i was in sunday school and the nun said i had to cut my hair so i pointed at the statue of jesus being crucified and said he had long hair, and they called my mom to let her know i wasnt allowed back anymore or ever again
WARNINGS: slight swearing and lots of fluff and a frustrated Steve!
Request from Anon: Hi if you wouldn’t mind, I have an idea. Tony hosts some kind of fundraiser ball or formal event, and the reader is kinda like date but platonically, and Steve gets really jealous bc he thinks reader and Tony are together? But then they have a cute dance and get close at the after party? If you want to make it fluffy or smutty it’s up to you. Btw your work is amazing it’s honestly my favourite x
This was such a cute request, I leaned more to the fluffy side as it’s been too hot today for my brain to try and write anything smutty as that has been the last thing I’ve wanted to think/do today! (lowkey Australian weather can kiss my ass ugh) Anyway I hope you enjoy this! Also Happy Birthday Stan Lee !!
GIF NOT MINE (good lord it took me so long to find this gif holy shit)
“(Y/N), I need your help” the sudden loud and brash voice of Tony nearly made you jump nine feet into the air. If it wasn’t for you working alongside Tony Stark for a number of years now you were sure that your heart would be beating a mile a minute. But fortunately for your nerves you had grown accustomed to Tony sudden and sometimes volatile behavior.
“What is it now Tony, please tell me there isn’t some PR mess you’ve created for me” You signed your fingers still tapped rhythmically on the keyboard.
“Nope I only make those on the last Thursdays of the month” you gave Tony a dry look over your computer screen as he flopped down on the chair opposite your desk.
“Seriously what do you want Tony?” the annoyance in your voice went unnoticed by the billionaire.
“I’m throwing a party” he shrugged.
“When aren’t you throwing a party” you rolled your eyes.
“Might as well enjoy it! I never have time to eat anyway ^^”
Owwww my boobs are sore:
“My period is coming~ ugh”
Tries to rationalize:
“I know our method wasnt the safest, but we were on time with everything”
/sits and watches teen mom/ 16 & pregnant/:
“I feel so sorry for these girls~ this will never be me~ ahaha”
/hears something thats sounds EXACTLY like what im going through/:
me: there’s no way im pregnant… not possible…. okay possible, but not to me…“
Goes to google:
"oh my god im pregnant. No. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!”
/starts thinking about my life/:
“I was only a sophmore in college. I’m almost finished…. what am i going to do about school… my mom is going to murder me… where can i find a job..what will their father say… where am i going to live? what what what what what what..”
“I can just take a pregnancy test! fucking duh!”
/takes pregnancy test/:
“OMG YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS. NO BABAYS. NO SMALL SOCK. I CAN BUY A NEW VIDEO GAME. KEEP ALL MY MONEY. MINE MIENIENIMIENINEINMEINEIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE”
/still has irrational fear of being pregnant/:
“Sometimes those test are wrong… oh my god…”
/waiting for my period/:
“please hurry the fuck up…. omg”
/finally gets my period. A DAY EARLY/:
“OMG THANK GOD. MOTHER NATURE YOU ARE ONE COLD SON OF A BITCH. BUT HEAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY”
Easter is a little tricky in my books… I used to have a part very coordinated and obsessed by religion and since she merged/ integrated, whatever you want to call it, I’ve taken on a lot of that anxiety. Easter Sunday, a nun once told me, is the most important day of the catholic calendar, and if you miss church every day of the year every year you’re still a devoted catholic if you go on every Easter Sunday. Because of this, I’ve inherited a disproportionate worry about somehow missing church on Easter Sunday, being way laid, I’ve even had intrusive thoughts while walking there that I might trip on the pavement and crack my skull or be hit by a speeding car and be rushed to hospital. It’s a big worry and I am finding it very very hard to sleep because of it (or someone is).
Every time I think I’m asleep I come around to find someone has turned the light on, sat up and got the phone from the sideboard and is checking the alarm clock is set, double checking, adding extra alarms in case >.
On Sunday, three nuns from Nyack, N.Y., walked into Hi Tor Animal Care Center with one intention: to adopt a dog that no one else wanted.
When the women met Remy, a 9-year-old pit bull who’d been at the shelter in Pomona, N.Y., since October, they knew she was the animal for them.
“I wanted to bring a dog home that might get euthanized if we didn’t take her,” Sister Veronica Mendez told News 12. “And when I noticed the sign said ‘9 years,’ I said, 'Virginia, we want this one, because nobody else is going to want her.’”
West Artope, executive director at Hi Tor, told The Huffington Post that he was surprised that the nuns – all over 70 years old – weren’t deterred by the thought of owning a pit bull.
“Most people have a pretty bad understanding of pits,” Artope told HuffPost. “But Remy was sensitive to the sisters, especially to Sister Virginia, who walks with a cane. She kept up with her and was so attentive.”
Pope Francis declared Mother
Teresa a saint on Sunday, praising the tiny nun for having taken in
society’s most unwanted and for having shamed world leaders for the
“crimes of poverty they themselves created.”
Francis held up
Mother Teresa as the model for a Catholic Church that goes to the
peripheries to find poor, wounded souls during a canonization Mass that
drew an estimated 120,000 people — rich and poor, powerful and homeless —
to a sun-filled St. Peter’s Square.
It was a new bar, this time. Father MacAvoy had finally been kicked out of his usual pub, so he’d had to find another one, one that didn’t know about his reputation. The only one he could find had been The Rabbit Hole, and he considered removing his collarino before walking in, but he was too unsteady to do anything near his neck.
That was how he’d ended up kicked out at closing time with hazy memories of being told that every pub in Greenwich was locking its doors to him. He staggered along the streets, vomiting occasionally—sometimes even into bins—until he had to stop and sag against a wall. Was the church even in this direction?
Didn’t matter. He’d either make it home or die on the way, and at this point, he didn’t care which.