Things that remind me of the signs (aesthetic):

Aesthetic- warm fireplace, morning coffee, busy city streets, red leather.

Aesthetic- Redwood forests, tranquil nature walks, listening to old records, worn denim.

Aesthetic- Quiet library, spearmint gum, thin-rimmed oval glasses, subtle smiles.

Aesthetic- Overcast sky, light rain, clear water at the beach, movie quotes.

Aesthetic- Gold glitter eyeshadow, bold statements, fur coats, late night clubbing.

Aesthetic- Fishnet stockings, light pink lipstick, white marble floors, white stone statues.

Aesthetic- Cotton candy, ribbons, curls, visits to the carnival.

Aesthetic- Black nail polish, red gems, slow dancing by candlelight, leather jackets.

Aesthetic- Soft violin music, black & white balloons, latticed windows, hot showers.

Aesthetic- Long car trips, woollen scarves, road maps, picnics in the shade.

Aesthetic- Messy art studio, sunflowers, old books, 90’s cartoons.

Aesthetic- 60’s flower power era, hesitant skinny dipping, warm days at the beach, your favourite pillow.

(I’ll edit it later adding songs and such if it gets a lot of likes 😊)

Sun + Venus Aesthetics


Aries sun / Aries Venus: scraped knees, red lipstick, ripped fishnet tights

Aries sun / Taurus Venus: floor tickets at a concert, dark chocolate, combat boots

Aries sun / Cancer Venus: cuddling next to the fireplace, camping, woven blankets

Aries sun / Aquarius Venus: breathless conversations, red sunsets, cacti and succulents

Aries sun / Pisces Venus: getting lost in an unfamiliar city, driving in the rain, tired eyes


Taurus sun / Aries Venus: classic rock, red long-stem roses, nose rings 

Taurus sun / Taurus Venus: bubble baths, daffodils, classic dark wash jeans

Taurus sun / Gemini Venus: bubblegum, crinkled-up laughing eyes, champagne

Taurus sun / Cancer Venus: pastel balloons, the moon reflecting on a lake, acoustic guitars

Taurus sun / Pisces Venus: bluebirds, getting caught in the rain, high waisted shorts


Gemini sun / Aries Venus: lightning, laughing in the middle of a fight, stiletto heels

Gemini sun / Taurus Venus: mountain air, a perfect smile, wildflowers

Gemini sun / Gemini Venus: going out dancing, slapstick comedy, maraschino cherries

Gemini sun / Cancer Venus: pastel yellow sundresses, a worn out denim jacket, daisies

Gemini sun / Leo Venus: gold eye shadow, margaritas, long manicured nails


Cancer sun / Taurus Venus: first kisses, baby pictures, vintage dresses

Cancer sun / Gemini Venus: strawberry milkshakes, blowing bubbles, old convertible Volkswagen bugs

Cancer sun / Cancer Venus: clover flowers, silver lockets, sunshowers

Cancer sun / Leo Venus: piano music, sunflowers, promise rings

Cancer sun / Virgo Venus: polaroid pictures, forehead kisses, silvery moonlight


Leo sun / Gemini Venus: golden retriever puppies, braided hair, orange cream popsicles

Leo sun / Cancer Venus: red wine, engagement rings, Valentine’s Day chocolate

Leo sun / Leo Venus: perfect winged eyeliner, gold jewelry, crushed velvet

Leo sun / Virgo Venus: cashmere sweaters, caramel popcorn, high heeled boots

Leo sun / Libra Venus: aviator sunglasses, palm trees, 80′s cult movies


Virgo sun / Cancer Venus: freshly cut grass, crescent moons, flannel shirts

Virgo sun / Leo Venus: black coffee, thigh high socks, short bodycon dresses

Virgo sun / Virgo Venus: oversized sweaters, black framed glasses, old newspapers

Virgo sun / Libra Venus: windswept hair, coffee shops, lace stockings

Virgo sun / Scorpio Venus: black cats, crop tops, vinyl records


Libra sun / Leo Venus: lemonade, charm bracelets, gold tiaras

Libra sun / Virgo Venus: fairy lights, sparrows, a seedling just poking out of the soil

Libra sun / Libra Venus: cupcakes with pink frosting, designer brands, first dates

Libra sun / Scorpio Venus: converse high tops, smirks, amethyst 

Libra sun / Sagittarius Venus: private jets, tequila shots, seashells


Scorpio sun / Virgo Venus: Doc Martens, obsidian, stargazing on the roof

Scorpio sun / Libra Venus: strawberries, angel wings, sly smiles

Scorpio sun / Scorpio Venus: acid wash denim, vintage concert posters, things said in the heat of the moment

Scorpio sun / Sagittarius Venus: broken glass, chipped nail polish, beach bonfires

Scorpio sun / Capricorn Venus: werewolves, vanilla candles, smiling through tears


Sagittarius sun / Libra Venus: bioluminescent beaches, quick kisses, flirting with a perfect stranger

Sagittarius sun / Scorpio Venus: crunchy leaves, wild eyes, losing baby teeth

Sagittarius sun / Sagittarius Venus: making people laugh, sneaking out, music festivals

