luisabroniecki @kristiekurisuti @sebbysebbastan

Spider-Boy (Peter Parker x Reader)

Peter Parker x Reader

Request: “Can you do a peter parker imagine where he comes back from the airport fight in civil war and the reader bandages him up and it turns smutty?”(@fvckallthefandoms )

Words: 1441

Warnings: Smut, Oral, mild language? I think that’s it?

A/N: Sorry I changed the request a bit, but I couldn’t find the way to write it like that Also, Peter is at least the age of consent in whichever country you’re from :)

I paced back and forth in my room, anxiously biting my nails as I waited for my best friend Peter to come back. He’d been away fighting with the Avengers, and he had promised to swing by my room as soon as he was done there. Literally.
I discoverer that Peter Parker was Spider-Man a few months ago when I started to get suspicious of the injuries he sustained almost every day. I had turned up unexpectedly at his house and of course May let me straight into Pete’s room. As I flung the door open I had yelled in surprise to find Spider-Man lying in Peter’s bed. “I knew it!” I’d said as he tried to deny the fact he was Spider-Man.(To no avail.)
I gave up my restless pacing and collapsed face first onto my bed with a sigh. He’d said he’d be back within an hour or two, but it was already 10'o'clock at night. After a moment, I raised my head to check the time and my heart almost stopped. I leapt back with a scream and fell inelegantly off the bed, landing sprawled on the carpet. Huffing angrily, I stood up as the person in my room creased with laughter. “Peter! It’s not funny! You almost gave me a heart attack!”
Pete pulled off his mask and walked over to sit on my bed, still laughing. “I’m sorry, Y/N. But you should have seen your face!”
“Shut it, Spider-Boy.” I grumbled as I sat next to him, faking still being angry with him.
“I missed you.” Pete said, sidling up yo my side and slinging an arm around my shoulder with a smile.
“I missed you too, ya doofus.” I replied and gave in, shooting him a grin.

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