this is why you will always be my one true love

anonymous asked:

Hi,I'm the anon who asked for the fluffy piece. If I had known it would make you doubt yourself I wouldn't have suggested it. Anyways, you asked for a prompt so here it is 'Katniss taking care of a comatose Peeta' and I challenge you to keep it smut free. dun dun dun. Thanks again. Don't doubt your self, you are an excellent writer.

no worries, you didn’t make me doubt myself. i already doubted myself lol anyway, here you go, hope this pleases you!


Katniss took a deep breath before opening her eyes, steeling herself for what came next.

Her gaze was immediately drawn to him, laid out on the bed. He looked as beautiful as ever, his flaxen curls shiny, his skin pale but rosy, infused with life. He was strong, his body honed by years of wrestling.

How was she supposed to believe he was in a coma?

She moved closer to the bed and hesitantly perched on the edge, afraid to disturb him. He didn’t move; she watched him for a single flutter of his eyelashes, a twitch in his cheek. Nothing. Her breath whooshed out of her lungs, and she gingerly took his hand in hers, leaning close.

“I can’t believe–” A hitch in her voice, and she pressed her lips together. “You were stupid to get in that car that night. Stupid to drive off angry. It was just an argument. We could have–” She stopped again, looking away. Swallowed, then lifted her eyes to his placid face. “Please. Wake up. Please. I can’t–I can’t do this without you–”

A pained gasp. She closed her eyes, choking back the words. It hit her now. She could see it perfectly: Peeta storming away from her, driving erratically, the roads wet from a recent downpour, hitting that slick spot, the car careening out of his control and going over the cliff, rolling and rolling until, finally, it came to a dead stop with his limp body trapped inside.

Her throat closed, and her sinuses stung with the press of tears. Katniss sniffled, but an errant tear slipped through her eyelashes, streaking down her cheek to drip off her chin. She hastily shook her head, expelling a rush of air to get a hold of her self. What was she saying again?

“Are you crying?”

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Rules of Engagement: Book 3

Inside Choices is a behind-the-scenes blog from the Pixelberry Team!

Since it launched last fall, Rules of Engagement has been going full steam ahead. Now on its third book, the trilogy is settling the question of your nana’s inheritance, once and for all. Will true love prevail? Are you headed for married bliss or total disaster? And can your siblings figure things out in time? All will be answered in the upcoming Rules of Engagement chapters!

A chat with the Rules of Engagement writers has been long past due, so here they are! To get a behind-the-scenes peek at Rules of Engagement, read on…

I remember the feeling of excitement in the air when Rules of Engagement was being brainstormed as the first book to follow up the initial three in Choices. How did you come up with Rules of Engagement? Where did you want to go with it?

Kara: I was still working on TC&TF, which was a trilogy, so it felt right to think of this one as a trilogy too. With how big the cast was, I think it would’ve been hard to do justice to all of the characters and plots that we had planned in a shorter amount of time. We knew we wanted to get another book out fast, so we didn’t have too much time going into it. We brainstormed each sibling’s plot separately, which was a lot of world building, but we were really happy with how different each story came out. We knew we wanted Rules to have more crazy twists and drama than the other books, so it was really fun trying to come up with those, but mostly I just fell in love with all of the characters and telling all of their stories.

Jennifer: I remember when we were first brainstorming, one of the themes we wanted to touch upon was the theme of family. That’s why the siblings are so close, and I think the idea of keeping the family together was what inspired all of Nana’s zany requests. Even though Nana’s will seems pushy, I always thought, at the heart of it, what she wanted most was to see everyone happy which is why the tasks push them to making such drastic changes in their lives.

Coco: I didn’t join the Rules team until later on in Book 1, but I know they wanted to create a book that enabled players to travel often and see new places! Because cruise ships are so mobile, the Ember of the Sea was an ideal setting. I have an uncle that worked briefly as a pianist on a cruise ship in the Mediterranean, so I drew a little bit from my experience when I visited him! Getting to write about travel adventures was one of the aspects that excited me the most, and I can’t wait to show the different places we’ll go next!

What’s new about Book 3? How do you think the series has changed?

Coco: In Book 3, players get to plan different aspects of their wedding from the vows to the decorations! The finale will be fun either way, but the art and events change depending on your choices, and our artists did a great job. I hope this gives a more customizable and personal feel to your wedding day!

We also reveal a bit more about the backstory of the family members, particularly your aunt and your cousin. In particular, how you choose to treat your cousin will affect your playthrough and ending of the series. I have something of a soft spot for cousin – she’s so snarky and fun to write, but she’s also been through a lot. I’m looking forward to developing these characters more and revealing new dimensions to them.

Since this is Rules of Engagement, we’ve gotta talk romance. Who would you date in Rules of Engagement?

Ariel: Actually, the Rules of Engagement writers each have a different favorite suitor. There’s no lack of love for any of our leading lady’s prospective fiances! We often joke about which writer is the leader of their favorite guy’s fan club and who’s the hottie of the Ember of the Sea, but at the end of the day, each suitor has their own strengths designed to make us swoon. The businessman appeals to those who want to get swept off their feet and enjoy grand gestures, while the prince is perfect for anyone who loves adventure and being spontaneous, and last but not least, the bartender speaks to those who desire that confidante who always knows how to make them laugh.

Coco: Ariel came up with a very diplomatic answer, but don’t be fooled! She’s Team Bartender all the way! :P I have to agree with her; I think falling in love with your best friend sounds like the ideal. However, I think the prince is the most fun to write because he’s the most rebellious.

Jennifer: I originally wrote for and have a soft spot for the businessman. But if I could personally date anyone in Rules, it would be the older brother, Alex, because I always find his chapters hilarious.

Aside from the cruise and the massive inheritance, a good chunk of Rules of Engagement ties into real life. There’s the ups and downs of dating, figuring out your future and identity, being there for your family… How do you relate to the story? And how does that influence your writing?

Kara: Rules has always been close to my heart because I was able to put a lot of my own family experience into the story. I’m the youngest of four, with an older brother and two older sisters–I guess maybe that makes me the Jess? Also, like the Rules siblings, I’m biracial, though I’m half Chinese and they’re half Filipino Chinese. Growing up in a big family, I’ve always loved sibling dynamics and how each person can be related and have these shared experiences of childhood, but also have their own personality that they bring to the table. I think what I like most about Rules is that the siblings all love and support each other so much. That’s what I’ve always loved about my own family. We’re each off doing our own things in life, but deep down, we’re a team and we always have each other’s backs. I really wanted the Rules siblings to have that same feel.

Jennifer: I relate to the story on many levels which is why it’s so near and dear to my heart. Having a close family is a big one like Kara was saying. My nuclear family isn’t that big, but I grew up with my sister and my cousins, so it felt that way. That made it super fun to write the sibling scenes, particularly the ones where you get dressed with your sisters or stay up late to giggle in your room talking about life (and boys). Another big one is that my own family is Chinese but grew up in the Philippines, so the blend of those two cultures was something we decided to put into the family’s background. And of course, I drew on my own experience dating (eep!) when it came to capturing the excitement of meeting someone for the first time and realizing you’re falling in love as well as portraying the doubts and thoughts that crop up as you’re discovering who you are in that relationship and how you relate to the other person.

A key part of the whole inheritance task deal is that each sibling has to learn something - whether its responsibility, spontaneity, or discovering true love. Which of Nana’s lessons speak to you the most?

Coco: I think I’m somewhere halfway between the twins Jess and Nicole (perhaps most people are?), so I’m not sure that either of their tasks fits me perfectly. But I think all of the inheritance tasks were their nana’s way of guiding the cousins along to the future in the best way she knew how. As a 20-something who recently graduated college (ugh, a millenial, I know), I can definitely relate to them in terms of trying to figure out my next step and where to go from here. I feel like the summer tasks give the cousins a chance to experiment and explore, whether it’s with careers, love, adventure, or independence, as well as learn that these don’t all have to be mutually exclusive.

Jennifer: Of all the siblings, I’m the most like Nicole in that, when I was younger, I wanted ultimate control of my life. In college, I had a very detailed plan to become a doctor and save the world, so I think it’s funny that I became a writer for Pixelberry. Of course, writing was such a big part of my life growing up–I started when I was six and kept writing throughout high school. I’m surprised I didn’t embrace that side of myself earlier, but I think I was a little afraid since so much of writing is putting yourself out there. I guess what I learned and tried to put into the Nicole arc is that life throws you so many curveballs, that some spontaneity and a little bit of courage is necessary for you to figure out what you want most and to go for it.

What do we have to look forward to with the rest of Book 3? What are you most excited about?

Jennifer: Planning your wedding! =) Also, I hope people enjoy the conclusion as much as we enjoyed brainstorming it. There’s something very satisfying about tying up loose ends.

Coco: There’s plenty to look forward to, like new ports to visit, new outfits, new characters, new animations, and also a few new romances for the supporting characters! In the first two books, we wanted to give you more of an opportunity to go on different dates and have fun, but in Book 3, you’ll hopefully get to know your special, chosen fiancé on a deeper level. I’m probably most excited about bachelorette/bachelor party shenanigans, but also a few things that I can’t quite share with you yet! ;)

As we reach the conclusion of the series, thanks to everyone who has been traveling on the cruise ship with us, from the several writers who have moved on to new projects, and of course, to the players! We hope you’ve had fun escaping to the Mediterranean with us.

Be sure to check back Wednesdays for new chapters of Rules of Engagement: Book 3! Where do you think the cruise will go next?

-Jessica

VERY IMPORTANT PSA TO ALL OF MY FOLLOWERS:

So…we need to talk…

I don’t really know how to start this because it’s been awhile for me, but please bear with me.

I guess I should start by saying, I’m back.

For those of you that didn’t know, I took a very long break due to personal reasons (I’ll explain further down if anyone is interested) and haven’t actually been on Tumblr for the past few weeks.

Everything that was being posted from my account was part of my queue.

I’m sorry to anyone who messaged me or reached out to me in my time of absence (I’ve been gone almost 3 weeks I think) but, rest assured, I’m back now and will be replying to every single message I received while I was gone.

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PSA

I follow a lot of awesome vegans and a lot of vegan posts pop up on my dash. I’M NOT GETTING INTO AN ARGUMENT ABOUT VEGANISM WITH ANYONE. THAT’S NOT WHAT THIS IS ABOUT. I just feel like I need to address a trend I see pretty frequently:

Anthropomorphism of farm animals.

This is DANGEROUS, for both the animals and the people who believe what’s being said about these animals. 

For example, cows. 

For obvious reasons the images of cows in posts talking about how cows aren’t dumb, unfeeling hamburgers in waiting are generally like this:

And usually they’re accompanied by talk of how they can be trained, how they have best friends (which is actually true!) and how sweet they can be. 

On the other side, there are posts like this going around 

Thing is, cows do not cry tears like humans do. In fact, there are a lot of posts claiming to present animals weeping like humans do (and not always by vegans).  In fact watery discharge can be a sign of early eye infections in cattle. Claiming they’re tears of sadness normalizes signs of ill health as normal animal emotions. This is also I why I get so worked up over people saying a stressed out dog with its lips pulled back is ‘smiling and happy’. 

All of these posts combine to make the popular perception of cows something they’re absolutely not and is very dangerous for people with their hearts in the right place looking to help the world out. 

Cows are dangerous. I feel like I shouldn’t have to tell people that a thousand pound animal is dangerous, but I do. Not the people I see on my dash, but actual people looking to interact with actual cows (I work with them). Yes, they can be lovely and docile when socialized and handled correctly and consistently but if you have no way of knowing the cows background you have no way of knowing their temperament. If you decide to volunteer at cattle rescues, this will very likely be the case. Moreover, well socialized and docile cattle ARE STILL DANGEROUS AS FUCK. Even the most tame animals can lash out if in pain, under stress or “out of nowhere” (read: lashing out because from their judgement of a situation in makes sense to them, but you misread their judgement). So you get things like this:

With the huge emphasis on docile cows who are good, loving, devoted mothers it’s understandable someone would want to give her a calming and congratulatory stroke after giving birth. 

That cow could have killed her. 

This is obviously dangerous for humans but it’s also dangerous for cows. Aggressive animals are often euthanized, no matter what provoked the aggression and it also inflates statistics that could be used as a counter argument to veganism. 

The same sort of thing happens to pigs. 

The vegan info posts about pigs tend to use images like this:

Cute, eh? The posts also talk about how intelligent these animals are and how they can be kept as pets. Who wouldn’t want one? Usually people who look into pigs as pets look into ‘mini’ pigs or ‘micro’ pigs. Pigs that will stay small forever. Except even ‘mini’ pigs can grow to a hundred pounds in size and they’re STRONG. I say ‘mini’ because sometimes people are duped into buying regular piglets that are claimed to be fully grown. 

Which brings me back to warning anyone who wants to volunteer at a pig rescue that pigs. are. huge. People mislead into thinking they’re not will likely not keep and care for their little pig once it’s not so little and I don’t know anyone who would/could keep a 500 lb hog in their home and/or backyard. 

And, like with cows, they are DANGEROUS. 

And, unlike cows, they are not herbivores. 

PEOPLE HAVE BEEN KILLED AND EATEN BY PIGS. Yes, eaten. One could argue that this happens when pigs aren’t well socialized and habituated with humans, but if you’re working with a pig you don’t know you have no guarantee that they’re tame. 

I could go on, but cows and pigs are the animals I see most represented in these posts (chickens too, but they pose less of a threat, unless you count avian flu) and another thing I see very frequently are cute pictures and videos and cows, pigs, and chickens interacting with dogs. If you’re under the impression that these animals are sweet and docile and your dog is also sweet, what could go wrong?

A lot. 

Odds are your animals will not be used to interacting with an animal of that species and these animals ‘languages’ don’t always translate! Animals get things mixed up all the time! The most common one I’ve seen is a dog misreading a cat’s irritated swishy tail as a wagging ‘I want to play!’ tail. Claws to the face aren’t fun, but attacked by a large animal? Possibly deadly. Dogs do not comprehend size and strength and potential for an aggressive strike in the same way that we do. That’s why you end up with things like this:

Again, that dog could’ve easily died OR MIGHT HAVE DIED LATER. 

This little trooper was kicked by a cow

Projecting your feelings and ideas onto an animal can potentially kill them. Again, if you have the opportunity to work with these animals KEEP YOUR OWN ANIMALS AWAY. 

All of these things remind me very much of the people who claim wolves are nothing but big puppies, or who cohabitant snakes so they don’t get ‘lonely’. 

You can’t love and advocate for the protection of an animal when you only love and advocate for the protection of your fantasy of that animal because when real animals fall short of that, real animals get hurt. 

Horses, cows, and pigs are big. Respect their size. Horses, cows, and pigs ALL have the potential to become aggressive. EVERY. SINGLE. ONE. Respect their potential to become aggressive. 