Sagittarius sun / Capricorn Venus: the smell of smoke, old maps, iced tea

Sagittarius sun / Aquarius Venus: sunburns, the feeling of wind in your hair, sand between your toes


Capricorn sun / Scorpio Venus: thunderstorms, first love, the satisfaction of getting your way

Capricorn sun / Sagittarius Venus: sarcastic remarks, septum piercings, the “bad boy”

Capricorn sun / Capricorn Venus: crooked smiles, classic cars, cinnamon whiskey

Capricorn sun / Aquarius Venus: postcards, walking through grass barefoot, staying up until sunrise

Capricorn sun / Pisces Venus: foggy mornings, herbal tea, shooting stars


Aquarius sun / Aries Venus: exploring abandoned places, debates, laughing so hard you cry

Aquarius sun / Sagittarius Venus: spontaneous midnight road trips, borrowed sweatshirts, beanies

Aquarius sun / Capricorn Venus: ghost stories, fireflies, skateboarding

Aquarius sun / Aquarius Venus: hawks, ripped jeans, the irresistible urge to do something reckless

Aquarius sun / Pisces Venus: pastel hair, fairy tales, constellations


Pisces sun / Aries Venus: black pearls, burned out matches, ferris wheels

Pisces sun / Taurus Venus: tide pools, the smell before rain, cotton candy

Pisces sun / Capricorn Venus: meteor showers, crystal-covered caves, daydreaming

Pisces sun / Aquarius Venus: crystal balls, watercolor paintings, Greek mythology

Pisces sun / Pisces Venus: hypnotic eyes, unconditional love, wild hair

  • Scout Aesthetics: Fresh laundry. Hot dogs for dinner. Cold pizza for breakfast. A really good haircut. A joke so funny that you cry. New shoes. The CRACK! of a baseball on a wooden bat. FOMO. Peppermint chewing gum. Runner's high. Your first crush.
  • Soldier Aesthetics: Pine trees. Cold dew on a summer morning. MRE's that don't taste like paper pulp. Cornfields as far as the eye can see. Screaming at the sky late at night. Turkey with stuffing. White bread in a plastic sleeve. Getting gum on your shoes.
  • Pyro Aesthetics: Scented candles and burnt popcorn. Fresh-cut daisies. Drawing with charcoal. Sun bleached bones. The smell of gasoline. Gel pens. Your favorite animated movie. The scapegoat. Not caring at all.
  • Demoman Aesthetics: Butterscotch and sulfur. Rolling meadows of grass. Sand in your shoes. Fried fish in a greasy newspaper. Fireworks on a warm summer evening. Wool turtleneck sweaters. Being double-dog-dared to swim in the lake during winter. The best hole-in-the-wall pub in the world.
  • Heavy Aesthetics: Dusty old books. Creaking floorboards. Fresh winter snow. A really good sandwich. Finding a new favorite novel. A handmade scarf. Getting a good grade on an assignment. First editions. Going to the natural history museum. Firmly believing why you were put on this earth.
  • Engineer Aesthetics: Breakfast foods. Campfires. The satisfying clicking of clockwork machinery. Reading bedtime stories aloud. T-shirts with math jokes on them. Tuning a guitar. Petting zoos. Knowing your limits. Learning about something that makes you really happy. A cool looking rock.
  • Medic Aesthetics: Antiseptic. Down comforters. Really round fluffy birds. Bad puns. Doing things because you can. Hot tea. Waking up before the sun does. Whistling. Dry cleaning. Fun facts about animals. Really strange nonfiction books. Windy winter days.
  • Sniper Aesthetics: Dirt and black coffee. Climbing a tree. People watching. Road trips. Going to bed and realizing you haven't spoken to anyone all day. Fairy bread. Getting caught in the rain. Really cool scars. Having a story for everything. Polarized lenses.
  • Spy Aesthetic: Vermouth and tobacco. Minimalist cuff links. Playing cards. Hair pomade. Silk ties. Your first love. A passing feeling of emptiness. Heels clicking on polished floors. Crusty dinner rolls with soft warm bread on the inside.
  • Pauling Aesthetics: Lavender hand soap. Gunpowder. Lilac polo shirts. Worn black denim. Staying up late and watching the home shopping channel because you can't sleep. Beat-up firearms catalogs. Telling your mother to return your birthday gift because your workplace has strict dress codes regarding clothing colors, even though you desperately need that new skirt. Finding drawings from when you were a child. Soft wool cardigans. Shiny silver knives. Yogurt with fruit. Hating and loving your job at the same time.
Things you find in the Batfamily closets


  • That suit (We all know the one)
  • Old clothes that barely fit him
  • The old dad sweat shirt (It’s covered in coffee stains and smells like fall)
  • Hockey jerseys, just so many hockey jerseys; one from each town that he’s ever visited that has a hockey team
  • A pair of white tennis shoes from ten years ago
  • Tons and tons of ties that everyone gets him for his birthday


  • Every horrible shirt he wore (polka-dots, everything)
  • Gymnast leotards
  • Awful green tights
  • Baseball caps with terrible one liners printed on them
  • Khaki pants and shorts
  • Collector edition shoes from when he was little that he doesn’t even realize are special
  • His costume


