um yeah i made a thing

tv shows: yeahhh,, uh,, i’m here for the *looks at smudged writing on hand* gltb thing?? yeah, we totally got you,, but um,, i left a casserole in the oven at home,, promise i’ll come back, for real, totally;:,,

books: lgbt characters? those are over there, through the Infinite Forest of Generic Dystopia. good luck though, few have ever made it out alive!

podcasts: fuk u guys, here’s 7 aroace characters, 5 genderfluid characters, 37 bisexuals, 54 healthy wlw relationships, actually everyone is lgbt sorry we don’t make the rules!!!

the best parts of the raven boys (featuring me crying)

- adam and ronan literally dragging each other on moving dollys behind the bmw like what nerds

- “if it had a social security number, ronan had fought with it”

- noah told them like 400 times that he was dead why was this news

- ronan being so extra about picking fights with declan. school? sure. monmouth? hell yea. nino’s parking lot? let’s fuckin go!!!

- the first thing blue ever sees ronan do is run into the light hanging above the booth at nino’s #clumsygay™

- ronan’s number on the nino’s bathroom stall door (honestly what the fuck)

- president cell phone

- gansey describing his friends as “the sulky one” and “the smudgy one”

- take a shot every time blue or adam call gansey condescending 

Keep reading

Lance is attractive

Fucking fight me on this Barbara ok hERE WE GO


• WHEN LANCE FLIRTS WITH GIRLS IN SPACE MALL THEY GIGGLE
- being a girl, who talks to girls, I know that girls don’t giggle unless they like it and are more likely to shoot poisonous glares at strangers who flirt with them
- if a girl giggles at a stranger who flirts with them she’s likely interested
- if she’s interested in a stranger it’s probably because he’s good looking

• LANCE TAKES CARE OF HIS SKIN
- the fandom had a fucking carnival with this fact okay there is a scene both in season one and in season two where Lance is wearing a facemask so we all know he’s got flawless skin

• LANCE DRESSES THE BEST
- he just does
- everyone knows this
- even 80’s Lance dresses the best

• BLUE IS ATTRACTIVE
- I don’t remember where I heard this, but apparently some social study drew the conclusion that when men wear blue they are generally received as more good looking

• PLAXUM KISSED HIM
- um she knew him for like a day or two
- made some battle plans with him and then suddenly decided smooching him up was the best course of action
- listen man,, people don’t go kissing other strangers just so show their appreciation, she was definitely at least SOMEWHAT attracted to him

• HE HAS SHINY TEETH
- yeah okay this is probably a stylistic thing but um
- I have more than one screenshot of Lance with a small sparkle on his teeth, usually when he smirks
- those things are pearly white and pretty af

• HE HAS THOSE MUSCLES
- did you see him in the cryo pod
- muscles are portrayed as attractive by your friendly neighborhood Media™

• HE IS TALL
- also portrayed as attractive by your friendly neighborhood Media™

• I AM IN LOVE WITH HIM
- guys I only fall in love with attractive people, trust me,,

• THIS HAS BEEN A PSA THANK YOU

• bonus Keith is also in love with him so I mean how many people falling in love with him does it take for someone to realize that he is a good looking motherfucker

inevitable realizations ☼ peter parker

summary : peter’s always been a little bit in love with you, it just took a difficult night and warm, ever comforting words for him to come to the realization. intelligent he may be, but he’s a clueless teenage boy before anything else.

word count : 2.5k

   It was eleven o’clock at night and, as per usual, you were neglecting the sleep you desperately needed in order to finish up the notes on your assigned reading novel that were due in just a few short hours. You were never one to finish tasks, especially menial ones such as homework, in a timely fashion. This was just the tip of the iceberg. You briefly took off your glasses, rubbing your tired eyes that were now struggling to focus on the words in front of you properly. When you slipped them back over your nose, glancing up toward your bedroom window that lead out to the fire escape, you saw the familiar face of your best friend peering in through the glass in a way that was only slightly creepy. 

   Peter knocked rapidly on the glass, waving at you in the typical, hyperactive way that he always had about him. You jumped off your bed, reaching out to shut your bedroom door before walking over to the bay window and unlocking it. A rush of cold winter air nipped at your face the minute it swung open and Peter Parker shoved himself through. Visits from him in this particular manner were common, especially after a day’s work of fighting crime throughout various parts of New York, but not usually this late- and never without a text to alert you first.  

    “You must be freezing,” you shivered, closing the window quickly. “How long were you out there?” Making yourself comfortable on your bed once again, you propped open your book, ready to force him into helping you study. He didn’t answer. Instead, he drew his sweatshirt closer to his body, sliding to the floor beside your bed and leaning his head against the soft duvet. His curls were sticking up in every direction when he pulled his hood away, his cheeks and the tip of his nose a brilliant shade of red, but not from the bitter chill that was sweeping mercilessly over Queens. 

   You heard a distinct sniff, then another, then another. His breathing, already shallow from the frantic climbing he had done to reach your fire escape, became even more labored. He pulled his knees to his chest to hide his face. He felt you press yourself against him, your arms around his shoulders and across his chest before he could pull away in embarrassment. Your glasses creaked when they pushed too far into his shoulder. Neither of you moved. You clung to him and he sat there, silently shaking and leaning into your embrace as if it were the only thing keeping him from falling apart. 

   “Hey, hey, shh, shh, Peter, you’re okay,” you whispered, rubbing his back. “I’ve got you, I promise. You’ve gotta breathe, though, okay?” He was always ashamed of his sensitivity, but he couldn’t help it. He was a sensitive boy and he cried easily and had an awful lot of anxiety sometimes. Today was one of those days, with good reason. He nodded stiffly, maneuvering himself to hug you back, face pressed into your shoulder this time. 

   “It’s… the anniversary,” he said, his voice broken. “One year.” Hollow. “One year since- since Ben. One year tomorrow.” 

   He pulled away, wiping his nose on the sleeve of his oversized sweatshirt. There were traces of tears still making their way down his cheeks, sliding across his nose and down to his lips. He tried to rub them away, too, but you caught his wrist in your hand. 

   “You’re not wrong or less of a dude for crying, Peter.” The way you looked at him, so lovely and caring and worried, made his heart cry out for the safety of your embrace again. “Were you at the cemetery?” You matched his stance and rested the side of your cheek on your knee, still carefully studying his face. 

   “Yeah,” he exhaled, placing his chin in his palm. “I’m gonna go again in the morning with May. Gonna miss school. I- I probably should’ve, um, stayed with her tonight but I…” he trailed off, “I needed you.” He said it as he said most things to you, with his soft tone of voice and his hesitance that made him, him. He never really noticed until now. 

   “What are best friends for, right?”  

    “Yeah. Best friends.” 

    Ignoring the odd way those two words slipped out of his mouth, you said, “I’m sorry, Peter. I know you loved Uncle Ben so much. I’m sorry, you don’t deserve this. You and May don’t deserve this.” You reached out to him, your hand gripping his without an ounce of doubt. You had small hands and he didn’t but he felt a thousand times better when yours found his. “I’m always here for you. Do you wanna talk about it?” 

   Surprisingly, he shook his head adamantly. “No, no.” He squeezed your hand. “I kind of, um, just wanna go to bed. Crying like a little baby really tires a guy out, you know?” He gave a weak laugh, a tiny grin, and you smiled right back at him before pulling him to his feet. “Can I use the bathroom?” He needed to wash the sticky feeling of dry tears off his face, rub the sadness out of his eyes. He wanted to be strong for May when he got back in the morning. 

   “Of course, just be quiet. Mom and dad are asleep.” You padded across your rug and opened your door a crack, holding it in a specific way so that it wouldn’t creak when you let Peter through. He gave you a grateful squeeze of the hand again before disappearing into the bathroom. 

    He splashed water on his face, staring up at his reflection, at the water dripping off his eyelashes and the curling ends of the hair that was plastered to his forehead. He rubbed at his face and took a deep breath. He wasn’t going to cry anymore. You had sufficiently comforted him for the night. Peter could breathe again. 