Thank you, 

Signed, a person who is sick to fucking death of watching adults assume every farm animal I work with has the personality of a bowl of whipped cream and the patience of a saint and encourage their children to interact with them as such. That’s how animal “attacks” happen, that’s how lifetime fears and hatreds are born. 

the signs as i’ve known them irl

Aries: you’re feisty and confident and loud but also ridiculously naive and quite childish. your smile is blinding and you’re fiercely protective of your friends and would go to the ends of the world for their sake. i like you. although i wish you’d learn to read situations and be more tactful, i admire your sincerity and honesty. you’re refreshingly genuine.

Taurus: you’re so hard on yourself, it’s as if you’ve put a boulder on your chest and refuse to take it off. you don’t need to handle all this pressure, but you put in on yourself anyway, and are incredibly stubborn about it. it’s okay to relax and enjoy yourself. being alive is not a punishment. you’re so much happier when unrestricted by worries; know that you don’t need to handle everything alone.

Gemini: you’re intelligent and very talkative with those whose company you enjoy. you want someone who’ll click and can engage you in conversation, whether intellectual or random. you’re so used to changing yourself to suit other people’s tastes that you aren’t sure how to be yourself anymore; to you, all of those personalities somehow seemed like genuine sides of yourself.

Cancer: you’re always so friendly and welcoming and kind with everyone, but at the same time, you always felt very distant to me. part of me feels like i wrongfully infringed on your personal space by trying to get closer, even though that’s not the case. from time to time i feel like i can see glimpses of your true feelings, but it always disappears back into a facade just as i notice.

Leo: you’re kind and helpful– and cheerful, to some extent. you really like attention. some of you are lowkey about it and some of you have zero subtlety about it, but regardless, you want to be recognized for your hard work and efforts. you feel overshadowed by people who are better than you and want to improve yourself, but may feel lost sometimes as to how to get there.

Virgo: you’re so stubborn, hardworking, and determined; i’m not sure if it’s frightening or annoying. it’s also a huge pain in the neck to argue with you because you firmly believe that your views are The Right Ones and completely disregard any arguments against it. you’re organized and neat and intelligent. i understand your feelings to some level, but i wish you were more open-minded.

Libra: you’re not a bad person, but you’re not exactly morally upstanding, either. and that comes from your ability to see situations from all sides. it’s a bit infuriating trying to ask your opinion on things because of this; you see and understand all views and end up confused and unable to decide. you’re good with people but tend to hold most of them at a distance to avoid getting hurt.

Scorpio: you have a wild sense of humor and are rather sarcastic, but it’s mostly there to cover up your insecurities and feelings. you’re passionate but try to keep it subdued (and it works quite well, if i’m honest). it’s alright to have feelings. i don’t know exactly who hurt you in the past, but you don’t need to hide your emotions behind a quirky persona. it’s okay to let it out and just be

Sagittarius: you’re very sarcastic and funny and sometimes just plain mean on the outside, but you’re so sweet and gentle and kind on the inside; the contrast always makes me melt a little. you’re quite intelligent and try to see the bright side even if it’s hard. you don’t like sharing personal information or revealing how you feel easily. you genuinely care for your friends and want to help them.

Capricorn: i worry about you. you’re hardworking and diligent but somehow lazy at the same time. you’re also hard on yourself and have deep insecurities and strong feelings about things that you hide rather than open up about. you’re bitingly sarcastic and i love your sense of humor. you’re also incredibly kind to others, which can hurt you when others don’t show you the same kindness.

Aquarius: flighty. you’re kind and compassionate on the outside but hold a deeply-rooted bitterness within you. i dislike how you always blame everyone but yourself for your own problems, especially when they could be easily resolved if you simply lightened up a bit. part of me wonders if you care more about global and societal issues because you don’t know how to deal with the personal ones. 

Pisces: you’re passionate and emotionally fragile, though experience has taught you to hide it behind walls. when you love, it’s with full force and zero inhibitions; that’s why you get hurt so easily. you’re not easy to understand and people have ostracized you because they misinterpret your words or actions. i feel sorry for you, but at the same time i know that misguided pity is the last thing you want. 

“ My aunt also had a girlfriend. Supposedly this aunt swore to me in my cradle that I would turn out like her. Even as a child I preferred pants and a boy’s haircut. I didn’t want to wear dresses and skirts. When I first started working at AOK, I had to run errands and get files from the basement. There was always a group of women in the basement sitting, singing, and dancing with each other; I’ve always loved to dance. Sometimes they had a bottle and we drank a bit. It was there that I saw Hilde Berghausen, and I thought to myself “Gee, you could fall for that Hilde!” But I still didn’t really know why. Hilde was older than me; I was fifteen and she was twenty or twenty-one. Once she invited me home with her; I went with her—brought a pounding heart and a bouquet from our garden with me. Her parents were on vacation. We were talking and she asked me if I had a girlfriend. “Of course. Herta, my friend from school.” “There are two kinds of girlfriends.” “What do you mean, two kinds? I really love Herta!”

[…] I started going to the clubs and got to know everything around 1931, when I was fifteen. Back then, before Hitler came to power, we had a lot of clubs. For example, at the Andreas Festival Theater on Andreas Street there was a ball once a month. Through the Magic Flute, I joined a lesbian bowling club, “The Funny Nine”, which was led by Lieschen and her girlfriend Gertrud. We went bowling once a week, and once a month we rented a really big room in a dance hall on Landsberger Street. It was really nice, young and old together, fifty- to sixty-year-olds, the rest around twenty, and I was always the youngest. Later, after 1933, the proprietors–they were Nazi supporters–they stopped renting to us. Lieschen, who was in her sixties then, said “Let’s just forget this club.” And so we just forgot about it. I also went to the Monocle Bar…I still remember a lot of women who frequented that club. But they closed the Monocle Bar in 1933.

[…] When I went back home after the Labor Service, my mother found out, since all my girlfriends had written to me. I had stolen chocolate and cigarettes—we had everything in the restaurant—and I sent all my sweethearts little packages and they wrote, “My dear little Johnny-mouse, thanks so much for the wonderful package. I’m lying on my bed smoking a cigarette from you and I think of you always. Oh, I wish you were still here with me!” When my mother saw all the letters she thought “Oh my goodness, that isn’t normal; there’s something not right here.” Every day four or five letters arrived.

[…After the official ban on homosexual clubs,] outside it always said “Private Party.” You had to ring a bell and she only let in people she wanted. In 1941 there was also a very nice club on Hoch Street… but that one closed suddenly too. Even during the Nazi period there were always clubs you could go to, but they always disappeared again after a while. After 1938 there were more and more raids. If we went to one and it was closed, then we didn’t know what had happened. Before the war, Lotte Hahm had also opened a place, at Alexanderplatz in the teacher’s association building on the second floor. There used to be a dance café there. Lotte Hahm had rented it and organized ladies’ nights there. But that didn’t last very long either. […] I knew that Lotte Hahm served time in jail for seduction of a minor. That’s just nonsense; I’d never believe that about her. It was just a pretext. Then I heard that she was supposedly in a concentration camp. She really had disappeared from the face of the earth for years, so that must be true.

[…] Margot and [her girlfriend Hildegard, aka] Peter, both lived with Lissy, a woman like us who still lived at home and had already hidden one Jew, also one of us. Margot was in hiding there and Peter lived there officially. […] All of a sudden [the Gestapo] came from Gesundbrunnen Station. I said to Margot, “Don’t even bother going home; come with me.” She stayed with me at least three to six months. I had a one-room apartment. We only went outside in the dark at night; she had to get some fresh air. I had really nice neighbors who didn’t support Hitler at all. Our landlady was Jewish; the landlord wasn’t, but because they were married—a so-called privileged mixed marriage—he had been able to save her. The Jewish woman was really great; she tolerated our having girlfriends, that is, this homosexuality. She was the only one who knew I had hidden Margot. The neighbors didn’t know; I never would have said anything. Back then children even denounced their own parents.
[…] One evening we were at Vineta Square again and a woman from the house saw her. Margot hadn’t noticed that she was being watched. The Russians were already in Berlin, but there was still a lot of shooting. The next day the Gestapo came again—to me this time. If they had gotten her then, they would have shot her. Of course, they would have shot me too. But Margot wasn’t there; she was upstairs at Hanni’s—also one of us… When they came to check on me, I simply said “I don’t know any Margot” and they were finished with me. It was May, right before the war ended. ”

—Anneliese W. (1916-1995), from Claudia Schoppmann’s Days of Masquerade: Life Stories of Lesbians During the Third Reich

Rivals? || Peter Parker Imagine

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Word Count: 2238 words

Request by anon: hi, can you please do a peter parker x reader imagine where the reader is tony starks daughter or something and she and peter hate each other but they low key have sexual tension or something like that? and the imagine ends with them kissing or something? idk sorry if that didn’t make sense

No spoilers homie

Originally posted by peterbparkerr


Y/N Stark always wanted a normal life. She hated being known as Iron Man’s ​daughter. She hated not being a normal teenager. For her entire life, she was home schooled,being taught from the best in New York. So of course, she wanted to go to a high school, to have the experience of hating her teachers and falling in love.

The first day of freshmen year was strange at Midtown High, most people didn’t know who she was until she told them her name. Rumors had been going around about the infamous Y/N Stark was attending Midtown, but nobody thought of it to be true.

Teachers would kiss up to her, not wanting to face the wrath of her father, Tony Stark. Everyone wanted to be her friend by the Friday of her first week in high school, everyone but one person, Peter Parker. He hated how she got treated like royalty by the teacher and the students, especially Flash, who did anything to get her attention. He hated how her grades were as good as his. The whole school knew about their rivalry quickly into freshmen year.

After Peter got bitten by the radioactive spider that gave him his powers, he knew he had to do something with his ability. Like his Uncle said, “With great power comes great responsibility.” This only convinced him more that he should be out there, protecting the people of New York. He was also happy that he finally got something that Y/N didn’t have.

He would never admit it to anyone, but he thought she was the most beautiful girl in the world. When she was around him, he was captivated by her beauty. They would share glances in the hallway but would both quickly look away from embarrassment.

Y/N didn’t hate him, she tried to be nice to him. She didn’t like how her dad gave Peter all of his attention, but she understood it was for a good reason. The two teens were always battling for first place for everything such as science fairs and debates. They were always neck and neck, him beating her as much as she did him. But, she thought it was cute when Peter did little things like tap his fingertips on his desk when he was nervous or whenever he spoke, she was drawn to his lips. She thought Peter was cute in general.

Most people saw his ‘hatred’ for her as love masked with hate. Everyone thought that by the end of high school the two would be dating. Peter’s friends tried convincing him to talk to her, nicely, but he wouldn’t. Y/N’s friends tried to get the two smartest kids at Midtown High together, but it just failed.

“Hey Dad?” Y/N asked while she sat at the dinner table alone with her father. He looked up from his food, “Hmm?” He mumbled back to her, with food in his mouth.

“Can I go to a-a party tonight?” She questioned, playing with the food on her fork.

“Where is it?” Tony asked, stuffing food into his mouth. Y/N looked up at him, “Queens. In the suburbs. A lot of my friends are going.” She added.

Tony nodded his head, “Fine you can go.” Y/N looked at her dad, eyes wide. “Really?” She exclaimed.

“Yes. But no drinking,” He stated, pointing his finger at her but paused, “Okay. Minimal drinking.”

Y/N smiled widely, nodding her head muttering, “Yeah, yeah of course. Thank you.” She ran up to Tony and hugged him.

She left her chair and went to hug him. “Let me take you.” He said as he hugged her back. Y/N pulled away furrowed her eyebrows, slightly confused at the man, “Why?” Usually if Y/N had somewhere to be, Tony made someone else take her so the act was strange.

Tony smirked, “Come on, you’d be the coolest person there because I have sweet cars.” Y/N nodded her head, agreeing with him. “Okay, well I’m gonna go get ready.” She beamed, running up the stairs.


Tony pulled up to you’re friends house, music blaring and red solo cups already littering the ground. He looked at Y/N, wondering where all the time went. “Ugh, you’re growing up, guess it had to happen sooner or later,” He joked, making Y/N giggle.

“I’m gonna go, I’ll call you when it’s over, or text you if I’m staying the night, alright?” She asked, exiting the car. Some of the teens who were standing outside or just got dropped off were staring in shock. Tony Stark just dropped his teenage daughter off at a party in a, most likely, a very expensive car.

Y/N slammed the door shut, “Bye Dad!” She waved with a smile, waiting for him to drive away.Tony smiled at his daughter, bidding his farewell before speeding away.

“God, she irritates me. She would obviously have her rich daddy drive her here in a cool ass car just to make herself look good.” Peter groaned as he went inside with Ned.

“Or maybe he wanted to take his daughter to a high school party?” Ned suggested, realizing that the statement didn’t make much sense. The boys walked over to the drink table. Booze, booze, booze. Whatever. Peter soon found the fridge and got water, in a red cup so people wouldn’t call him so prude.

Y/N had found a couple of your friends to hang out with. They were already buzzed, she wanted to stay sober just to make sure her friends got home safely.

Halfway through the party, Flash, the host, shouted, “Yo, if anyone wants to play seven minutes in heaven, bring your ass over here!”

About half a dozen people followed him. Everyone at the party was either too drunk to car about his statement or didn’t want to play the game where they were locked in a closet with a stranger. “Come on, let’s go.” One of your friends exclaimed.

“Yeah let’s go.” Your other friend yelled.

“Um, I don’t think it’s a good idea.” You shouted over the loud music. Your friends rolled their eyes and grabbed either of your arms, dragging you in Flash’s direction. The group of people who wanted to play were already there, sitting in a circle, around a bottle that was resting on a table. You looked at the faces of all the people, and was met with the grimace of Peter Parker.

Her friends found an open spot in the circle so naturally, Y/N sat with them, sitting diagonally across from Peter. “You all should know how the game works. But, to those of you who don’t [cough] Peter Parker [cough].” Flash boomed, making his friends laugh. Y/N felt bad for him, he didn’t deserve to be treated badly. No one does.

“Whoever wants to start, will spin the bottle. Whoever the bottle lands on, you have to go into that closet,” He said, pointing to a closet nearby, “for seven minutes with that person. You can do whatever you want in there cause it’ll be locked. After seven minutes I’ll open the door and yeah. Start the process over again with the person next to you. So, who’s first?”

It was about 4 rounds into the game, and Y/N was getting bored. But she was glad she didn’t have to go in yet. After a pair came out of the closet, with lipstick smeared all over their faces it was Peter’s turn. “Be cool about it, there are a lot of hot girls in this circle man.” Ned whispered when Peter spun the bottle. Peter nodded his head, agreeing with his friend.

The bottle spun slower and slower, Peter’s hands were starting to get clammy. The bottle stopped and he looked up from the green glass. The person sitting in front of it was none other than Y/N Stark. All the teenagers froze, shocked at what had happened. “I-I gotta go,” Peter mutter, standing up from his seat on one of the couches.

“Na-na-na-na no,” Peter felt a hand on his shoulder, turning to see Flash, “You’re gonna go into that closet with your best friend Y/N.” Flash finished sarcastically, pulling Peter over to Y/N, before grabbing her arm and pushing them into the closet. Flash slammed the door closed, making the two flinch.