  • A purple track suit Steph got her
  • A trench coat from her dad
  • A black t-shirt that says “In a hacker voice” on the front and “I’m in” on the back
  • Tons of nice blouses and cardigans (her and Kate the only grown adult in the batfamily that dresses like it)
  • Old clothes from her youth that she’s embarrassed about (”It’s like staring at every neon sign in Vegas in a box”) 


  • A variety of custom motorcycle riding gloves 
  • Old Red Hood Helmets 
  • Worn out, beaten up denim jeans that make him think about retiring to the countryside after he kills the Joker
  • (He also keeps fashion magazines hidden in it)


  • Every single bit of Tony Hawk brand clothing he could get his hands on
  • Converse sneakers
  • The rich kid sweater album
  • Too many polo shirts 
  • A terrible purple suit Steph got him
  • Stale meme shirts he wears ironically

Jean Paul

  • Hot pink socks
  • Crocs
  • Old sweaters he gets at thrift shops
  • A pimp hat, but he doesn’t even realize it’s a pimp hat (he also got this a thrift shop)
  • Band t-shirts for the most obscure shit ever
  • Hand sewed capes and cloaks he makes for the batfamily for their D&D nights
  • His costume


  • Leg warmers she stole from Barbara
  • One of Jason’s favorite leather jackets (Which she stole)
  • A pair of Tim’s sneakers
  • Jean Paul’s cape that he made for her
  • Five of Bruce’s ties
  • One of Harper’s flannel button ups
  • One of Jason’s motorcycle helmets
  • Her black dress



  • A nice variety of formal wear that isn’t just one suit/dress or just one color
  • A good variety of shoes that aren’t old or something she obsessively collects
  • Comfortable robes and pajamas
  • Her wigs
  • (Other women’s lingerie)


  • The most amount of suits in the Batfamily
  • Uniforms from every private school he’s been kicked out of
  • Alfred the Cat’s cat bed
  • The swords that Bruce won’t allow him to keep out in the open
  • A safe with a duffel bag that has the supplies he needs if he has to go on the run


  • Signed band/singer/rapper t-shirts that he would never wear
  • A Batman hoodie (He says if he ever becomes Batman that’s what his costume is going to be)
  • His costume(s; he keeps his Robin one for nostalgia sakes)
  • Power Rangers, Tokusatsu, and anime cosplays he’s made and wore
  • Cool sunglasses (He stole some of them from other heroes and villains)


  • Ripped up jeans
  • Very nice leather jackets (Jason asks her where she gets them from every time they meet)
  • Bisexual pride shirts
  • Flannel button ups
  • Tons of boots
  • A gross ass jumpsuit that she wears for when she has to do electric work in the sewers


  • Some very nice suits, which are the only nice clothes he has
  • Jorts
  • Tank tops
  • Basketball jerseys
  • Lab coats
  • Sandals that he wears with socks
I’m Sorry (I Fell In Love Tonight)

( PROMPT: We’re making out on the couch when a member of your family - who doesn’t know we’re friends with benefits - walks in and what do you mean I have to be your pretend girlfriend? )

A/N: I’M BACK!! FIRST STORY SINCE MY ARRIVAL IN ROME!! I’ll be posting sneak peeks of my stories, as well as edits and graphics on my Instagram (3rdgymbros), so do follow me there!! Comments and reblogs are appreciated! I love you guys!!

WARNINGS: Sin. But slight sin this time. 

Taglist (temporary, for this series only): @mashed-fandom-imagines | @gryffindoggo | @ardenthly | @hawkiye

Taglist (permanent): @mainspidey | @x-wing-starwriter |@tomsleftbrow |@tryn25|@tanglefire | @midnight-memorial | @tiny-friggin-human |@tacklemyackles|@fangeekkk |@beamagtuto | @captainaudreystark | @hellosuperewczi | @dasia-aye

Hands, warm and strong, grip your hips. Peter’s lips, so firm yet soft, press against yours. His mouth slants against yours, seeking and ravenous, sucking on your lips and tongue. Moaning, you arch into him, your fingers tangled in his silky hair.

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Magnetic [Part 2/2]

Based on “Shape of You” by Ed Sheeran

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Explicit Language, Unprotected Sex (wrap it up before you fuck it up), Use of Alcohol, Strong Sexual Reference and Suggestive Themes. 

Word Count: 4.6k+

A/N: The grand conclusion to this little smutty fic, we’re quite frankly jumping into the fray right off the bat so enjoy! x. T

>> Read Part One <<

Brooklyn, New York  |  7:19 AM

.   .   .

You were hot, every inch of your skin doused in what felt like lava, but you couldn’t bother to pay heed to anything except the otherworldly pleasure coursing through your entirety in that moment. 

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Sky Blue Walls.

28. “You’re still mad?”


You were painting your kitchen. Kiwi blasting throughout the house as you danced around. Your worn out denim overall had paint all over it of different colors and your hair up in a wild bun.

“I’m having your babay! It’s not your business!” You sang out of tune, twirling yourself before painting the wall. You were alone in the house; Harry had interviews and meetings all day and you wanted to surprise him with the new painted kitchen walls of your shared flat.