   Peter quietly walked back down the hallway and into your bedroom, watching for a second as you pulled spare blankets down from a shelf in your closet and arranged them on your bay window. You had cleared your bed of your school supplies and had left the covers open for Peter to crawl into without a second though. Which he did. Your covers smelled quite lovely, actually. It was the scent of your perfume that you wore often enough for him to recognize the scent, and he wanted to fall asleep under the inviting covers that were laid out for him. Then, he saw you sit atop your window, about to lie down. 

   “Wait, why are you doing that?” He got out of bed and took your hand for the third time that night, growing accustomed to the feeling of it. He pulled you over to your bed. “You’re not sleeping on a stupid window. That’s ridiculous. I’ll take the window.” He spun you around and ignored the protestant noise you made, gripping your shoulders and sitting you down on the bed. 

   “I’m not letting you take the window, either!” You argued, yanking him back down on the bed. He huffed, glaring at you in a teasing manner. “C’mon, just take the bed. You need it more than I do.” His glare dropped to his lap, an idea rolling around in his head. “What?” 

   “Y/N, how about we just both take the bed?” He said finally, lifting his eyes back to yours. He wasn’t sure what made him say it, why he didn’t just take the floor like he probably should have, but the words were out there in the world and there wasn’t a way to take them back now. You bit your lip, then shrugged, scooting over. 

   “It is big enough for the two of us.” You turned away from him, turning off your lamp and getting under the covers. You heard Peter slide in next to you, but your back was toward him until he poked you sharply. “What’s wrong, Peter?” 

   “Can you- um, well-” 

   You flipped over on your side, just barely making out his face in the darkness of your room. “Do you want me to cuddle you?” Though you said in a teasing sort of tone, you were silently quite pleased when he mumbled a reluctant yes. You moved closer, one arm going around his waist and the other underneath him. Your head was on his chest, listening to the resilient beating of his heart. He placed his chin atop your head. He focused on the sound of your steady breaths until you were sleeping peacefully beside him. 

    He was so grateful for you- the person who stood by his side throughout anything and everything. You, so strong and beautiful and brave and comforting in his times of distress. You, who never seemed to waver in your loyalty to him. You, the very picture of loveliness and a girl who he’d very much like to- 

   His eyes flew open, and he almost jumped away from you. He didn’t want to risk you awakening, though, so he stayed put, freaking out internally rather than externally the way he was prone to doing. He had been thinking of kissing you. That was what he was going to say. Kiss. The thought had come so simply to his brain it was like he already thought the same thing for years. Maybe he had. It wasn’t like he was blind. You were a stunning girl, even if you didn’t think so yourself, you were his best friend, you were practically perfect and Peter would be an idiot to not adore you the way that he did. 

   Adore, adore, adore. Oh, boy. Peter glanced down at you, sleeping in his arms, and confirmed what he had so stupidly never noticed before. His infinitesimal, brief affection for Liz Allen had absolutely nothing on his all encompassing love for you. 


   Peter bid you goodbye that morning at six thirty sharp, before either of your parents had woken up for work. Before he slipped out your window and into the cracks early morning sunlight, he had pressed a gentle, chaste kiss to your cheek. It was only the briefest touch of his lips to your face, but you had held your face, right in that spot, for practically the entire day. Ned had questioned why, but you brushed him off with an answer of exhaustion. 

   The day after that, Peter returned to school, dragging Ned off to the side as soon as he stepped off the train platform. He had waited for the other boy purposely, seeking advice. 

   “I have a huge, gigantic, terrible awful problem right now, Ned!” He exclaimed as soon as he saw him, throwing his hands up in the air. “I need help.” 

   “Psychiatric help,” Michelle supplied, appearing out of nowhere as she usually did before walking down the path to school. 

   Ned shrugged. “She’s not wrong.” 

   Peter, frantic, seized Ned’s shoulders and shook him. “This is not a roast Peter session! This a cry for help! Help me, Ned Leeds!” 

   “Am I your only hope?” Peter wanted to scream. 

   “This isn’t the time for Star Wars puns, either!” Not waiting for Ned to quip back that every time was Star Wars time, Peter said, loudly, “I’m in love with Y/N and I don’t know what to do!” He ran his hands in his hair, wanting to pull it out. “I just- I just realized the other night! Everything just kind of, like, clicked and I’ve been so stupid. I should’ve realized it before, but of course I didn’t and now I have no idea what to do!” 

   “Wait, dude, you seriously have never noticed this before? Are you kidding me? Peter, you’re supposed to be the genius of the school. I feel let down.” Ned shook his head solemnly. “Dude, everyone knows you love her. Even Flash. That’s why he picks on her all the time. He likes pissing you off and nothing gets under your skin more than someone messing with Y/N. She’s the first one you told about being Spider-Man, you go to her for all your problems, you practically pee yourself racing to be her partner for almost everything- not science because science is our subject, but still. I figured you knew you loved her and just didn’t wanna talk about it because she’s out of your league.” 

   “Hey! I am not-” He stopped. “So what if I am? That’s not even the point. The point is that I love her. Me realizing it was inevitable, even if it took me like eighty years to get there. Doesn’t matter. I’ve gotta tell her, right?”

   “You totally should,” Ned encouraged. “She’s definitely in love with you, too.” 

    Hopefully, Peter grinned. “You really think so?” 

    “Anything’s possible!” 

    “The reassurance you give me is suffocating, Ned. Stop before I die.” 

    That day in gym class, Ned and Peter went off to the side to pretend they were doing stretches while you sat with Michelle and conversed about literature for the first half of the period. Your conversation, however, soon led off into other directions. 

    “Hey, MJ, have you ever… I don’t know, been in love?” 

    Michelle raised her eyebrows. “Only with crushing the patriarchy. Why? Have you?” The intuitive girl already knew your answer, of course, but she was invested in you and Peter’s love story and was desperate to hear the truth from your own lips. 

   You played with the hem of your shirt, thinking. Peter and Ned casually inched closer, having been listening to the conversation for quite sometime now. They were unapologetically nosy. “I think I am.” 

   “With who?” Peter clasped his hands together, silently pleading with the universe to grant him this one wish. I promise, universe, I’ll never ask for anything ever again in my whole life if you just let this girl love me back I swear I’ll be the best Spider-Man there ever was and I’ll protect New York until I’m eighty five just please oh my god please- 

   “With Peter.” 

   The gasp he let out was involuntary, but you didn’t hear him. He turned to Ned, his expression of shock, as well as elation, mirroring Peter’s own. Suddenly, Ned stood, shouting for the entire gym class to hear, “Y/N! Peter loves you too!” You looked up, Michelle’s happy and knowing smirk going unnoticed by you because the only thing you could focus on was Peter and what Ned had just declared. 

   The gym fell silent, every student turning to stare at you and Peter. You were frozen in shock up until the bell rang and everyone filed out quickly, leaving you and Peter alone. 

   “Did he mean it?” You asked, your sneakers squeaking against the floor as you closed the distance between you and Peter, your head tilted to meet his. 

   “It’s the truest thing anyone has ever said.” His lips met yours, and the slant of his mouth against your own was a feeling you could definitely come to adore more than you already did after just one kiss. 

What each instrument says the most
  • Oboe: I bought shot-glasses and cigarette paper this weekend.... NO IT'S FOR MY OBOE I SWEAR
  • Flute: Yeah, she said she was going to do the Chaminade too. Looks like we'll have two people playing the concertino for the solo show this year, or there's always murder, you know
  • clarinet: It's my reed. Hold on I'll get another one out... also if another person asks me to play the mozart clarinet concerto i'll slap a bitch
  • Bassoon: could you scoot over a bit? I need more space to lean my bassoon... My posture is just fine, THANKS
  • Saxophone: shit. i still have my neck-strap on don't I?
  • Drums: Is the snare on? GOD, who turned the snare off again?! AND! Where the frickity frack are my sticks?
  • timpani: i gotta tune the timpani. hold on
  • trumpet: i hate partial jumping practice so much
  • trombone: Do you want to hear my gliss?
  • tuba: i literally play four notes the entire piece..,.
  • horn: look i don't know why we stick the hand in the bell. don't ask. it's just how it is
  • cello: yeah my cello cost 13,000 and my bow is custom made, so it's like 6,000 and my new case which is shock absorbent, fireproof and waterproof cost like 7,500
  • viola: I know we're trying to play louder it's the loudest i can get i know i know i'm so sick of pizzicato accompaniment give me a break please
  • violin: um I can't see the concertmaster's bowings from back here... yeah i know i can watch the person in front of me im not stupid it's just...
  • double bass: how the fuck am I supposed to carry this thing through the door? Hey, can you hold it open for me
3

hey my lovely dear friends, human or otherwise 😺🐶 I was lucky enough to receive an early access code from EA for the new cats & dogs expansion!! big thanks going out to EA!

so, without any further ado, I am so excited to share with you my take on the highly anticipated addition of our furry friends into the sim world. join your girl blarf as I take on my first day in Brindleton Bay! 