“Seven minutes starts now,” Flash shouted from behind the door, before walking away towards the group of teens.

It was quiet for about thirty seconds, the two both scared of talking to the other. There was enough space in the closet to leave you both a couple inches apart, but only a couple inches. “Um, I’m sorry you had to do this,” Y/N apologized sympathetically, “I should’ve never come to this stupid party.” She muttered the last part, shaking her head. Peter stayed silent, holding one arm with the other.

“Why do you hate me so much?” Y/N asked, desperate to know.

Peter sighed, “I-I don’t hate you. It’s just,” he paused, not knowing what to say, “I was so used to being the smartest kid in class and suddenly you show up, beating me in nearly everything. I guess I was just, jealous of what you had.” He admitted honestly, slightly frustrated. Looking down in between the two to look at his shoes. “You have everything in the world. You have a lot of money, a rich dad, and a bunch of friends.You’re fucking perfect. I don’t have anything like that.”

“I’m sorry,” Y/N apologized again, feeling bad for him. She started playing with her thumbs, “But, I’m not perfect, I hated what I had. My rich dad gives you more attention now than he gives me because of the whole, superhero thing.” She whispered the last part, not knowing if anyone was listening, “My friends only want to be friends with me because of my name and the money I have. It sucks, ya know?” Y/N finished, a few tears leaking from her eyes.

“I, I didn’t know you felt that way,” He said, regretting the way he has treated this girl for the past couple of years. He moved forward, closing the space between them, moving his hands to cup her cheeks, brushing away her tears with his thumbs.

“You didn’t deserve the way I treated you. I didn’t know what things were like for you. I am so sorry I was so rude to you.” He apologized, leaning his forehead against hers. Y/N reached up and placed her hands on his shoulders, squeezing reassuringly.

“You didn’t know, it’s alright.” She whispered, her breath fanning against his cheeks, and a small, understanding smile on her lips.

“But it’s not alright,” Peter murmured, rubbing one of his thumbs on her cheek. Y/N closed her eyes for a second, “If you kiss me, I’ll forgive you.” He looked at her slightly shocked. But he closed his eyes and tilted his head slightly to the right before leaning in and capturing her lips with his. She closed her eyes once again, putting her arms around his neck and her hands into his hair.

His lips were soft, and hers tasted like candy. Her nose brushed against his cheek, but the act went unnoticed. She started playing with his hair, twirling it around her fingers.

Unbeknownst to Peter and Y/N, Flash shouted that the seven minutes were up. He moved towards the wooden door, not hearing anything coming from the other side due to the loud music. He went to unlock the door. When it opened, he froze. “Holy shit!” Flash shouted making the two kissing immediately pull apart, out of breath.

Peter had a blush rising on his face, mimicking Y/N’s. Most of the people who were playing were curious at what was happening, a crowd forming around the door. “They were just making out!” Flash shouted with a smirk on his lips, making the blush on Peter and Y/N’s face deepen.

“Alright Parker!” Someone in the crowd of people yelled, making Y/N stifle a laugh. Peter glared at her playfully. The crowd of people began to fade away, Flash telling the two to get out of the closet for the next round of people to go in.

Peter and Y/N walked to a place in the house where there wasn’t a herd of people. “So, do you want to go to the movies with me sometime?” Peter stammered, nervous about what her answer might be. Y/N smiled, “I would love too, Peter. Now, go enjoy the rest of the party. I have to go deal with my drunk friends.” You chuckled starting to back away. 

Peter nodded his head understandingly, “I’ll text you then. Yeah?” 

Y/N tilted her heard to the side slightly. “You better. You don’t want to make a Stark angry.” She said with a chuckle, walking back towards her friends.

Peter fist bumped the air, before whispering to himself, “I have a date….. awesome.”

The Pilgrim (Part 1)

This is the first half of a Zimbits soulmate AU, where you can feel the pull of your soulmate like a compass. This is a first draft, so no corrections have been made so far. I just wanted to throw it out there. There will be a second and final part to this- and I’ll do my best to write it soon. 




Dear Mama and Coach,

I’m sorry to leave with only a note, but this is something I have to do. I left for my pilgrimage. I know I’m way too young, but I couldn’t wait. … I think my soulmate is dying. I felt the pull stop for a full minute. It never happened before. I can’t wait another four years before seeking them! I hope you understand.

Also, I didn’t tell y’all because… I think my soulmate may be a man.

I hope you’re not too mad at me. I’ll call.

I love you both,

– Dicky


North. The pull had always pointed North. Sometimes, when Eric changed cities, he tried to triangulate the feel, but there was never enough difference in what he felt to pinpoint a precise location on a map. His soulmate could be in any of the states above Georgia, or- well, they could live further North. He wondered what would be worse for his parents, that his soulmate was a man, or that he was a Yankee.

He’d stressed about it for years but, now that he was stuck on a bus for who knew how long, he couldn’t stop worrying. He fidgeted with the cheap pilgrimage kit he’d bought at Atlanta. A map of the United States, a plastic ruler, a tiny pencil and a miserable looking compass that didn’t seem to point in the same direction if he shook it a bit. It was all he could afford, since the bus ticket from Madison to Atlanta, then Atlanta to… wherever, took most of his “borrowed” money.

That was another thing. His parents would be so mad when they noticed he took from his savings account. That money was supposed to go to his skating class- or more recently, his hockey equipment.

Maybe he could have asked. Maybe they’d understood, and offered more, and Coach would have lent him his own brass compass, the one inherited from his own father, the one he used to follow the pull until he found his own soulmate. Maybe his mother would have kissed him on the forehead and maybe she’d have offered to ride with him wherever the pull led him- North, North, always North…

But maybe not.

It wasn’t something Eric wanted to risk. The steadiness of the pull had stopped, for just a minute, maybe more, but that was enough to change Eric’s own life. He had someone, somewhere, whose soul was compatible with his- who was maybe a lover, a friend- and that someone’s life had blinked.

He held back his nervous tears, fidgeted with the compass once more.

(more under the cut)

Keep reading

Some hilarious writing prompts

Alright so a few days ago I decided to look for some hilarious text posts on tumblr and I laughed so much I just had to write some prompts! (is possible to be customized)
(Send me requests with 1/1+ prompt/s. I write about a lot of fandoms and also a lot of different things : one shots/scenarios/imagines/headcanons/chats/conversations/aesthetics/alomst anything) REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

*1. Do I look like I give a fuck?
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*2. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on you again for taking advantage of my compassionate and forgiving nature! HOw dare you.
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*3. Me? Overreacting? Probably.
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4. I used to be passive aggressive, but now I’m aggressively passive. Don’t mess with me kiddo. I’ll be right here. I’ll fucking forgive you.
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5. A: Whar are you doing?
B: Avoiding.
A: Avoiding what?
B: Everything.
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*6. This was impulsive. Probably shouldn’t have done it. WHO CARES?
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*7. You’re really cute and it’s ruining my life because I think about kissing you all the time.
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8. A: It’s okay, I’m not mad.
    A (5 mins later): Actually? You can go to Hell.
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9. I hate people who get personally offended when I’m in a bad mood, likeI’m not mad at you Susan (name), I’m mad at the world!
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10. A to A: Bitch, if you actually applied yourself in like…anything, you’d be dangerous ,damn my lazy ass.
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11. I don’t know what I’m feeling, but there’s a lot of it.
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12. Not to dictate your life, but drop your shitty friends.
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13. That sounds like responsibility and I want no part in it.
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14. Why am I better than everyone? Jesus, life’s hard.
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15. A: How do you make someone holy?
B: You beat the hell out of them.
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16. A: I’m amazed of how insignificant we actually are.
B: Not me, I’m important.
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17. If anyone can do it, then someone who isn’t me can do it.
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18. In the old days of one week ago things were different. Now look at us - slightly older than we were back then, other clothes and such.
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19. I’m not going to claim that I know everything, I’m simply going to act like it.
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*20. You have to “see it to believe it”, so as long as I’m not looking I don’t have to believe in anything.
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21. I’m visualising a powerful mystical energy at the moment.
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22. If I don’t learn anything from my mistakes then I don’t have to consider them mistakes in the first place.
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23. Why the hell is there always this one weak bitch in the group that isn’t down with murder? No offence though.
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24. A: If you ever feel stupid, or weak, or powerless, just remember that I, am not.
B: THanks.
A: You’re welcome.
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25. I wanna do dirty stuff with you like farming.
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26. A: What are you reading?
B: 10 tips for beutiful hair the Government doesn’t want you to know.
A: wHAT the fuck?
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27. A: I’m tired of these constant near-death experiences.
B: (opinional) don’t be a whiny bitch, bitch.
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28. Man, how many eye contact until date?
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29. God has a favourite comedy tv series and it’s called “my life”.
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30. Sometimes all you can say is “yikes” and then just on the fuck on.
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31. Why is everyone having their mid-life crisis at like 19?
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32. It’s a beutiful day to give me money, honey.
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33. Women aren’t complicated, you’re just dumb.
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34. Well this social situation isn’t going the way I acted it out in the shower.
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35. No offence, but my favourite hobby is staying hydrated and beautiful.
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36. I’m actually pretty cool if you give me like 5 tries to get it right.
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37. Today I’m feeling cloudy with a chance of sarcastic.
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38. Be prapared to add a cute emoji next to my name in your contacts list because you’re gonna love me.
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*39.A: Babe, I’m not grabbing your boob, I’m grabbing your heart.
B: That’s my right boob though.
A: Babe.
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40.Every machine is a smoke machine if you operate it wrong enough.
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41.What makes me feel like a failure the most is when I can’t remember the answet to a Harry Potter trivia question.
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42.I hate it when I’m really nice…And then people are just not that nice? Like what the fuck.
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43.Don’t look at me in that tone of voice.
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*44.Is your name candle? Because I wanna blow you.
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*45. So, was that just awkward eye contact, or were we checking eachother out?-

46.You know, having feelings is ruining my reputation of being a heartless bitch.
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47.My turn ons? Well I don’t know, maybe some fucking common sense.
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48.I may seem like an angry person on the surface, but deep inside I’m actually angrier.
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49.I ship me and that boat.
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50.Listen. I did mean to make you upset and I do think your opinions are shit. But you’re still my friend so it’s okay.
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51.Because my two moods are like glitter and death.
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*52.My kink is closing the fucking bathroom door, because no one wants to see you fucking pee!
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53.If I go to Hell I’m gonna constantly torture everyone by continuously asking if it’s hot in here or is it just me.
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54.Oh my God are you seeing this shit?
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55.Graduated top of my class from Hogwarts school of bitchcraft and misery.

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56.A (shows up at your door 10 years after we had an argument): aND ANOTHER THING

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57.I’ll betray all of you in the Hunger Games.

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58.Well, well, well, if it isn’t my old friend, the dawing realization that I fucked up real bad.

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59.I’m a screamer. Not sexually, just life in general.

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60.I’m not racist, I hate everyone equally.

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61.Tell me I’m cute or something, so I can roll my eyes at you, but then blush when I think about it later.

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62.You know when your hair is greasy and it makes you feel so bad about yourself? And your entire life. Everything is awful because my hair is greasy.

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63.True love is having a crush even when he got a haircut you know.

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64.Emotions? You know, I just push my tear back into my eye and tell it “Not now, you little bastard!”.

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65.Are we gonna hold hands, or what?

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66.My soul leaving my body, but with one of those slide whistle sound effects.

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67.A: I love you.

B: What if I got a bowl cut?

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68.I should really stop planning my future around being rich or famous…but I can’t.

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69.I’m aggressively thibking about having sex with you and trying to keep a straight face at the same time. Do you know hOW hard that is?

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70.My opinion is no.

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71.Did you fall from heaven, because so did Satan.

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72.What to hear a fairytale? Once upon a time you weren’t such a little bitch.

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73.Which is messier - my life or my hair?

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74.How can you face the problem when the problem is your face?

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75.Sometimes I wonder what it feels like to know wHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON.

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76.Read a girl who dates books.

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77.My hands are cold let me put them in your pants.

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78.I’m sorry, you must be at least level 4 friend to unlock my tragic backstory.

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79.My therapist once told me that I have this obsession with seeking revenge…we’ll see about that.

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80.You have lips, I have lips…interesting.

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81.Do my dark undereye circles and unwashed hair turn you on?

/PART TWO/


/170715 ; a Temporary side note: please for the moment don’t send me requests with the numbers that have a (*). I’ve received so many requests with those, I’m starting to run out of ideas :D Thank you ! / - persuasivus

10

This sweet little baby bean has touched my life. Born August 29th, 1958 and passed away June 25th, 2009.

Today marks the 8th anniversary of Michael’s passing and like most true fans, we mourn but we can still celebrate how wonderful and inspirational he is and was.

Michael Jackson is and will always be the King of Pop. He literally is a king too, King Sani in a tribal village in Africa! Jackson was always proud of his black heritage.

One of the things I love about him is his personality. He was misunderstood by many people (one thing in particular was his love for childlike things, but he always said that if you want to understand this, listen to his song “Childhood”). His personality people didn’t really understand. Jackson was a kind, gentle soul. His thoughts about music, life, and everything he spoke about or wrote about were expressed in a philosophical way. He was intelligent, humble, soft spoken, and very shy and grateful. He had a rich inner world (like a true introvert) and fans like myself always say: watch interviews to get a sense of who he really was!

Another thing I love about him is that he would show cultural appreciation in the things he did. He was all about embracing culture, individualism, love for each other, and the end of hate and ignorance. The epitome of what he was all about was to change the world for the better.

Michael really was a unique man. His attention to detail and his aesthetic-they contribute to why he’s such a legend. He was a genius and knew what would make people crave for more.
He reached global fame, one reason for his iconic dances. The moonwalk wasn’t invented by him but it definitely became his signature move. The Thriller dance, the “lean”, Billie Jean? He revolutionized dance. Another reason for his globalization is his philanthropy work. He donated $300 million dollars overall to 39 charities and holds the Guinness World Record for donated the most money as an entertainer. Everything he did was about raising global awareness through his music, his concerts, and videos. He created a scholarship, a foundation, and he’s created worldly renowned songs about encouraging people to help and take action to make the world better.

He really was a genuine entertainer. People had never seen anything like him-his outfits, his moves, his dances, and songs: they were all creative and inventive. Jackson’s carried on legacy reached global impact. The statues and memorabilia across the nation, the albums released after his death, and the reoccurring performances by impersonators carry on his spirit.

His albums: iconic. Thriller is known as the greatest album of all time. It went platinum in a week! Each song on it was literally a hit. It was #1 for 39 weeks; in the top 10 for 80 weeks! It was inducted into the Guinness Book of World Records for this. With his music, he received numerous awards and is known for winning 8 Grammys in 1984, which is also put in the Guinness Book of World Records. He’s actually in there 39 times! He’s won 26 American Music Awards, 13 Grammys, one of the few artists to be in the Rock in Roll Hall of Fame TWICE, 16 World Music Awards, has been honored by TWO Presidents of the United States, and many many more that I can’t name but because of all of the awards he’s won, he’s now dubbed the most awarded recording artist in the history of popular music.