To say you were excited would be an understatement. Your newly sky blue painted kitchen walls made you grin as it exchanged the black painting which you despised and made you feel gloomy whenever you were cooking.

After finally finishing and taking a well earned shower, you sat in the living room, calling Harry to ask him when was he coming.

“Hi, Haz.” You sat on your stomach, your feet in the air.

“Hey, baby. How are you?”

“I’m good. Great even. I wanted to know when are you going to come? I miss you and I have a surprise.” You grinned.

“Should I be scared?” Harry chuckled through the phone.

“No.” You laughed.

“I’ll be home in 5, love. And I miss you too.” He replied.

“Alright. Fancy some pizza?” You asked.

“So much.”

“On it. I’m waiting for you. Love you.”

“Love you too, munchkin. Bye.” And he hung up. You order yours and Harry’s favorite pizza and turned on the television as an attempt to contain your excitement.

Minutes later, you heard the sound of keys and the door opening, making you grin and go to the door to find Harry closing the door and taking off his shoes. He lifted his head, a tired smile on his face once he saw you and opened his arms.

You jumped on him, placing your lips on his. “How was your day?” You asked him.

Harry, still carrying you, shrugged, “Shitty. Tiring. I just want a really nice shower then a really nice cuddle with my gorgeous girlfriend.” He said before pecking your lips.

You kissed his cheek before jumping back in the floor and holding his hand. “I have to show you something.”

You began dragging him behind you and into the kitchen. You turned to see him, his smile dropping and reflexively, yours did. “You don’t like it?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were going to paint the kitchen?” Harry asked, looking at you and crossing his arms across his chest.

“I just wanted to surprise you.” You shrugged.

“So you take decisions in our shared flat? Alone?” He raised a brow.

“Don’t look at it like that. I mean, we both talked a few months ago about changing the color and you said it would be fine if we painted it sky blue or deep green so I thought…” You stopped, playing with your fingers.

“We’ll talk about this later. I’m tired.” And with that, he went upstairs, took a shower and slept. No cuddles. Pizza for one.

The next day, you were in the kitchen making breakfast and suddenly, sky blue didn’t look nice anymore. You put the last pancake on the plate and turned around, almost dropping the plate in fear, “Jesus, Harry, I didn’t know you woke up.” You breathed out before putting his plate in front of him.

He only gave you a side halfhearted smile in return as he began eating. You sat on the chair opposite to him, eating in silence. Something you both rarely did. “You’re still mad?” You asked.

He sighed, putting his fork down, “I’m not mad. I’m a dick. I shouldn’t have been like that. I was just tired and I was surprised.”

“You looked mad.” You muttered, playing with your piece of pancake.

Harry stood up, approaching you from behind and wrapping his arms around you before giving your neck a chaste kiss, “I’m sorry. It honestly looks nice and cheerful. Better than black.”


“Yes, I promise. Now we can cook more without both of us feeling gloomy.” He chuckled before nudging your cheek with his nose.

You grinned, “Cookies?”

“What are you waiting for? Let’s bake our asses off!”

Originally posted by stylesinthewild

Military boy

i don’t know where this idea came from but somehow it popped in my head, the premise is your one of carl’s military dude officer guy’s daughter and you hook up and then he takes you on a good ole gallagher adventure. that’s not proper english whateverusebusebeuhsdfbjsc jsdbsbud

also it’s unintentionally deep in some parts idk this is like a mini story rather than any kind of simple smut I LIKE REAL STORIES OKAY SOMETIMES I WANT TO WRITE MORE THAN JUST CARL BEING A HORNY BOY LET ME LIVE

Word count: 3,413

Originally posted by carlscrib

Your dad had served in the military since way before you were born, and he had recently taken a job at a military school. When you thought of military school you thought only of privileged guys who had nothing better to do with their lives then prepare to die for their country. You appreciated anyone in the military of course, and you understand it was necessary, but growing up watching your dad fall apart made you hate it. Every time he would put himself back together only to fall apart again. He was a military dad stereotype when it came to his protectiveness and worry, but you had to hear and watch the real aftermath of what his life had done to him.

It was the weekend and you were going to work with your dad. Not in a bonding type of way, but you had gotten busted for sneaking out and he didn’t trust you to be home alone by yourself for the day. You sat in silence in the car on the way to the military school you had never once visited, or had any desire to. 

“You know I’m bringing you with me because I care about you. I don’t want you going any further down this path you want to take.” Your dad said breaking the silence for the first time in the twenty minute ride.

“Me going to work with you for a day won’t change my life. Only gonna make me want to go further down that path to get away from you.” You retort, still angry with him for his large absence in your lonely childhood. He just sighs, knowing he can’t win with his military man attitude vs your angry teenage girl attitude. You leaned your head against the window and scrolled through your phone and checked on various social medias. You watched as your dad reached for the air conditioner button and turned it up more. You were already cold in your dress, so you immediately turned the knob the opposite direction after his hand returned to the wheel. From the corner of your eye you saw him glance over at you and shake his head slightly. You rolled your eyes and dropped your phone into your lap. You fumbled with the edge of your dress until you pulled up to the gates of the school. 