Keep reading

I was thinking about the Balmera episode and how Keith got the doors to work and I was just wondering…what would happen if Lance had done it? And then I was like…okay but what if Altean Lance had done it? And then this happened (under a cut for length)


Lance frowned, guiding his eyes along the panel in front of him and furrowing his brows. “Hmm…nope…maybe…”

He winced and started pressing at random buttons before glancing over at Keith. “I don’t know what I’m doing over here,” he admitted. “It’s all Galra gibberish.”

Keith scooted over. “Let me see.”

He studied the panel for a moment before nodding. “You said maybe on the handprint, right?”

Lance bit his lip. “Yeah, but what if it sets off an alarm?”

Keith ran a hand over his jaw, weighing the pros and cons. “Well…they already know we’re on the planet. Worst case scenario, we have to just destroy the hangar and hope the Balmera survives. Best case scenario-”

“The doors close and we leave,” Lance finished with a nod. “Okay. Worth a shot. If it goes wrong, I’m blaming you.”

Keith rolled his eyes and Lance settled his palm over the handprint emblem, waiting with baited breath. For a moment, nothing happened, and the boys grinned, certain that they had found the solution.

“INTRUDER ALERT! ALTEAN INTRUDER ALERT!”

Keep reading

couple’s therapy // derek hale

summary : stiles is a bit concerned for the reader’s relationship with derek, driving him to host an impromptu couple’s therapy session with results that leave him only slightly mortified and very uncomfortable. 

  Derek wasn’t sure when the entirety of the McCall pack coming over once a week for what they called a “a pack meeting” had become a thing, but it certainly was a prominent event that wasn’t going away anytime soon. He had learned to accept it after the first two months, and now it was routine for you and Derek to prepare the loft every Friday afternoon for an evening of loud teenagers barging into your home only semi-uninvited. 

   This time around, you were both sitting quietly on the couch. Your eyes were drifting shut every once in awhile, but Derek would nudge you awake when you looked as if you were going to pass out. You were curled up on separate ends of the couch when Lydia, Scott, Stiles, Liam, Malia, and Kira burst through the door. You suspected that Stiles had replicated your key. You were greeted with a chorus of hello’s that you and your boyfriend answered in mumbled, sleepy tones. Stiles sauntered into the living room first, taking a seat between you and Derek and ripping open a package of cookies as loudly as he could. 

  Derek opened one eye, staring sideways at Stiles. “Do you mind?” 

  “Sharing? No, not at all!” Stiles shoved the cookies at Derek, who gave Stiles a dirty look before glancing away and settling comfortably back into his couch. Confused as to why you weren’t sleeping under Derek’s arm as you usually were, Stiles elbowed you in the ribcage. 

    “Um, ouch,” you muttered, shoving Stiles away. “Stop harassing older women, that’s not how you get a girl to go out with you. Lydia won’t love you if you act like this toward her.” You pushed Stiles again, sending him into Derek’s side and letting out a laugh when Derek growled, grabbing Stiles by the back of his shirt and sending him flying off the couch. 

    “Both of you are quite hostile tonight,” Stiles shook his head. “And you seem really distant toward each other. Anything going on?” 

    “Maybe we’re just tired,” Derek replied, yawning. You nodded with him, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. 

    Not convinced, Stiles continued, “Yeah, but you two are always so touchy feely with each other that if you were really, genuinely tired and not being distant on purpose than Y/N would be drooling on your shoulder right now and not on your nice pillows. For old people, you’re very affectionate.” The rest of the pack filed in, taking their seats on the floor and the other two chairs. 

   “I don’t drool,” you protested as Derek said, “We’re not old!”

   “See!” Stiles exclaimed. “You’re not even in tune with each other anymore. It’s sad. I’ve see this happen to the best of couples. It happened to Malia and I,” he pointed to his ex girlfriend with a sad look on his face before Malia scowled at him. He returned his only somewhat condescending stare back to you and Derek, looking at them almost pityingly. 

   “Stiles, what exactly are you implying?” Derek asked, folding his arms over his broad chest in an intimidating manner.  Unbothered, Stiles said, “I’m not implying anything, I’m stating that I think you and Y/N are drifting apart from each other and need some couple’s therapy. Luckily, I am proficient in giving advice and supplying people with statistics.” 

   “Since when does anyone listen to your advice?” Scott said with a laugh. Stiles sent his best friend a glare. 

    “Anyways,” Stiles said loudly, “Studies show that majority of happy couples are having sex at least twice a week. Now,” he turned to everyone as if he was a teacher, clearly delighted to have the attention on him, “as you should know from health class, sex releases endorphins, which increases the bond between a person and their partner. So, if you guys are being distant, it might be because you’re not going at it enough.

    Derek, holding back his laughter, reached over Stiles and squeezed your hand. You were practically about to burst, you were holding in your giggles so tightly. “Um, Stiles, I think it’s safe to say that the sex thing isn’t an issue.” 

   Adamant that he was correct, Stiles ignored him and continued talking, “I mean, you’re sitting on opposite ends of the couch. Y/N looks exhausted, and you, Derek, look dead, no offense. Clearly, you’ve been arguing. Probably screaming back and forth at each other for hours before we got here.” 

   You snickered, then said, “Yeah, I’d say there was definitely some screaming.” Lydia’s face went bright red at this comment as she finally realized what you were hinting at. Catching your attention, she made a gagging motion, causing you to laugh harder. Scott was the next to catch on, and he looked absolutely terrified. He poked Kira in the arm, explaining what was going on low enough so that Stiles couldn’t hear. Liam was filling Malia in on what was happening as well, but the poor boy appeared horrified at the doings of two people he considered to be second parents to him. 

    “Exactly!” Stiles snapped his fingers. “There lies the issue.” 

    “Stiles, I think the issue here is that you’re an idiot.” Derek smiled at him. 

    “Look, I’m just trying to help you guys,” he said defensively. “When couples stop being intimate with each other, it leads to eventual break ups, and divorce in the case of being married to the other person. I happen to think you and Y/N make a lovely couple, and it would be a shame to see your relationship end because you couldn’t face the facts.” 

   “Trust me on this, intimacy is not the reason we’re being so distant right now,” you informed the boy, patting his shoulder gently. 

    “Then what is?” He questioned impatiently. 

    “Well, kiddo,” Derek gripped Stiles’ other shoulder, “when I say that intimacy isn’t a problem, I mean that it really, really isn’t a problem. It’s probably the least of mine and Y/N’s worries, to be completely honest.” 

    Scrunching his nose, Stiles looked around at the flushed faces of his pack mates and the barely stifled smiles everyone had on their faces. “I- I don’t get it?” 

    Clearing your throat, you said, “Derek and I are already a pretty… intimate couple. So intimate, in fact, that the reason we’re being distant is because we’re actually kind of tired from, um, previous actions… if you catch my drift.” 

    Stiles at first still appeared confused, but when you and Derek began cracking up again, realization dawned in his eyes. The look of disgust on his face was enough to send you into a fit of laughter, practically falling onto the floor when the teenager jumped up from the couch, gagging and making an array of faces. 

    “You are disgusting,” he shuddered. “I cannot believe- how could you just… oh my god! You’re two old people having sex, I’m so grossed out right now I might cry, I’m just… Y/N, you’re like my big sister and you’re having sex and you just told me and you just had sex like an hour ago and now you’re tired from it and I’m actually going to puke now and maybe die okay goodnight!” With a last horrified glance at you and Derek, he practically sprinted out of the loft, practically in tears. 