All of his albums resonated with people. Jackson revolutionized the music industry, fashion, and dance with his innovative work and even paved the way for black artists. Say what you want about Michael Jackson but he is one of a kind. There will never be another Michael Jackson and nobody can deny his tremendous impact on the world.

Thank you Michael for blessing us with your creativity. You’ve touched this earth. You’re one of the most beautiful people to walk this planet (also literally because just look at him??).
I love you so much, I wish I could have met you or attended a concert but I’d say that seeing one of my favorite impersonators gave me closure.

Continue to Rest In Peace, angel.
And P.S. you may have been lonely sometimes but you were never truly lonely because you had us. You still do, always and forever.

smile ✦ peter parker

summary : as the adopted daughter of none other than tony stark, you have a myriad of responsibilities. babysitting peter parker probably wasn’t supposed to be one of them. not that you’re complaining.

word count : 4.7k (also known as the longest thing I’ve ever written)

author’s note : ur adopted b/c not everyone is white and i don’t want anyone to feel excluded from reading this due to the fact tony is white (and yes ik there are interracial couples i just want everyone to feel included i want to make sure whoever wants to read this can without feeling weird about it b/c i know it is something that bothers people in the fanfic community okay bye enjoy my loves.)

   Tony Stark was a lot of things to a lot of people. He was the billionaire, he was the genius, the philanthropist, and the notorious playboy in his younger years. Most notably, however, was that he was Iron Man. He was marveled at by the entire world, him and the group of heroes that stood beside him; the Avengers, as they called themselves. To you, however, he was your father. 

   A terribly overprotective one, at that. 

  Of course, this was only to be expected of a father, even a foster one, but the lengths the man went to in order to keep his only daughter out of whatever he deemed trouble were rather extensive. You rarely ever left the Avengers tower, and if you did you were accompanied by a team of people you could only describe as rip off Secret Service men. Sometimes, Natasha would replace them, or Steve, but that was a rare occurrence. You were homeschooled by the best tutors his money could pay for- this particular move was less about refining your education and more about keeping you away from any boy in the five boroughs. 

   You chose to spend majority of your time reading in your room and training, always wary of anyone who approached you about being a friend. Your surname meant everything to people, especially the girls that wandered around Manhattan desperate to become the bestie of the daughter of the richest man in New York. You loved your dad with all your heart, but the stigma that ran with the Stark name would never stop irritating you. 

   That, and the impromptu plans he threw at you on a regular basis. 

   “Miss Stark, your father is requesting access to your room. He knows you hate it when he barges in.” Vision drifted into your room without warning, making you jump. You yanked your earbuds out of your ears, giving him a look. 

   “I hate when anyone barges in, Vision. That includes you, too.” You pushed your chair away from your desk, placing your pen on the desk and shutting your notebook. “Tell him he can come in if he lets me become an Avenger.” You raised your voice at this, knowing he would hear you. 

   “He says that he’ll consider it if you let him in.” 

   You raised your eyebrows. “Touché.” You motioned for the door to open, and your father walked into the room, immediately taking his pristinely polished shoes off and lying down on your bed. You stared at him.“Dad, it’s not cool to wear sunglasses inside. You look lame.” 

   Tony Stark rolled his eyes at you. “It’s called a look, sweetheart.” You laughed, pretending to nod in agreement. He placed his hands behind his head as you spun your chair back around to your desk. “What are you working on?” 

   “Something for Bruce,” you muttered, pen cap between your teeth as you continued to jot down important points from his numerous lab reports. You were going to have to hand in a full analysis of his findings for your end of term science paper, and he was more than willing to aid you. “Science report.” 

   “My daughter, beautiful and intelligent, my flesh and blood,” Tony declared proudly. 

   “Dad, I love you to the death, but I’m still not your biological kid,” you smiled all the same, though, and he knew behind the tough exterior you were happy to hear his expressions of admiration. 

    “Who needs a biological kid when I’ve got this great, wonderful adopted one right in front of me.” 

   Not looking up from your notebook, you said, “You’re really laying it on thick today. I’m all of those things, obviously, but I know you want something. So, what is it?” You paused, then said, “Thank you, by the way.” 

   “You sure we’re not related?” He sat back up, clasping his hands together. “What do you say about Germany?” 

   “Nice enough place I guess, interesting history, why?” 

   “I kind of need you to go there for two weeks with me.” 

   With a groan, you dropped your pen and held your face in your hands. “Another surprise trip? Dad, I have school. I have homework! Do you see this?” You held up the thick stack of reports from Banner’s lab, waving them around. “This is gonna be, like, my life’s work.” 

   Tony shook his head. “Kids these days and their homework. Seriously. When I was at school I would have taken any opportunity to shirk my responsibilities.” 

  “You did do that.”

    He waved his hand. “Technicalities. Anyway, as you know the Avengers have been disassembled. Sokovia Accords and all that bullshit. I assume you’ve been keeping up?” 

   “Hard not to.” It was true. Anything in the news was about the great split of the infamous team, Captain America vs Iron Man. It was impossible to turn on the television without hearing about it. And, considering you lived underneath the same roof as half of them, it was quite literally not an option to be ignorant to what was going on. 

   “Good,” he grinned proudly again. If there was one emotion that the man felt whenever he was around, it was proud. Nearly everything you did made him beam with pride, and if you had been placed into an actual high school, there was no doubt in his mind that the person at the top of every single class would be you. You excelled no matter the circumstances. “So, to sum up, there’s gonna be a big showdown in Germany. Western style, naturally. Guns blazing and everything.” 

   Your eyes lit up and you nearly flew out of your chair, rushing over to him. “Oh my god, are you finally gonna let me fight? You’ve seen my training, right? I’m getting so good. I’m like, practically Natasha level good. She’s been showing me that move where I can snap people’s necks with my thighs and-” 

   “First of all, your thighs are not going around anyone’s neck, so jot that down,” he interrupted. Your enthusiasm visibly deflated. “I need you to kind of watch over this kid who’s coming with us. He’s from Queens. You love Queens.” 

   “You’re making me babysit?” You flopped down on your bed, staring up at the ceiling. “C’mon, dad, I’m sixteen. That’s practically an adult. I think I should be allowed to fight this time. I’m Avenger worthy.” 

   “Practically an adult is not the same as literally an adult, as in over eighteen.” You groaned again. “Don’t call it babysitting, anyway. He’s your age. Well, he’s a few months younger, but that doesn’t matter. Just call it… hanging out with a good kid that’s fighting for your dear old dad and making sure he doesn’t get into trouble in Germany or annoy Happy too much.” He patted your knee, standing up. “We leave in the morning, kiddo, so pack up.” 

   “How come he gets to fight if he’s younger than I am?” 

   “’Cause he’s not my daughter. Goodnight, light of my life.” He kissed your forehead before leaving, giving you another encouraging smile.

   “Goodnight, pain my ass,” you grumbled as he left. He popped back in, a stern expression on his face. “If I watch your new protégée can I become an Avenger?” Tony rubbed a hand over his eyes. Teenage girls were exhausting. 

   “We’ll talk about it.”


   You’re sitting at your breakfast table with suitcases piled next to you when Peter Parker strolls into your life with happiness in his every footstep because he is just so, so glad to be there. You’re spooning cereal into your mouth when he sits down directly across from you, a video camera cupped in his soft looking hands and the little red button clicked on, meaning that he is recording you. You place your spoon back into the bowl of milk that is dusted with cinnamon sugar from the Cinnamon Toast Crunch you’ve been eating for the past ten minutes. 

   “Do you mind?” 

   “Mind what?” He asked, peeking up from behind his camera. You gestured toward it, wiping your mouth with your sleeve. 

   “The camera. I’m kind of still in the middle of eating breakfast in my pajamas,” you leaned forward, switching it off. “You must be the Spider-Boy.” The chestnut haired boy feels a blush creeping up his neck and settling along his cheekbones when you say that. 

   “Oh, did Mr. Stark tell you that?” He rubbed the back of his neck, laughing awkwardly. “Um, it’s Spider-Man, actually.” He mumbled the man part, knowing fully well that he didn’t look like much of a man in the eyes of anyone, his eyes casting down as he fidgeted with the strap on his camera. 

   “Oh good,” you nodded. You took another spoonful of cereal. “I like that better. Nicer ring to it.” You grabbed your box of sugary breakfast and pushed it toward him, an offering. 

   “Huh?” He was a bit dazed. He stared at the box in front of him and then realized he had been doing that for far too long of a time to be considered normal. “Oh, right, um, sure, thanks!” He opened the box and took a handful, shoving it in his mouth. You kept eating your cereal, silently staring at the bowl and willing yourself not to laugh at the boy in front of you. With all his nerves, he was still a bundle of energy and cheerfulness, and, well, let’s face it, he was sort of adorable. “So, you think my name’s cool?” He tried to sound suave, charming, as he said it, tried to smirk at you, but he stopped when he realized that he looked stupid.

   You gave him a half smile. “It’s pretty good.” His face positively lit up with happiness to be taken seriously, and you knew the feeling too well. You stuck out your hand. “Oh, forgot to introduce myself-” 

  “Y/N Stark, adopted daughter of Mr. Stark, probably the smartest girl in all of New York and, uh, correct if I’m wrong but… Black Widow’s best student as well as Bruce Banner’s apprentice.” 

   You gaped at him. The blush he had been sporting crept up to his ears and made his nose turn the shade of a strawberry. “Well, uh, yeah,” you said, flustered. “Should I creeped out or flattered?” 

   “Flattered, please.” The genuine worry in his eyes as he leaned forward made you laugh. He had an endearing personality. 

   “Flattered it is.” You watched the slow sigh of relief leave his mouth, his hands flying up the mess of hair atop his head and fixing it distractedly. Your dad walked into the room, and Peter practically fell out of his chair trying to stand up and seem presentable. Your slouch was indicative that you didn’t care much. He was just your dad. “Morning, pops,” you slid the box over his way.  

   He frowned at it.” Y/N, that stuff is crap. I don’t know why you eat it.” 

   “Wanda and I like it,” you said defensively, a slip of the tongue. You knew your dad was going to get annoyed at the mention of the Scarlet Witch, who had evaded and ignored his attempts at keeping her powers under control. “It’s good. High quality. Right, Peter?” You whipped your head toward him. 

   He felt his heart give a little tug. He grabbed the box out of your hand and shoved more cereal in his mouth, the cinnamon sugar sticking to his lips. “Yeah, Mr. Stark. Best stuff ever,” he said through a mouthful of it. Tony gave them an amused glance, picking up your two heaviest suitcases and beckoning you both to the landing strip. Peter swallowed his food. 

   He didn’t even like Cinnamon Toast Crunch that much. He was just thrilled that you knew his real name.


   Everything about this kid was infuriatingly dorky in the cutest way possible. You came to this conclusion as you boarded the jet with ease, sitting in your usual spot by the window and greeting Happy with your typical friendly smile and idle chitchat. Peter stumbled onto it with awe written across his features as he stared around the place, touching nearly everything much to Happy’s dismay. 

   “Haven’t you been on a plane before?” The man asked, growing irritated with the way the kid was filming everything. You saw Peter zoom in on Happy’s face and grinned out your window. 

   “Nope, never!” Peter exclaimed, his video camera still in front of him as he captured every detail of his trip. 

   “Well, sit down so we can take off,” Happy said gruffly, grabbing Peter’s shoulders and forcefully placing him into a seat. 

  Peter sat still for a moment, then hopped over to the seat next to you. He placed his camera in front of him on the tray table. “Y/N, smile for the camera. I’m recording.” You looked at him, then turned to the camera and gave it a deadpan stare. You even threw in a slow blink. “Good enough,” he shrugged. He kept it recording as he shifted in his seat so that his entire body was facing you, his chin resting in his hand and his elbow on your armrest. His gaze was sort of nice. “So, Miss Stark, I have a few questions.” 

   “Um, okay, shoot,” you closed your book that you had open on your lap. “I’m not that interesting, just so you know.” 

  “I think you’re interesting,” he assured you. You heard Happy let out a choked laugh at Peter’s flirting attempt, but it was just another thing you found sort of lovely. It was a genuine compliment. “What’s your favorite subject in school?”

   You’d been expecting the typical what’s it like being Tony’s daughter spiel, and you were pleased to get an actual question about yourself for once. “I like everything, I guess. I kind of love school, but I don’t go to a conventional school, so. Training is cool, I like that a lot.” 

   “You train with Black Widow, I have to ask- can you show me some moves? I need to refine my technique before the fight,” he explained.  

    “Do you wanna learn how to crush people with your thighs?”

   “Wow! Do you think I could? Could you teach me? That’s so cool,” he beamed, turning to the camera for a split second with an overexcited look. 

   You pursed your lips, staring out your window for a minute. You were up in the air by now, and there was long flight ahead of you. “Maybe. If my dad is okay with it. I have to check.” Peter looked confused, 

   “Why wouldn’t he be?” 

   “He’s, you know, really overprotective.” You put your first against the cheek, leaning the same way that Peter was. You sighed. “I don’t have a lot of friends. Which is fine, but I can’t even attempt to go make any because I have a whole freaking SWAT team on my ass the minute I step out of the tower because he’s so worried about my safety.” You let your head hit the window, your eyes rolling skyward. “And that makes no sense because-” 

   “You’re really strong and stuff. You can protect yourself,” Peter finished. 

    “I think you know me a little too well, Peter,” you said, poking him lightly in the arm. “But… yeah, exactly. I don’t really get to do anything fun. I don’t have adventures. Sure, reading is fun and studying is fun for me and training is great and I love hanging out with everyone in the tower but I’m still a teenager. No fun for me, though. My life is pretty boring, sorry if that makes your little video diary suck.” You stuck your tongue out at his camera.  

   “No worries,” he said, taking it off the tray table and turning it toward you. “Tell me every boring detail, Miss Stark.” 

   “As long as you stop calling me Miss Stark.” 

   “You’ve got a deal.” 

   It was a seven hour trip, and you both passed out by the three hour mark after Peter had pried every excruciating detail from your life out of you. You hated sleeping on airplanes, but your head was slumped against his shoulder and his arm was knocking against your own and his sweatshirt was as soft as pillow. You remembered the shy glance he had given you just before you knocked out on his shoulder for the remainder of the flight. He had a sweet smile. 


    Peter filmed absolutely everything. He filmed himself getting off the plane and then filmed you getting off the plane and nearly shoved the camera in Happy’s face until he threatened to break it and Peter backed off. He radiated enthusiasm. “Look at this, and this, and this, oh shit wow that’s so cool look at this! Oh man this is good stuff!”

   “Peter this is literally just the airport how am I supposed to take you around the actual city?!”

   “OH WOW Y/N have you seen this!” 

    “Yes, Peter!” 

     He zoomed in on your face, your devoid of emotion look appearing again. “Are you ever gonna smile for the camera?” He gave you a pout, doe eyes and all. You turned away. 