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anonymous asked:

is it wrong to have a wallet chain? is this the next 'can't tie your shirt on your hips' kinda thing?

um first of all everyone can tie their shirts around their waists i really don’t understand why everyone made fun of him for this:

it’s super fucking hot and i wish he had kept it like that for the whole day but alas~

the thing with the wallet chain is that jensen tends to wear some incredibly… hipster dad clothes. in his downtime he dresses like a 90s grunge store thrift shopper rock star and it drives me absolutely wild for some reason. this post is me. 

most obvious example of this heart-stopping aesthetic is of course the wallet chain:

and even worse is the pharrell hat (plus a bonus wallet chain??):

the denim jacket is also a nice touch. put jensen in more worn denim jackets 2k17.

other honorable mentions: the hideous mustard pants and jensen’s collection of bracelets.

he hasn’t really experimented with shoes much yet, but i would KILL to see him in this pair that misha has:

they definitely fit his style. these plus the above denim jacket? that’s it goodbye i am down for the count, mi amigo.

anyway my ultimate wish is for ^ those shoes + pharrell hat + wallet chain + beard onstage at a panel. i have been mercilessly kinkshamed for this (aHEM MCK AYL A) but i refuse to give up hope.

(so no, the wallet chain is not a bad thing at all.)


Tenth installment of the Jacob Black “Home” series (“Home” - “Familiarities” - “Reunion” - “Pitching Fits”- “Grand Gestures” - “Jail Break” - “Ice” - “Head Trauma” - “Changing Tides”), requested by too many of you to count! As always, more installments will be rolling in to follow the events of the series, but I’d love to hear feedback or ideas involving future installments! Hope you like it!

All past and future installments of this series can be found on the “The Story Continues…”page. Songs to accompany the series are available on the “Playlists” page.

Saturday came streaming in through your bedroom windows on the heels of brilliant sunlight, as if the very promise of your best friend’s company had the power to wipe the condensation from the sky. You were bolt upright in bed before your body was fully ready for the transition, your vision fading around the edges as your excitement swallowed the fluid swirling behind your eardrums. Your feet struck hardwood with a firm conviction, ignoring the chill that had been marinating within the boards throughout the night, taking you blindly to Charlie’s bright kitchen. The Chief had already high-tailed it to the station, as was evident by your fleeting glance at the coat hangers by the front door; his holster as well as his officer’s jacket, the Letterman of adult life, were absent from the family line-up, proving his absence. It had to be sometime after nine, you concluded, as you stumbled into the kitchen. You reached absentmindedly for a cabinet door, proceeding to extract one of Charlie’s old ceramic breakfast bowls, your hands groping without sight at the counter top until your fingertips encountered the worn cardboard that encased whichever store-brand cereal had been on sale that week. You poured yourself a sustainable amount of… whatever catchy rhyme Fork’s supermarket had deemed necessary to slap on the box of bran flakes, walking toward the refrigerator with the same inattentive determination, sniffing the milk cautiously before drowning your cold breakfast in Bessie’s best.

Bella could be heard upstairs, her footsteps sounding as she burnt a path between her dresser and her vanity, clearly uncertain as to the proper attire one might bring to a beach in quite possibly the rainiest county in all of Washington state. A swimsuit was absolutely out of the question, but the sunlight must have confounded her, muddling her logic and tearing her mind in two between shorts and a raincoat. You’d let her figure it out; your only concern was choking down your breakfast and getting yourself out the door; the sooner you hit the road, the longer you could stay at La Push… and every extra minute you could milk out of your day with Jacob was monumental. When the last of the cereal had been devoured, the bowl lowering unceremoniously from your lips, you were flying toward your bedroom, resting the bowl in the basin of the kitchen sink with a considerably less delicate fashion than the ceramic deserved, your memory straining to recall which articles of clothing had recently been washed before you had even made it to your dresser. You selected, without any great focus on fashion, whatever your hands had first made contact with, ending your violent dressing escapade with minimal injuries and a tee shirt you were sure once belonged to Charlie draped on the much smaller frame of your shoulders. Judgement was the least of your worries; neither Bella nor Jacob would mind much that you were recycling the Chief’s wardrobe. The rest, save Angela, wouldn’t be seeing you for very long anyway. You snagged your raincoat from the back of your door as you headed out, prepping your vocals to call your sister to action.

Bella was thumping her way down the staircase as you bolted from your bedroom, her eyes brightening to see you already prepared for the journey to Newton’s Olympic Outfitters, her lips parting over an easy smile to see you so electrified. She gestured towards the front door, herding you out of the house as you worked your arms through your raincoat, her slender fingers working her own coat from the hangers by the door before following you into the sunshine. You jogged wordlessly to the passenger side of your sister’s beast of a truck, your hand on the handle before she had made it to her door, her keys jingling merrily as she unlocked the driver’s side. She slipped into her seat, leaning across the cabin to unlock your door, her eyes rolling to see your frustrated reaction to her all-too-slow movements. You leapt into the truck, the engine igniting as you closed your door, Bella’s hushed mumbles all but lost beneath the gravelly roar; you managed to catch something along the lines of “where’s the fire?” before her lips pressed into a concentrated line, muffling any oncoming laughter she thought you wouldn’t find amusing.