    The rest of the pack filed out shortly after, tears of laughter in their eyes, and you apologized to Liam since he was the youngest and probably the most petrified- save for Stiles. After they were gone, you snuggled up next to Derek on the couch, resting your head on his shoulder. He kissed your head lightly, arm around your shoulders. 

    “What an enlightening couple’s therapy session, huh?” You joked, poking Derek’s side. He rolled his eyes again, as he always did when Stiles or anything to do with Stiles was mentioned. “Aw, c’mon, honey, it was pretty hilarious. I think I really learned a lot,” you laughed. 

   “Yeah, I learned that Stiles is dumber than I originally thought and that you have a really cute laugh,” Derek paused. “Actually, I knew that before, so I only learned one new thing today. I mean, everyone else caught on, even little Liam. And he’s, what, five?”  

    “Sixteen, Derek,” you patted your boyfriend’s chest. 

    “Same difference,” he said. “Anyways, maybe we could start being a little more intimate.” He winked at you, placing his hand on your cheek and turning your face toward him. 

    “Derek, we literally have sex every day, how much more intimate can we get?” You raised your eyebrows, letting out a squeal when Derek suddenly lifted you in the air, lips pressing against every area of your skin that he could reach as he said, “How does twice a day sound?” 

  • Naruto: so, Sasuke, what do you want for your birthday?
  • Sasuke: *blinks* you mean as a gift?
  • Naruto: Yeah! I'll give you anything you want
  • Sasuke: *blinks*
  • Naruto: when I say anything, I mean ANYTHING
  • Sasuke: *blinks once again and then blushes furiously*
  • Sasuke: meet me in your office at midnight
  • Naruto: *doesn't get it* um okay
|Awkward Dinner| Peter Parker

Peter Parker x Stark!reader

Request:  Hi, are u tking in requests? Because I was thinking of one in which the reader is dating Peter Parker and her dad is Tony Stark (peter dindnt know) and she presents Peter to her dad in a dinner night and Tony is like :“You piece of shit,youre dating my daughter” and a lot of awkard conversations at dinner? I dont know, is it too mixed up? keep writing

A/N: Thanks for the request and I love the idea of the reader being Starks daughter so I had fun writing this :3

Warnings: ALOT of cussings, and mentions of sex and implied *wink wonk*

Words: 915

Part 2

Originally posted by dailymcugifs

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Are you nervous?” I asked Peter, holding his arm while standing in front of the closed dining room doors.

“No- I mean… Yeah. I just hope your dad likes me.” He nervously chuckled.

“I know he’ll love you! I mean he’s really smart just like you. And funny- but kind of an asshole…” I smiled up at him.

“Ok…” He opened the door and grinned. “After you.” He motioned into the room.

“Thank you.” I giggled at him and walked past. My dad, who most call Tony Stark, was sitting at the table working on something projecting from his watch.

“Hey sweetie-” He said without looking up. Peter walked up beside me and froze.

“Uh-” Peter whimpered.

“Babe- are you ok?” I whispered to him. My dad looked up.

“Oh- hey Peter…” My fathers eyebrows furrowed. “What are you doing here?” He asked. My eyes widened.

“Hey… Mr. Stark…” Peter quietly said.

“You know my dad?” I whisper shouted at Peter.

“Yeah! I mean he made my suit and all!” He threw his hands up, keeping his voice low.

“Y/N… I thought your boyfriend would be eating with us.” He said through gritted teeth. I feel like he already knew Peter was my so said boyfriend but wanted to hear me say it.

“Hehe… dad… You apparently already know Peter… my… boyfriend.” I smiled as best I could to hide my embarrassment. I knew that look. My dad had his ‘I’m going to kick someones ass’ look.

“You son of bitch-”

“Dad!” I snapped at my dad.

“You piece of shit-”

“Daaaad-”

“You don’t got daddy issues why you scoping after an almost carbon copy of me?” I groaned.

“Stop- let’s just… have dinner and be nice and- dad do not yell at him anymore.” I said while taking Peter’s arm and leading him to a seat next to me near my dad. We both sat down and my father sighed, swiping away his work.

There was an awkward silence as our food was brought out. Peters’ hand was clammy against mine and then he shook my hand from his. I looked down at the food which was steak.

“I’m sorry about my dad-” I began to whisper towards Peter. “I didn’t know you guys knew-”

“So, Peter…” My dad spoke up, catching our attention. “How long have you two been… a thing?” He asked.

“A-About… Eight months…” My dad growled at Peter’s answer.

“Sooo… How was work, dad?” I asked. I could tell Peter was tense so I put my hand on his knee and he slowly loosened up.

“It was-” He sliced his knife hard through the steak and the knife made a clang against the plate. “Good…” Peter gulped beside me.

“So, Peter… Does Y/N know? About the internship?” I could tell my dad was staring at Peter without even looking up.

“Uh… Um… Yeah…” My eyes looked up at my dad.

“I thought I told you not to involve anyone you cared about.” He said as he calmly set down his silverware.

“S-She accidentally found out- Mr. Stark.”

“I’m gonna kick your ass, Parker.” Peter tensed up again.

“Dad!” I yelled. Both boys looked my way. “Why can’t you just accept that Peter and I are dating and you can’t just be an asshole to him. It’s hurting me too!” I looked at Peter and he weakly smiled.

“I’m sorry honey… I’m just… Mad at Peter at the moment.” He mumbled. It clicked in my mind that Peter said he had gotten his suit taken away. I leaned towards Peter.

“Did he take away your suit?” I whispered to him.

“Yeah…” I giggled and then sighed.

“I have two children on my hands.” Peter nodded in agreement.

“Are you calling me a child, Peter?”

“No- No sir! I- was…” Peter hurriedly grabbed his water and started drinking from it to avoid the question.

“Listen- I’m totally fine with you two dating but I have some rules.” My dad held up one finger. “One- no sex.” I heard a choking sound from Peter and he coughed up some water. I guess we already broke rule number one. My dad didn’t even care and went on with the rules as Peter tried to regain breaths. “Two- mainly to you Peter- If you break her heart I really am going to kick your ass.”

“Yes, M-Mr. Stark.” Peter gasped and I patted his back.

“Three- no kissing in front of me. Four- If something happens to her you’re going to do everything you possibly can to get her back.”

“I would be doing that anyways even if you wouldn’t have told me too… Sir! S-sir…” My father rolled his eyes and his watch beeped.

“I have to go do something.” He pushed his seat back and started walking towards me. He kissed the top of my head and then looked at Peter. He just stared at him for a second. “Don’t expect me to kiss you either. I’m mad at you.” He turned around and walked out the door. Peter let out all the air he was holding in.

“Jesus- Christ. That was the most terrifying I’ve ever done.” We both laughed quietly and then leaned back in our chairs.

“I’m sorry- I thought that would have gone a lot better.” He shrugged.

“I mean… you could make it up to me.” He smirked down at me.

“Hm… do you want to break one of my dads rules?” I asked.

“What!? No! He might murder me!”

“Even if it’s rule number one?” I bit my lip and he whimpered.

“I-I think I could live with that…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: who wouldn’t wanna break rule number one with Peter ‘fuck me’ Parker

The Kingdom

summary: Richie doesn’t know why, but (Y/N) doesn’t seem to be very happy to see him. They seemed to be good friends, so why now?

requested: yes

universe: IT

A/N: aaa I haven’t done one-shots in a while!!! also, I needed a gif of Richie looking kinda upset but I can’t find one so here ya go have a Mike Wheeler pretending to be Richie Tozier

—-

Originally posted by possessedwill

—-

Richie impatiently bounced on the benches of the lunch table, waiting for you to come over. It’d just began the school year and it was the month you got your leg cast off. Ever since the Neibolt House Incident, you were left with a severely sliced leg and a huge scar on the side. The whole Losers Club gang stuck together, of course. Beverly found a way to stay in Derry for at least a couple years, Mike got himself an internship at a bakery, and Bill stopped his parents from moving. 

As he watched you walk through the doors into the bustling cafeteria, his face lit up like Christmas lights. He waved his hand up and ignored the weird looks from the other students, “Hey! Hey, (Y/N)! Over here!” 