   “No. I’m supposed to be babysitting you, please be behave.” You touched your fingers to the bridge of your nose, dragging Peter to a couch. “Please sit. We’re getting the hotel reservations checked.” 

   “Do they juice boxes? I’m really thirsty.” He was just trying to make you laugh at this point, and annoying you was kind of funny for him. You let out an involuntary chuckle when he pretended to claw at his throat, throwing himself on the ground. 

   “I’ll make sure they have juice boxes for you, Petey. You’re such a seven year old, geez.” You pretended to gag. 

   Looking offended, Peter replied, “I’m actually twelve.” 

   Jokingly, you said, “You’re a twelve year old that’s going to get a punch in the face if you don’t settle down right now.” He stood up, directly in front of you with his light eyes and little grin, another feverish looking heat burning at his face. Nevertheless, he still said, “It’d be an honor to get beaten up by you.” 

  His voice, the sincerity he carried within it despite the ludicrous statement, made you feel those famed butterflies fluttering inside you. Maybe it was the way he looked into your eyes as he said it. Maybe it wasn’t. But something within you was starting to like Peter Parker, and you’d barely known him for twenty four hours. 

   Then again, it was hard to not like Peter. The kid was just so damn likable. 


   He had known it from the moment he first set his eyes upon you that day in the tower that he was a goner. If he had known it then, just from sitting down across from you with nothing to him but his lanky figure and a suit that resembled a onesie more than it did a costume fit for a hero such as he, he was sure of it now, a week and a half later. 

   Every day had been the same routine. He’d be up bright and early in the morning so you could help with him his training, teaching him how to utilize the suit your father had given him with ease rather than his usual tactic of jumping into everything blind. You’d been the one to help come up with nearly all of the web shooter combinations. He didn’t know all of them yet, or close to half of them, but he was progressing wonderfully. 

   After training, you’d give him the tour of your favorite places around Germany, close enough to where you’d both be able to get back to the hotel before dark. He filmed the both of you constantly, but you shied away from the cameras every time without fail. He couldn’t understand why, but he didn’t push. He just liked filming in general, and would accept you not smiling in any of his clips as long as you were still in there. 

   There was a beautiful sense of normalcy that came with hanging around Peter. You reveled in it. No one had ever made you laugh so hard with his ridiculous attempts at jokes or made you smile so much at his shy flirting skills that clearly needed to be revisited. 

   It was okay. You didn’t mind. And the fact that you didn’t tease him for it made him so, so happy. 

   Then, came the day of the fight. Peter had his camera out, he was dressed in his spidey suit, and you were standing there next to him dictating who he should and shouldn’t go after. 

   “Don’t go after Wanda ‘cause she could obliterate you in two seconds and Cap could crush you, too, but he won’t ‘cause he’s really nice like that. Bucky won’t care as much, though, so don’t do that- Ant-Man seems pretty cool and harmless but I don’t have as much intel on him and Peter if you get hurt you have to go hide somewhere-” 

   “I’m not gonna get hurt,” he said confidently. 

   You ignored him. “I’m gonna be in your earpiece, figuratively speaking, so I’ll hear everything you do and if you talk I’ll be able to hear you and you can hear me. So, just… keep me updated.” Peter took off his mask for a second, hair sticking up everywhere from the static. You leaned up, smoothing it back into place. Everything about him was soft. You wanted to curl up in it and stay there for as long as you could. 

   “I’ll be fine, Y/N, don’t worry,” Peter placed his hand on your shoulder. You felt your face heat up. 

   “I- I’m not worried.” You totally were. “I know you’ll be fine.” You didn’t want him getting hurt. “I just want you to be careful.” You didn’t want him to fight. 

   You could’ve sworn his face fell a  bit when you said you weren’t worried, but he squeezed your shoulder anyway. Without a moment’s hesitation, you threw your arms around him, your nose pressing against his neck as you took a deep breath. He stood there for a second without doing anything until he realized that if he didn’t hug you back, he’d be the dumbest person on the face of the Earth. You felt his surprisingly defined arms hug you back. 

   You didn’t look at him when you pulled away. You stared at the spider emblazoned on his chest, gave him a quick good luck, then departed from the room. You sat on your own hotel bed with a rapidly beating heart.

    The nerves were killing you. Ten more minutes. You opened your laptop and pulled up the system that would allow you to communicate across Team Stark. You were more focused on your dad and Peter. You tapped into your dad’s earpiece after placing the headset on. “Dad?” You spoke into the microphone. 

   “Hey, kiddo, everything okay?” 

   “Y-Yeah I just-” you took another breath. “Be safe. I love you.” 

   “I love you too, Y/N. Are you sure everything is okay over there?” 

   “Can you just make sure Peter gets out okay? If he gets hurt, bring him right back, please. That’s it.” Maybe it was a stupid request in someone else’s eyes, but you needed Peter to make it back in one piece. Tony Stark looked over at Peter Parker, crouching in his hiding spot and fumbling around with the gloves of his suit and gave the kid a knowing smile. Of course that was the one his  daughter fell for in the end. Perfectly fitting. 

   “I’ll make sure.” You knew your father couldn’t see the grateful smile on your face, the sigh of relief that fell past your lips when he spoke these words.

   Peter Parker, I swear if you make it out of this, I will smile like an idiot in every single one of your stupidly adorable video diary things. I swear. Just be safe.


 “Your black eye is awful,” you told him, dabbing at it with more cream. “Totally ruins your face.”

   “I think I look manly.” 

   “You think incorrectly.” You stepped back, your fingertips tilting his chin up so you could examine it further. “I think I got the worst of it. You did really well, Peter. Exceptionally well.” His face was glowing from your compliment. 

   “Can I get on that tape?” He asked excitedly, ducking under his hotel bed for his camera. You nodded, and he switched the camera on. He held out his arm so that you were both in frame. And you smiled. He forgot all about what you were supposed to say the moment that beautiful smile appeared there. “I- wow, Y/N.” 

   “What?’ 

    His stare was kind as it usually was. “You just-” he paused. “Your smile is really, really beautiful.” There was no way for you to turn away from the camera this time and you were left grinning like a lovestruck idiot at the boy in front of you, leaning up on your toes to press a kiss to his cheek. 

  “Thank you.” 

  You slept the entire plane ride the way you had the last time, curled up against Peter. This time, it was intentional. One of your arms was flung across his waist and his was wrapped around your shoulders, the sweatshirt he had came in now swaddling you cozily. There were two separate cars waiting for you. You stood in between them when the flight got off, the sleeves of his sweater hanging off your hands as you reached out to grab his. He felt you push a piece of paper into his hand. “You better call me, Peter Parker. I’ll be really upset if you don’t.” 

   He wrapped you suddenly in an embrace that lifted you off your feet just a little bit, his lips pressing against your temple. “I’ll call you every day.” 


   He kept true to his word. Every day without fail, your phone rang with a call from Peter, and you fell asleep on the phone with him more often than not. If you weren’t on the phone with him, you were texting him, and if you weren’t doing that, you wished that you were. The consistent communication was better than nothing, but regardless, you missed his presence. You missed the way you felt walking next to him as he explained why chocolate ice cream was so clearly better than vanilla. You just missed him. 

   “Peter?” You held the phone to your ear, nestled in your blankets already even though it was barely nine o'clock. His sleepy voice mumbled out a yes? “Would it be stupid if I said that I missed you?” 

  She could practically hear his wide smile through the phone. “Of course not. I miss you, too. So much. Probably more than you miss me.” 

   “That’s so not true!” She scoffed. 

    “Wanna bet?” His tone was mischievous, no longer the hoarse, pretty voice of a boy just waking up from his nap. “Open your bedroom door.” 

    “Are you joking?” 

    You hung up the phone, throwing back your covers and not caring one bit that your hair was a dripping mess from your shower or that you were wearing  a terrible set of hello kitty pajamas that weren’t meant for anyone over the age of ten based on the size of the top. You nearly tackled him to the ground when you saw him standing in your doorway, a happy squeal escaping your lips. You were surprised he even got in, considering your dad wasn’t home, but you figured Vision had let him in. Vision always had a way of knowing. 

   “Have I ever told you that you have a really pretty smile?” Peter’s lips hovered over yours, almost hesitant. You took the initiative to kiss first, your hands delving into his silk-like hair. There was no point in waiting anymore. Your noses bumped together clumsily when he tilted his head back, admiring. You could feel your whole being light up when he gazed at you the way that he did, in that admiring, careful, Peter way of his. 

   “Careful, Spidey,” You warned, hands on his chest as you stared right back up at him. 

   “Careful of what?” He quirked an eyebrow. 

   “You’re going to make me fall in love with you one of these days if you keep looking at me like that.” It was only the truth, and you were a honest person.

   “That’s sort of the plan,” he shrugged in a seemingly careless way, but he couldn’t hide it. He was an open book. An open book who loved you, and the way that you smiled at him when he pulled back his sleeve to reveal a web shooter, a strange glint in those brown eyes of his as he said, “You up for an adventure?” 

To be young

Title: To be young

Pairing: Reader x Peter Parker

Summary: Y/N has lived next to Peter since the 3rd grade and since has fallen hard for him, but Y/N doesn’t know he’s fallen just as hard. 

Word count: 2,145

Songs: Midnight City by M83, Uh huh by Julia Michaels

A/N: This is my first Imagine ever so I’m sorry for the grammar mistakes and if i messed up the point of view a little bit, I’m practicing and heres my first go at it! I hope you guys enjoy it! Also its not a concrete idea yet but i might make more parts to this 



  “Hey, MJ does Peter ever talk about me?” you ask staring across the lunch room at the boy you’ve had a crush on ever since you laid eyes on him in the 3rd grade. You hear Michelle sigh and close her book “Y/N just go over there and talk to him.” your eyes widen at your best friend for suggesting such a thing. “I can’t just go over there and talk to him without cause, plus..” you sigh sinking further into your seat at the lunch table “he likes Liz, remember?” Just before Michelle can get a word in about your lack of confidence towards guys, the bell rings signaling the end of lunch and beginning of the five minuet passing period to the next class.

You quickly gather your things heading out of the lunchroom and to your next class, gym.

“Hey, Y/N wait up!” you hear the familiar voice of Liz speak as everyone makes their way out of the locker rooms and into the main gym. You falter in your walk just a little hearing Liz say your name, you haven’t ever really been friends or even acquaintances with her since knowing that Peter has a crush on the girl. “Yes?” you smile as she slows her pace next to you “I’m having a party tomorrow night at my place, do you wanna come?” your mind goes blank for a minuet, Liz is asking me to her party? what? “I already asked Michelle if she could come and she said you were free so i thought i’d ask.” Liz practically read your mind, so Michelle is to blame, she’s gonna pay. “Yea, sure I’ll come, it sounds fun.” She smiles before she runs off ahead of you. “Hey Flash,” You hear her shout before she vanishes into the crowd of teenagers.

“Alright, well i think he’s a war criminal now but these are state required so lets get to work .” The gym teacher spoke after the video of Captain America ended waving his hand for everyone to get down from the bleachers and take their places on the mats.

You finally spot Michelle in the crowd of teenagers and grabbed ahold of her arm before she could lay on a mat. “Hey could we be partners?” You ask letting go of your bestie laying on the mat, “Mind if we take this mat next to you guys?” A voice that made your heartstrings tingle spoke, you quickly turn your head to see Peter laying down and getting ready to go his first sit-up. “No-not at all.” you blush and turn on your other side to come face to face with a book “Michelle” You groan louder than intended, “We’re suppose to be doing sit-ups.” You grab the book tilting it away from her face, Michelle sighs and turns on her back pushing her book up and down from her face “There happy, I’m exercising now.” She mumbled making you laugh slightly.

“Hey what about Spider-Man?” You sit up and whip your head around to the bleachers where a certain group of popular girls were sitting, “What about him Liz? You got a crush?” a friend of hers teased, “Well I mean yes he’s pretty hot but he’s also a hero you can’t leave him out.” You could see a slight pink shade her cheeks after she spoke.

“Hey, uh Peter knows Spider-Man!” Ned practically yelled from the mat next to you, what? how does Peter know Spider-Man? I mean maybe he got saved by him? But what? You were pulled from your thoughts when Peter spoke, “Well Uh  we-wel yes i do, because of the Stark internship i have but i’m not suppose to talk about it.” Peter spoke through gritted teeth when he ended his sentence. “Wait Penis Parker knows Spider-Man? And has a Stark internship? Wow this is too good, what other lies ya got?” Flash finally joined the conversation. You sighed and turned your attention back to laying down and staring at the ceiling till the end of the period.

“Well if you know him so well why don’t you invite him to Liz’s party tomorrow night?” Flash asked sarcasm clear in his voice, “Wait-wait Liz is having a party?” You perked up again at the sound of Peter’s slightly hurt voice. “Yeah, tomorrow night, my parents are out of town, you and Ned are more than welcome to come and you don’t gotta bring Spider-Man.” You could practically hear the smile in Peters voice when he replied “No-No yeah I’d love to come.” You rolled your eyes and tried to drown out the rest of the conversation.

“Okay, see ya tomorrow.” Liz spoke before the bell rang, finally. You make your way back to the locker room and change out of the gym uniform and into your regular clothes.

Well tomorrow night should be interesting, I wonder if Peter really knows Spider-Man you smile at the thought, that’d be fucking awesome.

Michelle and you took the bus together after school planning on having a sleepover and carpooling to Liz’s party the next day. “I can’t believe you already said i would go without asking me.” you lightly punch Michelle on the arm while getting ready for bed. “Hey what better things do you have going on tomorrow, staring at peter though the peep hole of your apartment again?” Michelle teased, you gasped and placed your hand on your heart pretending to be hurt by the comment. “Michelle that is an important activity and I cannot miss it.” You dramatically said and plopped down onto your bed for the night, the couch. Michelle and you always sleep on her couch for sleepovers, its big enough and comfy as hell.

“Oh whatever Y/N.” she groaned taking her place on the couch and turning on the tv. Within minuets your eyes start to get heavy, you finally give into the sleep tugging at you and fall asleep.


“Thanks for the ride!” you shout at Michelle’s dad before Michelle slams the car door shut. MJ and you start towards the front door already hearing the loud music coming from inside. “Michelle are you sure about this?” You ask grabbing her arm forcing her to stop and look at you “Look Y/N, when are you ever gonna do something like this ever again. Plus, its all apart of the high school experience.” She shrugged making her way to the front door and inside with you trailing behind her.

You were immediately greeted by Liz and shown the way to the kitchen “incase you need something to drink” Liz told you leaving you and focused her attention back onto the party. “Ok so now I Just wait for something to happen?” you spoke to yourself as you grabbed a red solo cup and filled it with water from the fridge. You made your way out of the kitchen and to the couch in the living room, where did MJ go? I’m like the only other person besides Liz she knows here so where - your thoughts were interrupted when your eyes met with the chocolatey eyes of the boy you’ve been waiting for all night.