She drove quietly, as was often the custom in the mornings so as not to disturb the peace of daybreak, her fingers clinging loosely to the leather steering wheel as she paved her way to Newton’s Olympic Outfitters to meet up with the rest of her friend group, her warm eyes paving the road before her truck, brightened considerably from the sunshine. She remarked briefly on how she hoped the weather would last, and you quietly reassured her that sunlight this bright hardly ever faded before the day was through; Forks may be wet, dismal, and constantly buried beneath the clouds, but when the sun decided to grace the town with its presence, it tended to stick for a good handful of hours. She relaxed into the upholstery, noticeably calmer as your words washed over her, her turn signal blinking meekly as she turned into the lot of Mike Newton’s family-run camping store. Your least favourite spiky-haired junior came rushing to Bella’s window, followed closely by Tyler Crowley’s overeager grin, the second Bella pulled her keys from the ignition. You were thankful, then, that you had a solid escape route; you didn’t think you’d be able to stay docile if you were to spend more than an hour in Newton’s presence. You joined the rabble and claimed your seats (you found yourself squashed between Bella and a window, with Mike behind the wheel of his Suburban, Bella eyeballing you warily before sliding into her newly acquired position as middleman. To be fair, you had warned her that you were fully prepared to use her as a buffer to separate yourself from Mike Newton. The rest of the gang piled into Mike’e backseat and Tyler’s Sentra, your humble caravan making its way toward the reservation line. You were all but consumed with excitement by the time your ride slowed to a park at the edge of First Beach, the driftwood-littered span of coastline humming warmly as it absorbed the generous rays of sunshine, drinking it like honey as it reached through the sky.

You slipped from the passenger seat, your sneakers encountering the smooth stones so typical of La Push’s waterlines, your feet sinking slightly into the sand as you tread on towards the water, your eyes scanning the shore for the silhouette you so desired. The wind blew brine against your skin, your eyes squinting against the gentle gusts, your face burning like the end of a live wire from the sudden chill the air had kissed along your cheekbones. There were hardly any visitors by the water, though there was an abandoned fire pit already constructed just west of the path your sister’s friends were following to the sea. Bella’s hand smoothed over your shoulder, her voice low in your ear.

“Hey, I need to borrow Jacob before we leave. I’m trying to get a hold of some fish fry, I want to see if his dad has anything in his freezer. Just… I’ll need to steal him when you make your way back to the beach, if that works for you. There’s just a few things I want to ask him before we leave,” she concluded, her eyes firing unspoken inquiries atop her previous question, asking wordlessly if she was set to continue while you were making your escape. You shot her a smile, assuring her that her plan was perfectly acceptable as you backed up a step, your hand propelled her forward. Her palm slipped from your borrowed shirt as she stumbled to meet her friends, walking in step with Angela Weber, who waved her goodbyes over her shoulder, glasses glinting in the sunlight.

“I was worried you weren’t going to show,” Jacob’s voice crawled through your skin, seeping into your veins and lighting your heart ablaze. You spun on your heel, watching him saunter somewhat clumsily from around Mike Newton’s bumper, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his worn denim jeans. You rushed him, throwing your arms around his neck before he had time to properly react. Instead, he absorbed the shock of impact, staggering back a step before his arms had the freedom necessary to close around your back, his palms warming your skin through the Chief’s weathered tee shirt. His laughter rumbled from his chest and into yours, his voice giddy in your ear, his lips mere inches from your hair. “It’s good to see you too, Y/n.” You separated, your hands falling to Jacob’s forearms, his palms still planted on your waist, holding you at a distance or perhaps hungry for contact, his dark eyes glinting joyfully. “You’d think I just came back from war with that reception.” You rolled your eyes, slipping away from his grasp and falling in step with his stride, waving to Bella with Jacob doing the same beside you before you dared to turn your body away from the shoreline, the two of you retreating in the direction of his house.

“It’s been one Hell of a week, Jake. Forgive me if I seem happy to see my best friend,” you bumped into his side, his smile widening over brilliantly white teeth, his hand brushing against the back of your own. “I’ve been counting down the days until this trip for a week now. Just to get away from everyone drilling us about the accident… God, it’s like I can finally breathe again.” Jacob grimaced sympathetically, his stride shortening to allow you to close the fragment of distance that had blossomed between you, a natural result of your varying heights.

“Happy to be of service,” he chuckled, his eyes dancing in the light of day, his long hair shining at the crown of his head like polished obsidian. He had his hair tied at the nape of his neck with a rubber band to keep it from obstructing his vision, but that didn’t keep it from memorizing yours. You walked a few paces in silence, your arm all but glued to his own, his skin warming you through like a hot water bottle wherever you touched, his knuckles grazing your own with each step you took together. After a while, Jacob took a deep breath, inhaling slowly before releasing the contents of his lungs in a quick, jolting exhale. You were nearly at his home now; his garage was within view, the tallest cedars kept at bay by the edge of the property line encasing his little red house. He spoke as you inched down his street, your feet crushing gravel as you moved. “So, the last time we spoke, or the time before that I guess, I asked you a pretty important question,” he began, his voice solid despite his physical unease; his shoulders had become stiff from the nervous weight of his words, though he was loose where his skin met yours. You nodded slowly, his eyes burning into yours as you moved. “I was hoping to cash-in on that, well… that date, if that’s alright with you.” You smiled warmly, watching his expression bloom with wondrous, blissful victory.