You glanced over at the table he sat at and your eyes slowly went over to Stan, who sat across from him. Stan looked at you and he gave a sweet smile before returning to read through his book while taking sips from his milk. You went back to Richie and suddenly felt your stomach churn. You didn’t mean to, but you gave a dirty look before turning away and walking back out of the cafeteria.

Richie watched as you sped away and he felt his hand drop down to the table, the thud startling the calm Stanley. He made a confused, upset face and stared at Richie, placing his book beside his lunchbox.

“What’s wrong?”

“Did you see the way (Y/N) looked at me? I mean, come on, man. What did I even do?” Richie glanced back at the doors that you once stood between that was now crowded with acne teens and hyper tweens. He huffed before turning back to Stanley to bite part of his sandwich.

“Maybe you made them mad. I mean, you kind of ignored them for months after the um, the Thing happened. You hung out with Eddie more. Bill, too,” Stan raised his eyebrow before taking another sip of his milk. Richie rolled his eyes at him and leaned his elbow onto the table.

“Yeah, but I never did shit! Like, ignoring isn’t a bad thing. They ignored me for like, a week one time. It’s just payback,” Richie took a second bite before plopping his sandwich back into his lunchbox. Stan raised his eyebrow again, giving Richie a deadpanned look. “What?”

Stan sighed and set down his milk. He raised his hands, “Your quote-unquote payback has been going on for two months. Do you even know how that makes them feel, Richie?” Richie scoffed while closing up his lunchbox. Maybe he was a bit insensitive to that, but he still knew that it was just playful revenge.

“It’s just fun revenge, Stan. Geez,” Richie shook his head slowly and brushed crumbs off the table before the bell had rung. Stanley packed away his food and drank the last of his milk. As the two walked out of the cafeteria, Richie glanced back into the room and noticed that you’d just walked in. Everyone had left and you were still there, sitting alone with barely eaten food.

He felt a tightening in his chest the moment you two locked eyes, to which you turned away and resumed eating. Richie’s eyebrows knitted together and he turned back to Stan as they walked through the halls. Stan rambled about how Beverly had gotten him a few books for his birthday and how Ben got him a library card, nerdy stuff in Richie’s book. 

What he really was listening to were his thoughts. Maybe he did go too far, maybe you hated him. He was a dick sometimes. Okay, maybe not just sometimes. He just was never taught what was too far, nothing was too far unless he gets hurt. There were no boundaries. 

“Give me a second, Stan. Gotta take a piss,” Stan grimaced while Richie handed him his lunchbox and ran off. Stan walked off to class while Richie slowly walked to the bathrooms, his hands shoved into his pockets. As he neared the bathrooms, he smugly passed the doorway and walked began to full-on sprint toward the cafeteria. 

As he neared the doors, he could hear laughing. Genuine, happy laughing. Not from just you, either. He heard four voices, one of which he knew was yours from countless times of laughing about cheesy horror movies, or the times he’d accidentally snort and make soda go up his nose. Those were the good times, the best days that you’d shared a year ago before he shut you out.

To be honest, he never even knew why he shut you out. Maybe it was because you became friends with Eddie, or maybe because he didn’t go to your orchestra recitals, maybe because you weren’t there for him in the Neibolt house the day you got hurt. In Richie’s mind, it was your fault that the friendship didn’t last. Your fault for getting a better friend, your fault for the teacher pairing you and Eddie for science instead of you and him, your fault for getting that cast in the first place.

Everything was your fault if it didn’t have a neutral explanation. 

Richie peeked in through the open door and his stomach flipped at the sight. You, Beverly, Eddie, and some other boy he never knew sat together at a table, your laughing echoing off the empty walls of the cafeteria. Richie’s eyes lingered on you before his daze distorted into a glare, now staring down the unknown boy and Eddie, who sat around you. Eddie seemed to be the one making the jokes, the one making you laugh.

“Dipshit! That’s definitely not how it happened!” Beverly pushed hair behind her ear and crossed her legs, watching as Eddie over exaggerated the happenings of watching (Y/N) get their cast off. The unknown boy snorted with laughter at Eddie’s annoyed deadpan.

“You weren’t even there, so ha!” Eddie crossed his arms and the others burst out laughing. Eddie tried to bite back and hid his laughing before he laughed along with them.

“Actually, it wasn’t either way,” You spoke up as soon as the laughter died down. Richie listened intently and leaned onto the door, watching your smile downturn into a subtle frown. “It was like, early August. I’d just gotten my shit together and went to the doctor’s. I called up Richie like, ten times.” You laughed and the others’ smiles went down as well, remembering what you’d told them.

Richie noticed the now glum feeling in the conversation, yet he still decided to listen along. He wanted badly to walk over and casually start joking around like you’d done last year like you did before Neibolt. 

“Hey, (Y/N),” Eddie placed his hand over yours and Beverly did the same, smiling comfortingly, trying to make you feel better. “If you don’t want to talk about it, we get it. It’s okay with us.”

“It’s fine, Eddie,” You patted his head and ruffled his hair before getting back to the story. They listened in once you’d started smiling again, giggling once you’d said something funny. “Then like, they take out this rea-a-ally big saw! I was like, “Jesus Christ!”” 

Richie laughed and before he could remember that he was supposed to be hiding, you all looked over at the doors and saw Richie Tozier laughing his ass off. Your smile fell and you looked down, the others doing the same.

Since he’d just blown his cover anyway, Richie thought it would be okay to walk over. He slowly but surely made his way over, sitting down across from you. The three others cleared their throats and looked down in silence.

“So, uh, hey,” Richie tried his best to lighten the mood, smiling even when he knew he shouldn’t. You stared down at your food and the others looked to the sides. “I heard you got your cast off. ‘Means we could swim at the Quarry again, right?”

They stayed silent, even Eddie did. Eddie was always one to side with Richie, even if they were polar opposites. Like brothers from another mother, it was always the two. But now, it was just him. Him alone, you together.

“Yeah,” You muttered under your breath as a way to not talk to him. You avoided any eye contact and tried to use as little words as possible, “I got it off a month ago. I don’t like to swim, though.” He knew that was a lie, you’d always loved to go swimming. Night or day, you’d be swimming.

“C’mon, we all know that’s a lie! I’ve seen you at the pool all the time, right Eddie?” Richie looked over to Eddie, who uncomfortably shifted under his stare. He turned around to the new boy, then to Beverly, “Bev?” 

“Look, Richie. That was when I was your friend, as in a year ago. I’ve changed, okay? Just leave me alone,” You grabbed your lunch and stood up, climbing out from the lunch tables to walk toward the trash bins. You threw out the rest of your food and left your food tray while walking away and out of the cafeteria. Beverly, Eddie, and that new guy at the table awkwardly sat there before slowly parting with lame excuses. 

Before the new guy could leave, Richie stopped him, “Who’re you?” The boy seemed confused and a bit anxious, but Richie could care less.

“I- I’m Will. Will Byers,” He wiped his palms against his pants while Richie stared him down. Will was awkward and didn’t want to be there, he wanted to leave. Richie took a long look at him. A flannel wearing, bowl-cut having wimp that was skinnier than Bill and Stan put together. Richie couldn’t believe (Y/N) ditched him for this kid, his blood boiled just at the thought of it.

“You’re hair cut’s stupid,” Richie blurted out without thinking before pushing past the boy to walk after you. He knew where you’d be. You always were interested in the field and you’d made a secret clubhouse in the old toolshed, it was always named the Misfit Kingdom ever since you two met.

As Richie got closer to the clubhouse, he stopped in his tracks the moment he saw it. You were there, of course, only you weren’t going in. You had a shovel, most likely from the remains of the actual toolshed. You were breaking down the entire clubhouse, one wall, one window, one memory at a time. Eddie and Beverly stood beside you, watching in not only worry but grief.

The more you slammed the shoved against the walls, the more Richie felt his eyes sting. He couldn’t remember what he came there for and immediately began to run to you as best as he could from how much of a bad runner he was.

“(Y/N)! What the fuck are you doing? Stop it!” Once he was close enough, he grabbed the shovel from you and held it away from you. You tried your best to grab it from him, to keep destroying, but he wouldn’t let you. “Stop it! What are you doing?” 