You smile towards Peter earning a grin back from him before his attention was sent somewhere else, probably Flash shouting “wheres your friend Spider-man? I don’t see him..” You rolled your eyes and made your way over to the duo standing in the middle of the hallway, “Hey hey guys,” you nervously spoke “Finally made it.” you smiled over at Ned, his attention on the rest of the party and not you. “Yeah we got-” Peter got interrupted by a shout from the family room “If you wanna play a game come to the family room now!” you felt a hand wrap around your arm before you could protest you were in the family room seated next to Liz, Peter diagonally across from you with ned next to him and Michelle on your other side.

“Alright,” you heard Liz speak next to you “what game should we play.” a couple of hands flew up in the air and some people shouted suggestions. “How about Seven Minuets In Heaven?!” one voice shouted louder than the others, you looked over at Liz to see she was already ginning with a bottle being handed to her. “Seven Minuets In Heaven it is.” She quickly snapped her head over at you “Y/N, you spin first.” she shoved the bottle into your hand.

“No-no I’m really fine-” you didnt get to finish when you felt a sharp pain in your side from Michelle, your head spun to her side giving her a “what the hell!” look and receiving a shrug in response. You sucked in a breath, all apart of the high school experience right? you tried to reason with yourself. You put the bottle on its side on the ground and spun it, your heat begins beating faster and faster as it comes to a slow down. The bottle finally comes to a stop and your eyes rake up to where it landed, Peter Parker.

You gulped waiting for his reaction as people around him whopped for him but he just sat there eyes wide. “come one you too!” Liz sounded so gleeful and lightly shoved my shoulder for me to get up. Peter must’ve took that as a hint as well and stood up “Wher-uh What closet should we go to?” Peter asked clearing his voice. “the one right at the top of the stairs, we’ll make sure no one goes in.” Liz smiled at Peter and you while you made your way up the stairs. Oh god, what am i going to do, what if he doesn’t want to do anything with me? what if he kisses me and I’m not a good kisser or my breathe stinks- you were ripped out of your thoughts as the closet door was closed and Peter and you were left in the dark.

“uh we-we don’t have to do anything.” you whispered barely audible as you watched Peter set a timer on his phone for seven minuets. “Wh-why don’t we ask each other questions?” Peter asked making a blush creep onto your face, thank god this closet is dark and peters phone light is horrible. “sure-e” you nervously stutter, “you first.” you poke his chest earning a small laugh from him. “Okay, is it true that you have a 4.0 grade average?” You couldn’t help the laugh that  escaped your lips, “What?” Peter asked you could hear the confusion in his voice, “thats the question you wanna ask?” you placed your hand on Peters arm, what am I doing? I’m movign way too fast, “Is that bad?” Peter moved closer to you making you back up into the wall of the closet, your smile fading and a deeper bush replacing it. “uh-no no, I’d just rather not answer it.” You spoke truthfully, “alright,” you could see the smile form on peters face as he inched closer to you.

“your turn.” he whispered making your breath hitch in your throat, he’s so close, if i just move forward slightly i’d finally have my first kiss and with the guy of my dreams, you thought. “you got a question yet?” Peters smile started fading looking into your eyes, “uh- yes, did you really make your own computer?” your eyes scanned peters, he’s so close you can see his beautiful brown ombre iris’s, dark brown to a slightly lighter brown. Your breath hitched in your throat again as Peter flashed his eyes down to your lips for a split second. You start to lean into him, closer and closer to his face when your lips just barely graze each other and then Peters phone goes off.

He jumped back slightly from the sudden noise and looked down at his phone, “Has it already been seven minuets?” You laugh slightly feeling embarrassed for getting so intimate with Peter. “No..” he paused looking up from his phone and into your eyes “But i gotta, I’m really sorry Y/N, I gotta go.” He shook his head slightly before opening the closet and leaving you behind. you stood there shocked, not able to move. Peter and I almost kissed was all you could think as a deep blush crept back onto your face.

You exited the closet and went to see if you could find him at the party anywhere. you got a few weird looks after asking some people if they saw him anywhere but no one could help, not even Ned knew where Peter went.

“Well it’s too bad, we didn’t even get to see his ‘friend’ Spider-Man.” Flash spoke sarcastically to you, you just turned around to go look for MJ and tell her about what had happened, how you almost kissed your life long crush and how he almost kissed you back.

Dating Peter Parker Would Include.....

Homecoming spoilers. Pin for later when you’ve watched the film. :) I repeat, spoilers. SPOILERS.

  • Being his best friend, aside from Ned, of course.
  • Living just across the hall. It was actually how you two met back in the day when he used to visit Aunt May and Uncle Ben.
  • Struggling and mourning the loss of Uncle Ben, because let’s face it, you adored those two with all your heart. (They used to babysit you whenever your parents needed a last minute babysitter)
  • Rubbing the fact that Aunt May loves you more (even though she loves you two the same) in Peter’s face.
  • Enduring all of Aunt May’s larb jokes whenever you join them for Thai.
  • “I larb you, Peter. And I larb you too, [Y/N]
  • “Okay, Aunt May…..enough.” 
  • “What? You don’t larb me? Am I too lame to be larbed? Too cool to larb your awesome aunt? Not enough larb to go around to your good ole aunt? Saved all your larb for you one true larb, [Y/N]? Huh? Hm?”  
  • “Uh….we larb you too?” 
  • “Thank you, [Y/N]. At least someone larbs me.” 
  • Being completely supportive of Peter getting an internship with Tony Stark. 
  • Offering to help him with his internship.
  • Getting slightly offended that he doesn’t want help.
  • “Am I not smart enough to help you?” 
  • “What? God, no. It’s not that…..it’s um….I just have to do this on my own, that’s all. You know, no help. Strictly myself….” 
  • Competing against him with academic scores. 
  • Being extremely competitive with each other when it came to exams.
  • Going back and forth on having the highest grade.
  • Talking about going to the most prestige college and then changing your minds because you two could never leave Aunt May. 
  • Putting up with Ned being needy. 
  • “Ned….this is a date….between two people.” 
  • “Oh cool, I love pizza. I’ll just sit down right here and take a slice.” 
  • “Ned….” 
  • “Yeah, so anyway, you two should come over and help me build my lego deathstar. It’s legit.” 
  • Bickering with Ned, constantly. (But, loving him just as much as Peter)
  • Getting along great with Michelle. 
  • Roasting Peter and Ned into oblivion with her. 
  • Like full on roasts. It’s fantastic how long you and Michelle can go. 
  • I mean, it’s almost not fair how hard you go. 
  • But, in the end, Peter loves you and is sort of relieved that you get along with the people in his life. 
  • Movie marathons.
  • Cuddles for days.
  • Like the kind of cuddles that make you all warm and fuzzy inside.
  • You know, the ones where you just sigh happily in his arms and think that Disney World ain’t got shit on being the happiest place on earth. 
  • Netflixin’ and chillin’, (if you know what I mean, wink-wink) Forgive me, I forget that’s he’s fifteen. No sir, keep that in your pants now, you little rascal. And you? Don’t be puttin’ out, miss. 
  • Geeking out over Star-Wars, Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter, etc.
  • Going to Comic-Cons and dressing up.
  • Building and experimenting to the point where Aunt May and your parents scold you two for almost blowing up the complex.
  • Although, it’s not like you actually could blow up a building to that magnitude. 
  • And after the fire department threatened to arrest you two, you put an end to experimenting. 
  • Peter making you a playlist on your ipod. 
  • Listening to it all the time because you just love the songs he chose. 
  • No seriously, this playlist makes your heart stop with every song.
  • Peter always getting you your favorite muffin for breakfast before school.
  • He’ll even leave it at your front door in a cute little handwritten paper bag if he’s sick for the day.
  • Always being told he loves you.
  • Because, you’re the best thing that ever happened to him. 
  • You being embarrassed when he tells random strangers that he loves you. 
  • Like, you’ll be walking down the street and he’ll look at the old lady walking her yorkie, “Excuse me, m’am. But, I just want you to know how much I love this girl right here.” 
  • Peter.” 
  • Then flagging down a taxi to tell the driver too. “Hey, yeah no, I don’t need a ride. Just wanna tell you that I love my girlfriend.” 
  • Peter even telling Happy who always responds with, “Can’t wait for the day she leaves you.” 
  • Him keeping his double-agent life a secret.
  • Because he doesn’t want you to get hurt. 
  • Constantly wondering why Peter’s free time is slowly diminishing. Because you can’t quite believe the internship was that demanding.
  • Worrying that Peter was going to break up with you. 
  • Peter finding out about your worries through Michelle. (Who threatened to skin him alive should he ever hurt you.)
  • Taking a night off from his “internship” to take you out.
  • “Peter….we’ve been on the train forever.”
  • “Have a little bit of patience, [Y/N].” 
  • “Where are we going? Does Aunt May know you’re out right now? How much longer? Is this going to be forever? Are we running away from our problems? Running from being millennials and trying to fit in with society? I didn’t pack anything. How are we going to survive the outside world?” 
  • Peter intentionally ignoring your million questions by putting his headphone in one ear and other in yours. 
  • Playing your favorite song to keep you quiet.
  • Realizing he’s taking you to Central Park. 
  • Almost on the verge of tears when you find out that he organized a candlelit picnic under the stars. 
  • Seeing Ned in the distance as he walks away and knowing that he had a hand in it.
  • Smiling and feeling secure that Peter is here to stay.
  • Getting a weird feeling that he’s still hiding something.
  • Unsure of how to go about asking him what he’s hiding because you don’t want to cross a line.
  • Michelle not caring and confronting him before coming back to you and confirming that he is hiding something because of the way he acted.
  • Feeling uneasy but forcing yourself to believe that Peter would tell you everything and anything because you two were on the same level and understanding about your relationship.
  • Using the Washington D.C. trip to curve your mind from it.
  • It failing when Peter decides to re-join the decathlon team. 
  • Forcing yourself to ignore the gut feeling that Peter is hiding something when you asked him why he decided to re-join.
  • Peter being completely oblivious to your uneasiness.
  • Pushing it to the back of your brain when Liz scolds you for not having your head in the game.
  • But it coming back when Peter doesn’t show up for the decathlon. 
  • Corning Ned and demanding where Peter is and why he isn’t answer his phone. 
  • Getting irritated when Ned stumbles over his words. 
  • Becoming so upset that you tell Ned to tell Peter that he better have an explanation or else they would be over. 
  • Visiting the monument with everyone with the exception of Peter (obviously) and Michelle who passed on the tour. 
  • Ignoring Ned when he tries to talk to you.
  • Liz concerned that you were upset and asks if you want to talk about it.
  • About to confide in her when the elevator of the Monument starts to malfunction.
  • Peter freaking the hell out when Michelle screams, “My friends are up there!”
  • Panicking and pleading Karen to help him find a way to save you and everyone else.
  • Trying to stay calm even though your heart is about to flip out of your chest.
  •  Getting mad all over again because you were going to die pissed off at your boyfriend. 
  • Spider Man saving you just in the nick of time. 
  • Being so traumatized over the ordeal and Peter not being there, you lash out on him when he finally decides to make an appearance. 
  • Michelle shaking her head, “You messed up, dude.” 
  • “[Y/N], wait! Please, I can explain.” 
  • “Explain? Explain?! I’m going to need a whole encyclopedia of an explanation, Peter. Can you give me that?
  • Ned trying to diffuse the situation. 
  • Getting even more pissed off and breaking up with Peter.
  • Michelle whistling (because she didn’t see it coming), “Man, that’s rough. You gonna be okay? Actually? I don’t care. Bye.” Running after you to make sure you were going to be okay. 
  • Ignoring all of Peter’s texts and phone calls.
  • Having your parents stop Peter from coming into the apartment even though they felt you were being silly. (They adored Peter)
  • Sitting in your room with a pint of your favorite ice cream while watching stupid rom-com films. 
  • Crying when the guy gets the girl.
  • But telling yourself, you’re better than that and that you don’t need Peter.
  • Crying again because you need Peter. 
  • Hearing a knock on your bedroom door and getting mad because you just know your parents let him in. 
  • Yanking open the door to find a worried Aunt May.
  • “May? What’s wrong?” 
  • Her coming into your room, “I know you and Peter are fighting right now but have you heard from him?”
  • “No, I haven’t. I actually haven’t received any texts or calls from him today….” 
  • “Where is he? He’s been gone all day. I’m freaking out, [Y/N]. I’ve called every precinct and coroners office.” 
  • Being speechless because it is very unlike Peter to not check with Aunt May. 
  • Her on the verge of tears, “I can’t loose him too.” 
  • Grabbing your jacket and your phone, hugging Aunt May tight and telling her you’re going to find him. 
  • Spending hours before finding him sulking in hello kitty pajama pants and an awful touristy tshirt. 
  • Awkward tension as you text Aunt May and telling her you found him and that he was on his way up.
  • Knowing that there was something wrong but not wanting to engage because you were still mad at him
  • Eventually breaking because you still love him.
  • “I lost the internship with Tony Stark……” 
  • “I’m so sorry, Peter. I know how much that meant to you.” 
  • “Yeah…..” 
  • Letting him go. 
  • Regretting not hugging him or comforting him. 
  • Going back to your apartment to sulk and eat another pint of ice cream. 
  • Turning on the television to torture yourself with more rom-com’s. 
  • Witnessing Spider Man and Iron-Man save a bunch of people on a ferry.
  • Dropping your spoon and ice cream as it hits you. 
  • Running into your room to grab your journal. (you wrote daily)
  • Comparing the dates and times of when Spider Man was spotted and whenever Peter claimed he had the “internship”.
  • Finding a consistent pattern. 
  • It dawning on you that Peter Parker is Spider Man. 
  • “Holy shit.” 
  • “That little shit!” 
  • Running out of your apartment and across the hall.
  • Banging on the door. 
  • Aunt May answering with a concerned look.
  • Ignoring her and pushing past her to go straight into Peter’s room.
  • Busting in and then closing the door behind you. 
  • Marching straight up to his startled, adorable, puffy eyed self. 
  • Punching him in the arm and then covering his mouth when he lets out a yelp.
  • “You’re Spiderman?! Spiderman? Seriously? That’s what the internship with Tony Stark was about? What the hell, dude.” 
  • Peter being completely in shock that you found out. 
  • Standing there in complete silence for almost half and hour. 
  • Him finally explaining how it happened. 
  • Understanding why he didn’t want to tell you but still a little salty about it. 
  • “So…..are we okay now?” 
  • “……..” 
  • “[Y/N]?” 
  • “……..”
  • Baby.” 
  • “Fine. We’re okay but don’t you ever keep secrets from me ever again.” 
  • Everything going back to normal. 
  • Him showing you all his nifty tricks.
  • Feeling bad that he got his suit taken away. 
  • Trying to make him feel better by telling him he doesn’t need the suit. 
  • Ned being ecstatic that you know. 
  • Because now he can finally talk about it with someone other than Peter. 
  • Ned not shutting up about it. 
  • Peter showing you a different view of the city.
  • Planning romantic dinners on roof tops. 
  • Or well, kind of romantic.
  • It’s mainly subs and sodas.
  • But it’s the thought that counts, alright.
  • Making you promise that you will run away whenever something bad happens. 
  • Vowing that he will never let anyone hurt you for as long as he lives because aside from Aunt May, you are the most important person in his life and he does what he does to protect you. 