“Anything to put Quil at ease,” you laughed, continuing despite his exasperated glance, his smile clear in your peripheral vision, “I only wish you would’ve told me we were doing this today, Jake. I would’ve gone for something my own size,” you laughed, pinching at the hemline of your shirt with the hand closest to Jacob, his laughter filtering through the air like a breeze. His hand inched over yours, his fingertips grazing the backside of your hand, turning your palm to meet his own. His fingers laced effortlessly with yours, your gait slowing considerably as your hands fell between your bodies, locked together in warmth and peace and thrilling comfort. It was a natural engagement, holding hands with your childhood friend, but the contact was now weighted with heavy implications, sinking like lead in still water beneath the burden of such wild emotions. This was no common act; this was entirely new territory, and Jacob had just paved the first road through the otherwise unbroken wilderness. His thumb passed a circle over your skin, his exhale softening the sky above you. You were quiet, then, absorbed entirely in the honey of the moment, your silence broken only when Jacob’s voice perked up through the air, cutting the quiet cleanly, his volume docked to a gravelly whisper.

“Well, I was planning something for a little earlier, but someone went and got hit by a car. It was completely out of my control,” you giggled at his expression, his eyes rolling back in his head as he professed his innocence, his smile blindingly bright as he beamed down at you, your bodies moving ever closer as you continued past his front door, your feet carrying you without thought to Jacob’s garage. He seemed reluctant to release your hand as you passed into the open space, his hand remaining closed around yours as you moved to sit on the bench beside his work table, your foot nudging a piece of metal that was nestled in the dirt, unaccounted for. Jacob’s body was pressed against your side, his hand squeezing yours tentatively. You lifted your gaze from his silken russet skin melting into yours, locking into his gaze. “Are you doing okay? Anything still hurting since…?” he whispered, his concern obvious behind the frail exterior wall of nerves that had been erected within his irises. You shook your head, ignoring the dull ache in your ribs from the faded print Edward Cullen had left on your skin, pressing your lips together as you pretended to assess your damages.

“Nope, everything seems to be in working order. Can’t move my right hand anymore, but other than that, I seem to have emerged unscathed,” you jested, watching Jacob’s cheeks darken as your words melted against his skin, his eyes sparkling with humour. His thumb rubbed another circle against the backside of your hand, his breath deep and easy. “Much better now that you’re here, actually. Don’t let it go to your head, though.” Jacob beamed, his happiness infectious, travelling from his palm to yours like a volt of clandestine lightning.

“It’s too late for that,” he chuckled, his voice cracking some, his eyes locked on your hand in his. He bit his lower lip anxiously, raising his eyes to meet yours, a somewhat guilty expression consuming his features. “I don’t really have much planned, as far as an activity. I figured we could, you know, just hang around and talk, but if you want to head back to the beach at some point-” he began, his voice low and honest, his eyes open as they bored into yours. You grinned, giving him a simple squeeze, sending a pule of reassurance from your hand through to his.

“Hey, it doesn’t have to be so drastically different than what we’re used to, Jake. I’m fine with just talking to you and enjoying the sunshine,” he sighed, relieved, laughing quietly at his own tension. “We’ll have to head back at some point, but there’s no rush. Bells wants to talk to you, something about fish fry. She’ll probably give you some sort of talk about… well, this, but she’s not the type to interject too much. We have plenty of time to construct your defense before then.” Jacob smiled warmly, moving to stand before you, his hand tugging you up to meet him, his chest mere inches from your own before he began moving backwards.

“Let’s enjoy that sunshine,” he grinned, walking backwards until he had successfully pulled you from the shade of the garage and into the temporary brilliance of the sunlight.

Freedom Part 3 (Greaser!Peter Parker x Reader AU)

Originally posted by arachnidiot

Request: hi doll i was wondering if i could request a kinda greaser!peter parker au? like he saves you from your dick boyfriend and idk fluffy shit lmao sorry if this prompt sucks

Read Part 2 here

A.N. : Sorry this took so long, I was working on some other stories. Thank you for your patience and support! Let me know if you guys like the story, or if you want to see something happen in it, in the future. I love when you guys give me suggestions! Anyway, Hope you enjoy babes!

- Written by Kat - 

The next morning, you woke up not knowing where you were. Filled with momentary panic, you bolted upright. You looked around, realizing that you were on someone’s couch in what looked like a city apartment. Swinging your legs off the couch to stand up, your bare feet landed on something warm that groaned at the weight of your feet. Jerking your feet back, you looked down only to see Peter sprawled on the floor next to the couch, a blanket tangled around his legs. His eyes were closed, making him look peaceful and calm, such a contrast to how you normally saw him around the jocks. Then it all came rushing back; the party, the jacket, Peter, Jake, the fight. Your tongue ran along your lower lip, grazing over the healing cut, the taste of blood still in your mouth. How had it come to this?