You glared at him and took a deep breath to keep down the tears that rose to the corners of your eyes, “I hate you, Richie.” You turned away from him and stomped off of the field. Eddie and Beverly watched as Richie’s entire life broke apart. All that hope built up, that impatient waiting for the phone call saying you wanted to hang out, all of that went away in four words. 

“Richie..,” Eddie stepped toward Richie, to which he ignored him and stared at the broken kingdom. All the hours of hard work you put into that house was gone. The safe haven for all outcasts and misfits, for all losers, was gone. That one, single place where no one is normal was now gone. 

Richie took a shaky breath and his hand gripped onto the shovel tighter. Eddie knew how Richie felt, both he and Beverly felt the same way. Their favorite place was gone, their hangout where nothing is too weird, destroyed right in front of them.

“Richie,” Beverly placed her hand on his shoulder. Richie shoved her off and dropped the shovel in front of her, walking toward the remains of the clubhouse. He bent down and began to clean it up, trying to put it back together. “We’ll leave…” 

Once the other two left, he fell to his knees and desperately tried to put everything back to normal. He tried to fix the door, fix the walls, to fix the shelf of sodas and chips, but he couldn’t. The tears that were once just stinging became waterfalls, Richie started crying. He knew it may have been his fault, but it just came so naturally to cry after being hurt. 

And right now, he was hurt.

You Are My Heaven Pt 1 (Steve Rogers Fic)

Characters: reader, Steve, Sam, Natasha, Tony (mentioned), Clint (mentioned) Maria Hill

Summary: Falling for a good man, who happened to be her training partner, was unavoidable. Does the reader have the courage to find out if he feels the same way? What if he doesn’t? Life rarely unfolds the way we hope it would. (Events take place after CATWS)

Warnings: lil fluff, lotta angst. Heartbreak. I’m sorry. 

Word Count: 2.8k

Song Inspiration: A Drop in the Ocean by Ron Pope

Tags are at the bottom

A/N: This one hurt. Once again, I drew from my own personal experiences, so it took a lot out of me to write. I hope you enjoy it? Part 2 will be out in a few days, I promise! It’s already written and will be the last, with a possible epilogue. Please let me know your thoughts! Special thanks to @buckyywiththegoodhair for reading this over! You’re a darling! 

Part One   Part Two>>>

Masterlist

_______________________________________________________

Originally posted by rdytocmply

Stupid heart.

Stupid feelings.

Stupid brain for putting you in this situation.

Stupid gorgeous, muscled Super Soldier who just had to be working out right in front of you with his God-like physique and sweat glistening on his handsome brow.

At this point, you had no choice in the matter. You were too far gone. Resistance was futile.

“You know, you could just tell him,” muttered the red-headed former assassin beside you.

You scoffed, “Who? About what? I mean, I don’t…what’re you…”

Unimpressed by your less-than-convincing response, Natasha caught your eye and raised an eyebrow. She knew.

Huffing out a frustrated sigh, you conceded. “I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

A snort of laughter escaped you, “Why? Because he’s Steve Rogers! Captain Freaking America. It’s not gonna happen.”

She shrugged, “You never know unless you try.”

Keep reading

Extra Pickles?

Requested By: @yoyococo18

Hey! I saw that your requests are open! Do you mind if I request one where the reader is Mr. Delmar’s daughter? That one scene when Peter’s ordering a sandwich and asks about her made me think of it. Do with it what you will, it’s just and idea ❤️

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Description: A few months ago you started working at your dad’s sandwich shop, you weren’t thrilled but you needed money. You grew to love working there overtime, becoming close with certain customers. One of them being Peter Parker, he always got the same thing, but with extra pickles and to have it all smooshed down. After a while you went on a break, you didn’t show up as often as you once did. Your dad soon became the one to talk to Peter, he’d ask about his mom, then say something in Spanish to his coworkers, which only made Peter ask about you too, but in Spanish also.

Warnings: None really, it’s just super cute and awkward.

Word Count: 2,958

A/N: YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW HARD IT WAS TO FIND THIS GIF. IT WAS LITEREALLY SO HARD BUT I FOUND IT. I feel accomplished with life. Also if you don’t remember what he asks, he says “How’s your daughter, eh?”  Overall I think this imagine is super cute and dorky and I love it because I could so see something like this happening in real life. Anyways I hope you like it! :)

You were in high school, that meaning you and everyone else there wanted jobs so they could get money and do whatever they pleased.

Your dad was Mr. Delmar, also known as the person with the best sandwich shop in Queens.

That is also where you started working, you weren’t thrilled about it, mainly because well.. it was your dad’s shop, how embarrassing.

You weren’t going to lie, you were clueless at first, unsure of how to work the cash register, or how to take peoples orders, all you really knew how to do was clean the tables, and keep the floor clean.

But after a week of training you were getting the hang of things, you now knew how to take peoples’ orders properly, and work certain parts of the cash register.

You actually were beginning to like working at the shop, something you never thought you’d admit to yourself.

Working with your dad wasn’t actually that bad, sure he’d try to embarrass you in Spanish to his coworkers, but you knew bits and pieces on what he said, so you’d call him out too.

You became close with everyone there, not only just your coworkers, but the people who came in.

To your surprise there was a lot of regulars that came to the shop, your dad already knew them very well.

You soon were the same way, already knowing their order before they could even walk up to the cash register.

After working at the shop for a few weeks, a new guy came in, at least he was knew to you, but not your dad.

“Mr. Parker! Nice to see you again!” Your dad smiled happily, waving at the brunette haired boy.

“Hey Mr. Delmar, nice to see you too.” He smiled, walking over to pet Murph, the cat that was sitting on the counter.

“What would you like today?” Your dad asked, making Peter look up at the menu options.

“Can I get a number five, with extra pickles and can you make it flat?” He pressed his hands together to show what he meant, then added a ‘thank you.’

Your dad nodded, motioning for you to go make his order.

You shook your head, muttering ‘extra pickles? who even does that?’ before making the sandwich anyways.

You made it the exact way he wanted, you were still new to sandwich making, and you didn’t want to mess up this guys order.

Even if he did request extra pickles.

“Here you go, a number five, extra pickles, which is strange but okay, and it’s flat like you requested.” You smiled, handing the bag to the brunette haired boy in front of you.

“Thank you.” He smiled warmly, handing you a five dollar bill, which you gladly took.

“I haven’t seen you around here before, are you new?” He asked, catching you off guard.

“Well, I’ve actually been working here for the past month now, so I could ask you the same thing.” You smiled cheekily, making him bite his bottom lip slightly, nodding to himself.

“I’ve been coming here for years, so it’s quite strange not running into you yet.” He laughed, messing with his hair.

“What’s strange is you getting extra pickles.” You teased, making him gasp playfully.

“Pickles are great! You take that back!” He defended, making you laugh and shake your head.

“No way.” You smiled playfully, “We all know getting peppers are way better.” You gave a thumbs up, instantly making him cringe.

“That’s disgusting. Peppers don’t belong anywhere on a sandwich” He shook his head, making you gasp this time.

“Rude.” You teased, making him shrug and laugh.

You both stood there for a few minutes, an awkward silence falling over the two of you.

“Well as nice as it was talking to you..” You trailed off, raising your eyebrows at him.

“O-Oh! My name is P-Peter.. Parker..” He stammered, internally shouting at himself for being a stuttering idiot.

“Well Peter, it was nice chatting with you, but I actually have to go.” You smiled, giving him a small wave.

He gave a soft smile, waving back, but before he walked off he spun back around.

“Hey! Wait! You never told me your name!” He called after you, making you turn around.

“It’s Y/N. I’m his daughter.” You motioned towards your dad, who gave a stern look at Peter.

Peter’s eyes widened in shock, he had been flirting with this girl the entire time while her dad was watching.

You gave him a wink, before disappearing behind the door, leaving Peter in an uncomfortable position with your dad.

Peter swallowed nervously, giving a quick wave to Mr. Delmar, mumbling a quiet ‘thank you, bye.’ and rushing out the door.

After the awkward encounter, Peter still came back every week, getting the same sandwich with extra pickles.

“Aren’t you ever going to try it with peppers instead?” You would ask him, making his face scrunch up in disgust.

You loved to mess with him, it was something you looked forward to every time he came into the shop.

“What do you have against pickles?” He questioned one day, making you squint your eyes at him.