Fuck. I didn’t think I’d get this many people requesting to be tagged. This literally took me forever…..


@tryn25 @dailygubler @monsis-world @ucchan71 @igirl7plus-sky @adrianapoynter @lilspacefreckles @autumn-blessings @crazyfreckledginger  @iamaholland  @heyjaemin @ricvallerie @jor-da-na @beanie-boy-jones-iii @fandoms-enthusiast @actual–hobbit @unabashedlyswimmingtimemachine @im-a-screwedup-mess @narwhal-t-sharon @jennytorres7510 @multifandomtreasure @laurencacce @ouxiwen @al1forever @italianwarcry @herbeautifuldarkness @endergirlz224 @jjgirl4797 @fadingpoetryobservation @bananananananananapeel @lenanullings-x @crystalsinwater @iamabromieomie1234 @itzprincessss @momcanupickmeup @thesupercameraguy @quackson-clackson @queenvoiid @fandomobsessedcrazyfangirl @aimeepeeps @senpaipineapple @rubyeun @lotuseatermura @stranded-moonchild @snape-vape @visi0n-aries @boredashellokay @waywardtrashfam @dylansoneverland @akc-12 @stopthatslytherin @fantasticallyobsessedwithbeasts @teenageheartbreakersus @deathofthethrones @emilychatterbox @brokutooo @arielseviltwinsister @21skelotonpilots @sunny-day15 @quokkatrash @natalia-is-a-penguin @darkminds-collide @starspangledmadds @t-xy @biancalled @maybe-one-day-someday @captainaudreystark @weehawkendawngunsdrawnyouron @mcoolicann @shenanigans-and-broken-hearts @britishfancyturtlebraindead @mentamaree @fourtayl688 @cubitorx @dibs-on-pony @meamandaobrien @needs–a–life @1022bridgetp @toulose @papichulosebs @nich98-blog @letsalinathings-blog @lucyneedsmoremakeup @half-bloodbitch @plzimjustanegg @sweet-nightingale-171 @classiccandian @mayahart02 @sailrs @just-in-case-iloveyou @tomfeltonisbae @ringo-starr-is-a-star @5s0sssss-pizza @nickycookie @the-girl-on-the-mirror 

Bts ignoring you and you calling them “Daddy” to get their attention

A/N: Second day of everyday doing reactions with Li. I had a very stressful day, but I’m happy I managed to finish this. All reactions are requested. <3 Li


Jin 

As per usual Jin was too absorbed in thinking about the other members and their health in the form of a nice menu or a place to eat that won’t damage his boys health. That made him forget about you. It was uncommon for him so it made you feel strange-less appreciated. But there was something that always got his attention “Daddy…” the word slipped of your tongue so easily. Jin eyes widen at the beginning and you thought that he’ll react unusual but he didn’t. He just put back his calm face and opened his legs so you could sit on his lap. “Did daddy neglect his princess?”

Yoongi 

When Yoongi was working usually meant he waas working so he ignored everything around him. You too. And that was literally the only thing you didn’t like about Yoongi. But he had his weak points,one of which was “Daddy…baby girly is bored.” Yoongi would turn around an evil smile covering his face “Is she now? How sad I have work so she’ll have to find something to do for an hour and after that Daddy is hers. But until then,baby should behave.”

Namjoon 

Namjoon was from those people that were getting so absorbed in a book they forget everything around them. It was around 7 o'clock in the night when you understood that if you let him he’ll read all night long. So that called for a good distraction. And the only better thing to do with your free time is…“Daddy?” Namjoon didn’t even move his eyes from the book but his lips did. “What baby?” drastic times, drastic measures “I need you.” this time Namjoon did move his eyes hidden behind Harry Potter like golden glasses. A serious expression has taken his usually soft features. “Very good then. On the couch Y/N. Next to me. Good girl. Now open your legs. Good. Now leave it to me.” his hand made contact with my hot thigh and his eyes with the book.

*I know it’s a picture, but look at him*

Hoseok

Hoseoks attention was always on you when he was with you, so you didn’t understand why now, in your shared bed, cuddling,it was obvious his mind was somewhere else. And obvious the comeback choreography. You loved that he had so many roles in the group and the others called him the base. But you felt the pressure starts to gets the best of him"Daddy?“ Hoseok attention returned to you so fast. "Daddy is sorry baby. I’ve got a lot on my mind lately. I’m sorry. Daddy is in special need of cuddles and a little something else because this nightgown will be the death of me.”

Jimin

Jimins love and pation beside you was dancing. So it came natural to you that sometimes he would dance all night long, but you haven’t seen him in three days and when you finally saw each other he excused himself and asked you if he could practice while you were talking. That made you bratty af. “Daddy!” Jimin stopped moving, turned around slowly, licked eyes with you and you noticed their color changing from the warm hazelnut color to dark moca brown. “Are you being bratty Y/N? True, I haven’t seen you in few days and it’s true that it’s my fault, but I won’t tolerate that bratty tone. Have you forgotten your manners baby? I think we’ll have a learning session tonight." 

Taehyung 

Tae and shopping. Shopping and Tae. Galleries and Tae. Tae and galleries. Tae being aesthetic little piece of ignorant shit. Why did he choose a bratty princess like you? "Daddy…Y/N wants to go home.” you said pounting your face at him. “Y/N will wait half an hour.” said Tae with look of warning. It was way more thab half an hour and you knew that. Lately with all the tours, songs and varieties you were barely been able to see him and him not paying attention to you made you salty “Daddy!” Tae hand wrapped around your waist bringing you to his chest.“Be careful Y/N. My patience is wearing thin and knowing that I haven’t touched you in a while makes me go crazy. So behave little girl.”

*masculine Tae, with meat on his bones is a religion, get used to this gif*

Originally posted by sweaterpawsjimin

Jungkook

Jungkook training was the hottest thing on Earth. His hair was slicked back and little drops of sweat were painting his face. His shirt was nowhere to be seen and his expression was one of total concentration. But in reality his home fitness was taking away him from you. And that, no matter how much you liked sucking flowers on those muscles,was a problem. So one day it all became too much. “Daddy.” it slipped without you even realising it. Jungkook stopped in the middle of the push up, amazing you one more time. “Come here Y/N.” You walked to him and the difference was funny, but it was because of him laying on the floor. And in the next second he wasn’t. He was right in front of you. “Say it again.” his expression was wild and holding in the promises of all those times you couldn’t be together.


Reaction Masterlist

Sebastian Stan in bed

(a/n: also NSFW! this and a few more Drabbles will be coming tonight. If you requested an imagine, it is being edited now and will be up very soon! Thank you for the wonderful ideas! xoxo)


- territorial.
- he’s actually so mesmerized by you.
- LOTS of hickeys.
- praise kink™
- sp a n k i n g
- “aw, c'mon angel? You look so fucking good with hickeys!? what’s it gonna hurt?”
- “Sebastian, babe, people will see them.”
- “so? You’re my baby.”
- laying in bed and listening to music. his head is in your lap, watching you mouth the words jokingly. after a moment he’d just snap up and push you into the bed, landing his spot on top of you.
- “you’re so fucking hot.” whispered against your lips.
- he loves seeing you show off. you’re amazing and he wants everyone to know.
- S E X T I N G
- he’s busy a lot so you gotta do it somehow.
- he’s definitely a “send nudes?” kinda guy.
- he likes fucking you real slow and hard, milking every sound he can get out of you.
- he likes to experiment here and there.
- being tied up is fun but sometimes he can’t take it.
- he’s developed a kink for your tongue probably.
- okay but people say if you’re only having sex with one person for the rest of your life, you’ll get bored. NOT. TRUE.
- Sebastian loves lovemaking.
- he’s big on oral.
- mainly giving it.
- comments “you look like a snack” on ur instagram posts only to eat u out later that night.
- facials prolly.
- dirty talk
- “hey, angel. lemme hear that voice, huh? what do you want from me? what do you want?”
- aftercare.
- HE ALWAYS COMMENTS ON YOUR AFTERGLOW
- enjoys when you have a little trouble getting around the next day. Don’t worry, he helps you. That’s part of why he loves it. Getting to take care of you.
- he’s really into slow intimate touch
- but he does let a more animalistic side take over, especially after a long evening of teasing while you’re out at dinner.
- jk
- ur dinner

they call her maid maleen

for the first few trembling years of her life, she is a princess. she is the daughter to the king, born of his beloved wife and of her visage. her dark eyes have the appearance of a smoky quarts and her mother carefully twists her mass of black hair into a hundred small braids down her back. she is a beautiful, quiet child, and for a while all is well. they call her princess maleen.

then her mother dies. it seems as if the king is determined to bury his love for his daughter along with his queen. he moves her to a different wing of the castle, and refuses to see her. her tutors are let go, and the nobles’ children are no longer allowed to play with her. only the maids look after her now.

the king remarries. the new queen gives birth to a son, and maleen is forgotten completely, banished from a home she still resides in and a life she can now only watch unfold.

the maids take care of her, braid her hair and kiss the blisters on her fingers, teach her to scrub at porcelain and polish silver, to clean a fireplace and mop polished marble floors.

they call her maid maleen.

~

the king has a son by his new wife, and then a daughter. they are pale and fair-haired like their mother, with only their dark eyes to show they are the king’s children. but they inherit none of their parents’ beauty, have faces that don’t look quite right and bodies that get stuck between gangly and chubby and never settle into one or the other. princess gisella and prince jan are privately regarded as unfortunate products of a lovely union.

maid maleen spends long hours working, and has neither the time nor funds for creams to soften her skin or oils to care for her hair, has never used face powder or lip color.

maid maleen is twenty three years old, and the most beautiful woman in the kingdom.

her braids are wrapped carefully atop her head, but when she lets them loose they hang past her hips. her dark skin is made even darker thanks to long hours working in the palace garden, and her eyes have never lost that same curious light. she walks straight and strong, years of hard labor giving her muscles and definition to her body that she never would have had as a princess. boys and girls give her long, considering looks and flirtatious smiles, and nobles have to double-take when she passes them by.

no one speaks of it anymore. but maid maleen looks ever more like her beautiful late mother, has the same eyes as her father, and dressing in ill-fitting cast offs and running her ragged can’t hide the truth.

maid maleen is the king’s daughter.

she has accepted her life as a maid in the palace she was one day set to inherit, and tries to see it as a gift. she sleeps with who she likes, may marry whichever of the charming boys from the city who’s smile she likes best. in the maids who raised her she has more mothers than she has fingers, and perhaps she longs for the days when she was a small princess, when she was the apple of her parents’ eye, when the whole of their nation was to be hers to inherit.

but then the blacksmith’s daughter lets her hands linger a little too long on her wrists, and maleen knows that she won’t be sleeping alone tonight. there are some things that worth more to her than a throne she was born to. she doesn’t miss the little girl she used to be.

until.

tensions have always run high between their kingdom and the neighboring one – too many squabbles over borders, over trade agreements, over patrols, over anything and everything the kings can find a reason to be upset about, it seems like. so when prince wolfgang is sent over, the whole palace is abuzz. the prince seems determined to inherit a peaceful land, and is coming over to talk with the king to do it.

maleen does not care for princes. nor for nobles of any rank, in fact. she remembers how they turned on her, she sees the small acts of pettiness and cruelty they thoughtlessly inflict on their servants, and she wants nothing to do with it. commoners may not be as educated as nobles, may not have as many objects to call their own, but maleen finds she prefers their company to that of lords. she’s uninterested in this prince, which is perhaps why she’s the one that gets sent to his rooms. her moms can trust that she at least won’t fawn over him.

“sir wolfgang,” she murmurs, pushing open his door and giving a low curtsy, keeping her eyes trained on his mud covered boots. “is there anything you require?”

silence. she can only stay bent in a curtsey so long before she loses patience. she’s almost given up on him, is about to cut her losses and call it a night when he says, hesitant, “queen sabine?”

her mother’s name is punch to her gut, and her head snaps up at the sound of it, the rolling fire of her temper bubbling just below her skin. “i am maid maleen,” she snaps, then tacks on “your highness,” after a moment’s consideration.

his cloak is half unbuttoned as he stares at her with a slack mouth. she supposes he would not look unhandsome if he were not currently doing his best to imitate a frog. he appears to be only a handful of years older than she is, and if she were not furious she would be impressed that he remembers her mother well enough to see sabine in her.

“maleen,” he repeats, and for a moment she wonders if he will recognize her as well, but he only says, “my apologies. if you would help me with my cloak, i would be much obliged.”

she’s instantly suspicious. she’s met nice nobles before, ones that were considerate and remembered her name and thanked her when she brought them wine. but she’s never met a nice prince before – they’re always of the worst sort. “yes, your highness,” she says, and the cloak is soaked through and clinging, it’s no wonder he’s struggling with it. once she’s gotten it off she hangs it to dry, then goes back to him. she slaps away his numb, struggling fingers and undoes the rest of the buckles and loops of his overly complicated clothing. she’s gotten down him down to an undershirt and pants when his hands grab hers. she blinks and looks up. he has freckles dusting across his nose.

“this is inappropriate,” he says, but honestly she’s stripped a lot of nobles, it wasn’t weird until he took her hands and looked at her like no one’s ever looked at her before.

“yes, your highness,” she agrees, and takes a step back. she places his clothes in front of a fire, curtsies, and leaves. she can feel the weight of his gaze on her all the way back to her room.

wolfgang continues his diplomatic agenda, having long meetings with the royal family. after, maleen goes and tends to him, setting out his food and taking care of his clothes, straightening up any mess that he’s made. at first he’s quiet, and he just watches her, but he quickly discovers that maleen has opinions and thoughts and isn’t afraid to share them. soon they’re debating the finer points of trade routes and arguing the effectiveness of a sliding tax scale, and maleen comes to cherish the evenings she spends with the prince, likes the way he speaks to her and looks at her, likes the shape of his smile.

weeks in she enters his room, dinner steaming in her hands and eager to continue their conversation about state funded orphanages versus a state funded foster system. he’s pacing and tense, shoulder stiff. “wolfgang,” she sets down the food and wipes her hands on her apron, “is something wrong?”

“is it true?” he asks, and he’s not looking at her. he’s always looked at her before.

“is what true?” she flinches away from his coldness, is already preparing to retreat and hide and beg someone else to watch over him.

he turns to her, and she’s baffled by the mixture of hope and anger on his face. “are you the king’s daughter? are you princess maleen?”

she takes a step back, “i am maid maleen.”

“please,” he follows her as she steps away from him, and her back hits the wall. he stops when he’s almost close enough to touch. “my father sent me here with the goal to seal our new treaty with a marriage. he expects me to marry princess gisella. but if you are the daughter of the king – then he will allow me to marry you instead!”