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Sk8er Girl CH2 (Trixya)- Squeaky Pink
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Trixya!HS AU. Trixie is a nerdy, girly girl with bows and frills. Katya is a skater chick with scuffed knees and a  Flazéda attitude. When they’re assigned as lab partners, can they discover chemistry together?

Or: She was a sk8er girl. She said see you later girl. She wasn’t good enough for her (or was she?).

[AN: Pink Shrooms aka Squeaky Pink. We’re writing this together but alternating chapters and POVs. Pinky is Trixie’s POV and Squeaky is Katya’s POV. We wanted to write the ending of this chapter based on the actual experience of a friend. The goal was to emulate life it its honest, messy way.]

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Married at First Sight II, a walking dead fanfic
Rick's POV on his brand-new wife. A/N: I enjoyed writing the last chapter so much and so many of you requested a follow-up, so I decided to turn this into a mini-fic. I might write one or two more chapters along these lines. I hope you enjoy!

Originally posted by scandamonium

“This is nice.” Michonne’s quiet compliment cut through the otherwise quiet morning. She was walking stealthily beside him, her feet scarcely making a sound as they traipsed through what would soon be their community.

“It was part of the project that created Alexandria. Took a few weeks to clear it out. In a month or two, we had a proper wall up,” he gestured behind them to the steel plates shutting out the outside world. Michonne took them in calmly, her large brown eyes inspecting her surroundings carefully. She was an interesting woman, Rick was sure of that. He’d seen her before, gone on runs with her even. She was always quiet, calculating, careful, almost studious. On the road, he had never seen her smile or heard her laugh. He’d heard her laugh last night. He also had heard her gasping in pleasure.

His wife. It was a strange reality to confront in the light of day. Like waking up in a dream, he was sure he’d imagined the night before. She was so shy, so tentative, nervous even. It caught him off-guard. The Michonne he knew was always sure of herself.

Then again, he didn’t really know her. At least, not outside of the Biblical sense.

“Which one is ours?” her voice startled him from his musings. He turned to look at her. She was staring back expectantly. He took a moment to observe her, her long, dark lashes, her round nose, her full, heart-shaped mouth. Her dark hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail. The effect was just as pretty as her elaborate updo had been for their wedding. She was beautiful and she was married to him.

“I thought I would ask you to pick,” he nodded in the direction of the large houses. “I figured maybe you should get a say.” He meant it as a joke, but instantly regretted it. Michonne had not picked him. He had been chosen for her. It was a daunting thought.

She smiled at him, the corners of her mouth lifting prettily. “Can we pick together?” she adjusted the katana strung across her back. Rick felt himself touch his Colt Python almost instinctively.

“I’d like that,” he reached for her hand before he could think better of it. He had dated a girl once before, a pretty, waifish brunette. She hadn’t been cut out for this world, and he couldn’t save her, but he did learn everything he knew about romance from the experience. She had told him that he was too touchy, always kissing or hugging on her when they were alone. He wondered if his wife would feel the same.

Her slim, dark hand tensed for just a moment at his touch, then she relaxed, lacing her fingers around his. “Lead the way,” she instructed.

They strolled through the street in silence, listening carefully for any sign of walkers. Michonne’s eyes stayed on a constant swivel, bouncing from the houses to the yards between them.

“Do you like any of them?” he wished he had something better to say than these simple questions, but the woman who was now his wife robbed him of his ability to be clever. He had never found the confidence to say more than a few words to her all those times before. That did not stop him from jumping at the opportunity when his parents began to mention picking a partner for him. Their system may have been antiquated, but following his parents’ orders had kept him alive this long.

“The blue one is pretty,” her girlish comment brought a smile to his face. He had hoped she would pick that one. Glenn and Daryl had helped him paint it before it occurred to Rick that he should ask his wife what she thought.

“We can go look at it. Just give me a second to clear it out,” he released her hand, reaching instead for his gun.

Her fingers clutching his arm made him pause. For a moment, he thought she might have been frightened, but her resolved expression soon dispelled that myth. “Together,” she said simply.

He held the door open for her, watching her draw her sword. From the foyer, to the kitchen, to the living room, they quickly canvased the downstairs. When they reached the upstairs bedrooms, Rick felt his heart begin to race.

“What do you think?” he watched her circle the bed in the master bedroom, trying and failing miserably to not think of their first night together. All her uncertainty had vanished once he pressed his lips to hers last night. He could still feel her fingers in his hair, her legs wrapped around his waist, the heat of her, pulling and clutching at him until he felt like he might die of pleasure. Her gasps and moans still rung in his ears.

“It has a good vantage point,” she went to the window, peering out. “You can see almost all of the community from here. That could come in handy.” She gazed back at him, then looked quickly away. “Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked quietly.

“Like what?” Rick was certain that he was drooling a bit, but he could not help it.

“Like that,” she found the courage to look up again, the hint of a blush beneath her coppery cheeks. “Even before the wedding, you would look at me.” She turned to face him, waiting expectantly.

Rick felt his own cheeks coloring. “You’re beautiful.”

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