“We have a bad history. Don’t ask.” You replied dramatically, as if there was a tragic backstory.

Peter laughed, he loved being around you, he found you unique, you didn’t care how you acted around him, you were just.. you.

You two had gotten close over those past few months, you’d do your usual banter back and forth, something you both loved to do.

You really started to like him, he was funny, not to mention super cute, but you were never going to tell him that.

More time passed and you had saved up a lot of money, you were surprised you saved it all without spending it.

You normally would of spent it the second you got it, but you didn’t, which confused you, until you realized it was because Peter was on your mind twenty-four-seven.

This was a problem for you, you couldn’t develop feelings for someone that you only knew because he was a regular in your dad’s sandwich shop.

So you decided to take a break from working, you needed to figure out your thoughts and feelings first.

Later that week you weren’t working the register, this made Peter confused, it was Friday, you were always working the lunch shift.

He walked up to the counter, seeing if you were hiding anywhere, but he couldn’t find you.

Instead Mr. Delmar came out, a smile on his face when he saw Peter.

“What’s up Mr. Delmar?” Peter smiled, giving him a slight wave.

“Hey! Mr. Parker, number five right?” He asked, writing down the order for the cooks.

“Yeah. And, um, uh, pickles and can you smoosh it down real flat? Thanks.” He smiled, while Mr. Delmar gave a thumbs up.

Peter rolled back and forth on his heels, wondering where you were.

“How’s school?” Mr. Delmar questioned, while waiting for his sandwich to be made.

“Uh, you know. It’s… boring. I got better things to do.” He shrugged, looking around the shop.

“Stay in school, kids, stay in school. Otherwise you’ll end up like me.” He motioned around the shop, a smile on his face.

“But this place is amazing!” Peter motioned around the shop, a big smile on his face.

Mr. Delmar grabbed his sandwich, placing it on the counter.

“How’s your aunt?” He questioned, making Peter shift a bit.

“… She’s alright.” He looked at him, a look a confusion on his face.

Mr. Delmar smirked slightly, turning his back a bit to talk to his coworkers.

“La tía de tú es un italiana bonísima.” He chuckled, turning back to Peter who had a slight smirk on his face.

“¿Cómo estás tu hija eh?” He smirked, biting his bottom lip slightly.

“Ten dollars.” Mr. Delmar frowned, placing his hand out towards Peter.

“It’s five dollars!” Peter pointed towards the menu, a cheeky smile on his face.

“For that comment, it’s ten dollars.” Mr. Delmar shook his head at him.

“Come on! I was kidding, I was kidding.” Peter smiled, handing him a five dollar bill.

“Here’s five dollars.” He smiled, making Mr. Delmar huff and take it anyways.

Peter waved goodbye, rushing out the door and disappearing like usual.

Weeks passed and Peter still hadn’t seen you at the Deli, he was starting to believe you were never coming back.

You had gone on a mini vacation, you needed to sort out your feelings towards Peter.

You were returning back to work in a few days, you needed to talk to Peter, to tell him how you felt.

You arrived into work early Friday morning, telling your dad where you had been the past few weeks.

You had mentioned to him that you were going to be away for a bit, but 'a bit’ turned into something a lot longer.

“Y/N, you can’t just go and run off like that.” Your dad scolded you, making you sigh.

“I know, but I needed to think, plus I finally had enough money to just go and relax for once.” You confessed, leaning against the counter.

“Think about what?” Your dad pressed you to explain further, making you huff in annoyance.

“About Peter.” You admitted, not looking at your dad who was frozen.

“You mean Mr. Parker?” He squinted his eyes at you, making you shift slightly.

You gave a small nod, biting your bottom lip nervously.

“What is there to think about him?” He questioned, making you want to knock yourself out with literally anything at this point.

“I like him dad.” You muttered, then went into a different room, leaving your dad to his own thoughts.

After a few hours you felt back at home, taking orders from regular customers, catching up on what you had missed.

You loved being at the shop, it was basically your second home.

“Y/N, I think I should probably tell you this before Mr. Parker comes in.” Your dad pulled you to the side.

“Okay, shoot.” You cleaned your hands with a towel, looking at your dad.

“When you were away, Peter came looking for you, that little pickle eater even had the nerve to ask how you were in Spanish.” Your dad muttered, making you smile.

“Really?” You laughed, making your dad nod in annoyance.

You were too involved in talking with your dad, that you didn’t even realize Peter had walked in.

Peter’s face lit up the moment he saw you, he had missed you so much.

He walked up to the counter, catching your attention.

Both your eyes locked, and it felt like time had stopped moving.

Your heart was pounding, you felt your stomach get tons of butterflies.

You truly hated feelings sometimes.

“Hey Peter.” You smiled, walking up to the counter.

“Hey Y/N, long time no see.” He smiled warmly at you, making your insides melt even more.

“Yeah, I kind of took a break, needed to do some thinking.” You shrugged, typing in his order.

“Oh? About what if you don’t mind me asking?” He smiled, making you bite your lip slightly.

How are you supposed to admit to the cutest boy in front of you that you have feelings for them?

“Y-You what?” Peter stuttered, making your eyes widen.

“O-Oh no.. D-Did I just say that out loud?” You gasped, embarrassed instantly.

“I uh..” You stammered, your face red, you didn’t know what to say.

Peter blinked rapidly, trying to process the information he had just been given.

He was the reason you disappeared, you left because you needed to think about how you felt abut him.

You were thinking of him.

“If it makes you feel any better, I came in here every Friday to see if you were working, because I missed you Y/N.” Peter confessed, making you smile shyly.

“I heard you might have spoken some Spanish too.” You laughed, making his face flush red.

“I may have, we don’t know.” He teased, tugging at his hair.

“Oh by the way, here’s your sandwich, with extra disgusting pickles and it flattened, just the way you like it.” You smirked, handing the bag to him.

“For the last time, pickles aren’t disgusting, peppers are!” He defended, making you laugh even harder.

You missed him, a lot, it was clear to you now.

Before Peter could wander off to a table, you scribbled something down on a piece of paper.

“Hey, Parker.” You called to him, making him turn around.

You walked out from behind the counter, walking up to him.

“This is for you.” You handed him the slip of paper, making him give you a confused look.

“What is this?” He asked, making you smirk slightly.

You motioned for him to open it, and when he did his eyes widened.

“Text me sometime, yeah?” You smiled, before walking off back behind the counter.

Peter couldn’t get his smile off his face, he was trying to hide his excitement from getting your number, but he couldn’t help it.

A few days later you and Peter went on your first date, you did something simple, which was perfect for the both of you.

Months passed and you and Peter started dating, Peter was thrilled when you agreed to be his girlfriend, he picked you up and spun you around in circles before kissing you.

You two were the cutest couple.

“Okay on the count of three you will try it with peppers, and I will try it with pickles, deal?” You looked at Peter who had an unhappy emotion on his face.

“Lets just get this over with.” He whined, making you stick your tongue out playfully.

Your dad counted off the numbers and once he got to three you both took a bite of the sandwich.

Both your faces scrunched up in disgust, which in result made the both of you laugh.

You two were really the ultimate couple goals.

Who knew getting extra pickles could create such a great relationship.

GREY AREA. (M) 11

 And just like that, your fate was sealed - because Min Yoongi was absolutely going to destroy you. But hell, if you weren’t going to let him, or bask happily in the flames as he did so.

And sadly, at the time, you didn’t think that your thoughts would become so literal.


Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader
Word Count: 12,039 yikes!
Chapter Index
◇ Soulmate!Au, Slowburn, Angst



Over the short magnitude of time that Min Yoongi has been a part of your ever moving life – his decision or not, you have come to discover one thing about his complex character, and that is: when you think you have him figured out, he does something to throw your entire thought base off balance and send it spiraling into the depths of somewhere unknown.


This is what happens the following Monday when he ventures into your shared English Literature class.


Now, when you had told Jungkook to pass along your reply to Yoongi, you weren’t sure he had received it. Because you had yet to acquire a text message from him. That’s right, not a letter, word, sentence, or paragraph had you received. In fact, you were starting to wonder if Yoongi had indeed changed his mind regarding the friendship or not.


To be honest, it wouldn’t surprise you.