“who says i want to marry you?” she retorts, but he gets on bended knee and she freezes.

he holds a hand for her own, and against every bit of logic, she gives it to him. “maleen, i’ve never felt this way about anyone. i was willing enough to enter a loveless marriage before i knew what true love is, but now i do, and i can’t go back. marry me.”

she wants to. she thinks she loves him. she hadn’t been planning to fall in love with anyone. “i am the king’s daughter,” she tells him, “but i am no princess. i haven’t been a princess in a long time.”

he brings her hand to his mouth so he can kiss each one of her knuckles, “then we’ll have to change that.”

~

wolfgang goes to the king to make his case, to return maleen to her birthright and allow her to marry him.

it goes even worse than maleen had feared.

her father is furious. he’s so angry at the audacity of this request that prince wolfgang is thrown from the kingdom. so incensed is he, that guards drag maleen from her bed in the middle of the night and throw her into a tower. the door closes shut behind them, and she bangs on it and screams but no one comes for her.

there are no windows, and only one door with a sliding metal grate in the bottom. she’s high in the tower, she thinks, from the number of steps she’d been forced to climb, but she stands on a dirt floor. the room contains only the bare minimum needed for survival, and nothing more.

once a week food is slid through the slot in the door. she has to be careful, because if she eats it too fast they will not provide more, she will just starve. days turn to weeks turn to months, and she despairs of ever being let out of this tower. months turn to years, and she gives up hope entirely of leaving this tower. she considers refusing to eat, killing herself slowly through starvation, because death is preferable to life locked in this tower.

one night there’s a scuffle, and shouting, and for the first time since she was shoved inside the door opens. there’s a guard standing there, and princess gisella tentatively steps inside. “maid ma – i mean, maleen?”

maleen stares. this is the first time she’s seen another person in years, and suddenly for all the screaming she’d done she can’t find her voice. gisella takes another cautious step forward, “maleen, please – we don’t have much time.” she holds out her hand, “come with me.”

gisella is sixteen now. although she’ll never be a great beauty, she’s grown into many of the features that she was once mocked for. “where?” she asks, but takes gisella’s hand and lets her lead them down the twisting staircase. anyplace is better than the tower.

“i’m to be married in a week’s time to prince wolfgang.” maleen feels a sharp pain go through her chest. had wolfgang forgotten her? their farce of a romance was such a quick, shallow thing. she was a fool to fall for it in the first place. “i’m not going to show up. you are.”

she stares, “what?”

“wolfgang started a war over father locking you in the tower,” she explains, “but eventually it got to a point where neither could justify it, so our father and wolfgang’s decided our union would mean peace between our countries, as intended. but i don’t want to marry prince wolfgang, and he does not want to marry me.”

“i don’t understand,” she hadn’t paid much attention to the girl when they were in the palace together, and she’s regretting that now.

they finally reach the end of the tower. it’s the first time she’s breathed fresh air in years. she tries not to get distracted by it, and instead focuses on the carriage to her left, and the pure black mare laden like a pack mule on her right. “i’m leaving,” gisella says, “i don’t want to be wolfgang’s bride because i want to be klaus’s,” the guard smiles, and he must be klaus, the princess is rejecting a prince to run away with a commoner. “there’s a map and everything you need in the saddlebags. the wedding dress is waiting for you at the castle. no one will know you’re not me until wolfgang unveils you, and by then it will be too late. he will marry you, and i will be gone.”

“why are you doing this?” she asks.

gisella shrugs, “you’re my sister, and father is an idiot. i want you to be happy, and i want wolfgang to be happy, and i want to be happy too. this way we all get what we want. our brother will be waiting for you in wolfgang’s castle. he’ll help you.”

maleen is speechless. gisella grabs her in a quick hug – the only one they’ve ever shared – and then goes to the carriage with klaus trailing behind her. “i’ll see you again, princess maleen!”

she doesn’t have time for tears. she gets on the mare, and rides for the palace of the neighboring land.

~

she makes it just in time. she sneaks into the castle the night before the wedding, ducking around servants until she find her way to jan’s door. she knocks, tentative, wondering if this was a mistake and all one elaborate trap. but the door opens and his face slackens in relief, “finally!” he pulls her inside, and sits her down. there’s lukewarm water waiting for her so she can clean herself, and jan stands with his back to her the whole time, outlining the wedding and how it will go so she knows what to expect the next day. “father isn’t here,” he assures her, “he didn’t want to leave the kingdom, so i’m here in his stead.”

“won’t you miss your sister?” maleen finishes washing and wraps herself in a soft blanket.

“when i am king, gisella will return,” he says confidently, “she will come home and bring klaus, and you will rule here with wolfgang, and all will be well. our countries shall be great allies when it is me and wolfgang on the throne.”

he’s only a year older than gisella, just seventeen, and maleen feels oddly old next to them, feels old next to these children who know what they want and take it and don’t let anything stand in their way.

“we need to get your hair rebraided,” he says, “you should look perfect tomorrow. it’s your wedding day.”

she stares, aghast. “that will take all night!”

“i’ve brought help,” he says, and sends a servant down the hall. the servant returns with a half dozen of the maids who raised her, and who crowd forward and hug her and kiss her cheeks and say how much they’ve missed her. princess or not, bride or not, to them she will always be their little maid maleen.

~

it’s clear gisella picked her wedding dress with maleen in mind. it fits her for one thing, and is clinging and heavy, and it must have looked awful on gisella, but on her it’s perfect. her dress is accompanied by white silk gloves and a thick veil so that no one can see her, so that no one will know she’s not the daughter of the king they’re expecting to be there.

wolfgang is at the end of the aisle, looking like he’s going to an execution, and it takes more self control than maleen was anticipating not to go running to him. she turns to him, and he lifts her veil. he sees her and freezes, mouth sliding open. she winks at him, because they just need to keep it together until they’re married, he just has to keep his cool for a few minutes and they’ll have won it all. wolfgang closes his mouth and says nothing about how this is clearly not the bride he was supposed to marry. they turn so none of the guests can see them, and the priest gives maleen a confused look, but with a glare from wolfgang he continues on with the ceremony as if nothing is out of place.

“you may now kiss the bride,” the priest says, after what seems like an eternity.

wolfgang grabs her about the waist, dips her, and kisses her soundly on the mouth. her veil falls off and she can hear the horrified and shocked gasps of the guests, and under that jan’s laughter. when they break apart, foreheads still pressed together, she whispers, “hello, prince wolfgang.”

he kisses her again, quick and sweet, and does nothing at all to disguise the joy in his face. “hello, princess maleen.”

and they all lived happily ever after.


read more retold fairytales here

firstly, feel free to request more french masterposts. 
flirting in french; god, how i would love to be smooth in any language.
seriously, if i could neal caffrey my way through france, that would be great. so, this is a masterpost on how to flirt in french. - i’d like to think this is pretty important - as this is part of socializing in any language. flirtation is a very different thing than “picking up.” picking up is a kind of hunting game with a very pointed and invariable goal: to be making out as soon as possible! think barney from how i met your mother challenge accepted. flirtation, at least in france, is a totally different thing. it’s a different culture, a different lifestyle. it’s a way of being in everyday life, and unlike picking up, it has no defined goal. sometimes the french flirt because it’s just delightful to do so. think salt to pepper relationship. allowing each one to check, and at different levels, if he or she still has some charm operating. 

i would say that simple is always best: merely walk up to your chosen girl or guy and say je vous trouve absolument charmante (I find you absolutely charming / beautiful. be classy and to the point. with that and mind, read on!

let’s learn some classic phrases to become a regular femme fatale, shall we?

so; why flirt in french?

  • well, french is a sexy language. not going to lie. 
  • it’s the planet’s most-hyped language of love.
  • reaching that level of fluency feels amazing.
  • it gives you that confidence. social confidence.
  • becoming a smooth talker feels nice. i want to be one, anyway. 
  • tired of searching for love in english? 

french learning and french flirting 

  • let’s face it: in france, (or in any country for that matter), nobody speaks like a textbook, the president, or a language learning site (i’m looking at you, duolingo). it’s great for memorizing the fundamentals, but lacks that extra step that stands between you and complete fluency. 
  • flirting is part of socializing - and linguistically (i don’t know, it helped with me) it improves retention. it’s also just interesting to learn! 
  • flirting is just well.. fun. even if it doesn’t go anywhere.
  • a bit of verbal charm isn’t always necessary : but in my opinion, it helps you sound more natural / at ease / friendly. 
  • i somewhat lack verbal charm (i’m very, very awkward in social situations) so i probably need this masterpost as much as anyone else (: 

the classics: make love last. 
this is based upon what i’ve heard at school / restaurants / bars. 
okay fine: it’s based on the movies i’ve watched too. 

  • j’ai envie de t’embrasser / embrasse-moi - kiss me.. annouce it - make your intentions known! i’d like to kiss you’ - okay, you could just kiss someone instead of letting them know. but i don’t know.. there’s something romantic about it? best with a longing, meaningful stare. 
  • je t’aime: i’m pretty sure we all know this one. best with someone you care deeply for, i wouldn’t say this on a first date - but if you’re the direct type : this can help you get from a to z pretty quickly. 

the simple compliments: short and sweet
using these with a flirty look / tone of voice (as i’ve seen amongst my friends) can do wonders. play with your expression while practicing these: it makes a difference, trust me. you can begin with (oh putain) to make it sound authentic. it’s not (really) a ‘swear word’ and people use it often. best used in an informal setting. example: putain, t’es toujours canon toi ou quoi?

you can also add trop ( = too). example: trop belle, trop mignon(ne).
you can also add tellement ( = so) example: t’es tellement belle!
you can also add si ( = so) example: t’es si mignonne.
you can also use grave ( = totally) example: t’es grave belle. 

  • t’es mignon(ne).
  • t’es belle (/beau), toi. 
  • t’es canon. ( = you’re smoking hot). 
  • t’es con(ne). ( = you’re an idiot) - i’ve seen this used a lot flirtatiously.
  • t’es drôle. ( = you’re funny)
  • t’es magnifique. 
  • t’es charmant(e). 
  • t'es coquin / coquine! ( = you’re such a tease.)

the ‘social and the flirty’ 
inspired by my class facebook chat and group. some of them are direct quotes (:
these can be used as compliments / or flirtatiously. depends on your relationship with the person you’re giving them to. 

  • cette beauté chaton, tu m’ éblouie. ( = you dazzle me with your beauty.)
  • une beauté divine. ( = a divine beauty or: you’re so divine.)
  • ouloulouloulouloulou. ( = you really have to hear this one.)
  • tu brilles de mille feux.
  • j'te pécho. ( = like the equivalent of ‘to pick up someone’ in english). 
  • bg, or beau / belle gosse ( = hot guy, hot girl). 
  • une petite merveille. ( = a wonder, someone to be marveled at). 
  • une bombe. ( = bombshell, someone pretty - same thing as ‘belle gosse’.)
  • le petit côté mystérieux femme fatale je kiffe. - je kiffe means i like. 
  • la beauté à l état pur ( = beauty at its purest form). 
  • dingue! ( = crazy, as in crazy beautiful). 
  • j'ai pas les mots.( = i have no words). 
  • wahhh, la classe! ( = classy!)
  • c’est fou, tant de beauté ( = you’re so beautiful, it’s crazy.)

flirting at a bar or restaurant? 

  • t’as d’beaux yeux, tu sais? the phrase ‘you’ve got beautiful eyes’ pretty much works in any language (though, i think it sounds extra gorgeous in french). the phrase actually comes from a french film called le quai des brumes. fair warning: this is an extreme cliché, : it’s basically the english equivalent of do you come here often? it can be said ironically, if you’re not the cliché type. best with a wink and a devilish smile (; 
  • je peux t’offrir / vous (formal) une verre ? : can i buy you a drink?
  • vous êtes célibataire ? mais comment est-ce possible ? - you’re single? but how’s that possible? 
  • vous venez souvent ici ? - do you come here often? ha, classic.  a phrase that transcends cultural barriers: “ the sentence could be followed up by complaints — about the bartender, about the clients or about how the bar isn’t as good as it used to be. a french tradition is râler, a sort of complaining. finding things to complain about is a way that many french people choose to bond with new acquaintances. this is not true of anyone.
  • t’as une miette (you’ve got a crumb) as you pretend to stroke something off of someone’s face, first with your fingers, then with your lips.
  • tu m’excites ! ( = you turn me on.)
  • “j’ai une première édition de ‘à la recherche du temps perdu.’ tu veux le voir ?” -  i have the first edition of “in search of lost time. (written by proust). do you want to see it?” in france (for me, at least) cultural knowledge is sexy. in America, we often ask if you’d like a nightcap. choose something cultural and intellectual in france, and you’re far more likely to get a oui.
  • je veux te revoir. ( = i want to see you again.) 
  • alors, ça roule? ( = how you doin’ - joey, friends.)
  • excuse-moi. est-ce que t’embrasses les inconnus ? non ? donc, je me présente. excuse me, do you kiss strangers? No? then let me introduce myself.
  • excuse-moi, j'ai perdu mon numero de téléphone. est-ce que je peux t'emprunter le tien?“ excuse me, i seem to have lost my phone number. could I borrow yours? 

let me know if you’d like to know more! you can never be too charming (:

Little Things

MASTERLIST

A/N: This is my very bad attempt at something cute, but you know… Fluff isn’t my best. Also a bit different from what I’ve done in the past, so feedback would be great. I messed up the months, I’m aware. 

Word count: 3,365

Pickering, Canada
April 2024

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I just wanted to belong

A/N: Happy Angst Appreciation Day round three, it’s a day late, but life happens. Reader is Dean’s 17 year old daughter who has a twin brother named Robby.

Dean x Daughter!Reader    Sam x Sister!Reader

Originally posted by sammy-samulet

You stood at the counter of the diner trying to decide if you should go back to the booth where your father, uncle, and twin brother sat, or if you’d have a better time alone at the counter. You’d gone up to ask for more napkins to clean up a spill that Robby, your twin had made. However glancing back you saw that they had waved down the waitress who your dad and brother were both flirting with.

With the roll of your eyes you took a seat at the counter; knowing you’d actually enjoy your meal if you weren’t near your father or brother.

You loved them both dearly and at one point your entire family was so close knit that your absence would have been noticed right away. However as you grew older the bond you shared with your twin and father began to disappear and once you started going on hunts with your dad and uncle, it all but vanished.

At first you told yourself that you were overreacting; that your father was just constantly worried about you, but as time went on you saw how close Robby and your dad still were, yet you remained on the outside.

It was something that your dad and brother both seemed oblivious to. Whenever you’d try to involve yourself in what they were doing they would send you away with some excuse as to why you couldn’t participate with them and soon you just stopped asking.

This never seemed to effect them, but it sure effected you.

Your father and Robby might not have seen what they were doing, but your Uncle Sam sure did. At first he tried to stick up for you, pointing out to Dean all the times it seemed that Robby and him would purposefully leave you out. Dean would deny it and after countless arguments with no change Sam stopped trying. Instead he became the figure in your life you so desperately wanted.

Still, there were times that Sam got sucked into whatever fun Robby and your dad were having; leaving you to be the outsider in your family again.

It was a role you learned to accept and gave up hope that it’d change.

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