Because, after all, trying to guess when it came to Min Yoongi was trying to guess the weather. There was a fifteen percent chance that the New’s was correct and a seventy five percent chance that something irrational could happen and everything would change.

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The Best Girlfriend

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader

Words: 1,453

Forever Tag List: @capandbuck @bummblebeeblue @sarbear429 @bea789 @xtina2191 @lovethefandomsuniverse @evyiione @trustnobodyshootfirst @motleymoose @thegoodhunterrr5 @bookaddictedhedgehog @gurlwitafro @magicalsis11 @aquabrie @fanboyswhereare-you @percussiongirl2017 @dionnemaria @sherlockslove112 @sesshomaru-lover @freaksforthewin @neishax-butler @hi-pixzza @cookee50 @captainidjit @imasunflower13 @clairedelalune @swimmer-sarcasm @lovelife-tothefullest @dylcole @almightyunnie @winchesterswantmypie

Request: Hey, I was wondering if you could do a one shot where Sam has anxiety, and a secret girlfriend (reader) and Dean would get pissed if he found out, and one day Sam has a panic attack and makes dean call his girlfriend. Thank you so much!!!! - @loveyalotslikejellytots

Author’s Note: You’re welcome! I hope you like it. I’m still behind on this season, over six episodes by now. I’ll eventually make myself watch it between the season ends. – Haley xx


Your name: submit What is this?

“Hello?” I asked, balancing the cellphone between my ear and shoulder. There was shuffling on the other end, but no answer. “Sam? Are you okay?”

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Happier, Aren’t You?

Requested.
Who:
Tom Holland
Song: Happier by Ed Sheeran (This song fucked me up by the way)

Part One ||| Part Two ||| Part Three 

Saw you walk inside a bar
He said something to make you laugh
I saw that both your smiles were twice as wide as ours
Yeah, you look happier, you do

Oh, ain’t nobody hurt you like I hurt you
But ain’t nobody need you like I do
I know that there’s others that deserve you
But my darling, I am still in love with you


Tom could feel his chest tighten at the sight of [Y/N] and her new boyfriend walk into the same bar he was about to head into. It was difficult to be this close to her. Tugging at his tie to loosen it, he flickered a look towards Harrison who was cautiously waiting for his reaction.

“You good?” Harrison asked. 

Nodding and shrugging his shoulders, Tom cleared his throat. “Yeah, yeah. I’m good, I’m good.” Clearing his throat again, he motioned towards the bar, “Let’s go.” 

Harrison pursed his lips, “You sure? There’s another pub down the street we can hit.” Harrison had been against Tom’s decision on breaking up with [Y/N]. He knew Tom like the back of his hand, there was no way that Tom was ever really, truly going to move on. 

“I said I’m good, let’s go. All our friends are going to this one.” Tom replied with a colder tone than he had meant to. 

“Alright, mate. Let’s go then.” 

Tom’s heart was racing, they hadn’t spoken since the day after he had broken up with her. He had checked up on her, knowing in his head that it was too soon to be texting her but he couldn’t resist in hearing her voice one more time. She had sounded absolutely broken and he knew she had been crying all night. The call lasted only thirteen seconds but it was thirteen seconds of confirmation that he had made the biggest mistake. 

He hadn’t fallen out of love with her like most people did in his kind of situation. Tom just couldn’t find time to make her his number one priority like he wanted to. And to him that wasn’t fair to her. He wanted to treat her like a Queen, like his world revolved around her because at one point, it completely had. With his newfound fame, she became second to a lot of things and even though it seemed like she didn’t mind, it bothered him. 

As soon as he walked into the bar with Harrison, all of their friends cheered and hollered. He laughed along with them, telling himself to not search for her. But, it was like a magnetic pull, his eyes found hers instantly. She was the first one to pull her gaze away and he was thankful for that because he wouldn’t have been able to if she hadn’t. 

“Come on, Tom. They saved us a table over by the bar.” Harrison shouted over the music and chatter. 

Nodding, Tom finally tore his eyes from her and followed his friends. He desperately tried to ignore the fact that [Y/N] was just a few feet from him. Laughing with friends, he had to remind himself to fake the smile that his friends wanted to see. Eventually, it became a little bit easier with each passing hour and with each passing beer. Soon, the idea of [Y/N] being there was fading until he received a notification on his phone. Glancing down, his heart sank a little.

@yourusername just posted a picture for the first time in awhile, check it out.

Knowing that he shouldn’t engage in looking at her Instagram, Tom ignored his better judgement and swiped to look.

@yourusername happy ✌️

Tom chewed on his lip, bringing the bottle to his mouth. He took a swig before double tapping the picture and clicking his phone off. Continuing to fade in and out of his friends conversation, he couldn’t help but think of how different he would feel if she was sitting next to him. Or if it was his hands holding onto hers. 

“I’ll be right back.” Tom said as he leaned towards Harrison’s ear.

“Want me to come?” 

Shaking his head, Tom sighed. “Nah, man. I’m just going to get some air.” 

Harrison nodded, “Alright…” He could read between his words but respected his decision to go alone. 

Pressing a smile, Tom patted his shoulder and headed towards the exit. Running a hand through his hair, he broke apart the neatly gelled style. Looking up, he searched to find some stars. One of his favorite pastimes with her. Stargazing. But the city was far too lit for him to find any. Sighing, he started to walk a little, wanting to just go to bed and forget of having seeing her with him. 

“Did you intentionally like my picture or was it something petty?” 

 Tom jumped at the sound of her voice, swiveling to face her. His mouth sat open, shocked to see her standing in front of him. She looked ten times more beautiful up close, it hurt. “[Y/N]! Uh, um, I.” 

Stepping closer, her voice was firm with her eyes glossed over. “I can’t do this, Tom. Please just don’t remind me of you.” 

“[Y/N],” Tom bit his lip, “I, uh, I, um. I just want you to know that I’m glad you found someone.” Looking down at the sidewalk, he mumbled out. “I’m happy that you’re happy.” 

“I am happy, Tom.” She responded, her voice quivering slightly. “But the thing was, was that I was happy with you too.” 

Tom closed his eyes, sighing. “Love,” 

Shaking her head, she gritted her teeth, “Don’t call me that.” 

Opening his eyes, he looked up at the sky. His teeth still scraping over his lips. “I made a mistake,” he said defeated. 

[Y/N] scoffed with tears in her eyes, nodding. “Yeah, yeah you did.” 

Finally meeting her gaze, “You look happier with him then you did with me. So it wasn’t really a mistake for you to love me.” 

Her brows knitted together, her hand reaching for her torso, “A mistake for me? Are you mad?” [Y/N] twirled in her steps, her hand running through her curls. “You only think I’m happier with him because you aren’t happy. I was incredibly happy with you Tom.” Shaking her head, she frowned. “You broke up with me because you wanted me to be treated the way you thought I deserved. Little did you know the way you treated me was everything I wanted.” 

“So you aren’t happier?” Tom asked quietly.

[Y/N]’s mouth opened and then closed. Sighing, she looked away from him, chewing on the inside of her cheek. “I am happy with him. But I’m not sure I love him yet and that was the difference between our relationship and this one. I loved you with everything in me so of course I was happier then.” 

Tom kicked a pebble, shoving his hands in pants, he murmured. “I was happier with you then I am without you.” Looking up, “If he ever decides to be stupid like me and lets you go. I’ll be here, [Y/N].” 

 “How can you still love me after I’ve moved on?” 

“I’ll never hold it against you for finding someone, love. Because there are so many others that deserve you but I’m still in love with you and always will be.” Pressing his lips, he flinched as he felt rain drops hitting his face. “Would you tell Haz that I’ve gone back to the hotel?” 


Part One ||| Part Two ||| Part Three

A Year Later

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: A little bit of kinky stuff, but nothing too extreme. Mostly just fluff.

Summary: You met Tom one day on the streets of New York City about a year ago. Now you travel with him almost anywhere he goes and he’s fallen for you.

A/N: I’ve been working on this for a bit. I just love Tom so much. By the way this imagine is written in both the reader’s and Tom’s perspective and it begins with the reader’s. I hope you enjoy. :)

Originally posted by adamisstillinhellthankstoyou

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