cherry red lipstick

what the zodiac signs are made of

Aries: cherry red lipstick and feminism

Taurus: chocolate fudge cake and romantic rose gardens at 5PM

Gemini: bees

Cancer: hot chocolate with marshmallows and crippling self-esteem issues

Leo: brilliant smiles and paint stained skinny jeans

Virgo: raised eyebrows and aesthetically pleasing minimalistic items

Libra: cabrio rides with their significant other and striped crop tops

Scorpio: Witchcraft and intense staring contests with strangers

Sagittarius: Pinboards with magnets from all over the world and nerdy glasses that are too big for their faces

Capricorn: Grey business suits and long conversations about the meaning of life at night

Aquarius: Rainbows and brutal honesty

Pisces: Seashells at the shore and struggles to keep themselves alive

anonymous asked:

what would each of the chocobros' reaction be to their s/o applying makeup on them in their sleep?


  • He wakes up long after the damage is already done
  • Lopsided winged eyeliner, cherry red lipstick, the works
  • Of course he doesn’t even notice any of it until halfway through the day, when Prompto can’t even look him in the eyes without laughing and you refuse to let him kiss you
  • “What’s going on? Did I do something?”
  • “No Noct you just….. have something…… on your face…….”
  • So he goes to wipe his face and just smears his lipstick right across his cheeks
  • Makes you help him take it off immediately
  • “I can’t believe you let me go in public like this”
  • “I trusted you”
  • “Noct, it was just some makeup”
  • Gladio tells him he was a pretty girl
  • “Damn right I was”
  • “Highness, it was a good shade of red for you. I believe that Y/N truly had your best interests in mind”
  • wtf Ignis you can’t take their side”
  • He vows to never fall asleep near you again
  • You’re sleeping together again within the week

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blue cookies and cherry red lips

Soooooo I haven’t written anything in a (very long) while, and I realized that I’ve been doing nothing and that I should be at least writing something, so here you go. Basically, it’s a percabeth candy shop thing. Enjoy.

Percy absentmindedly looked through his phone, not noticing the bell ring as the door opened. He was so used to the bell that he barely noticed it anymore. It has been 11 years since the shop opened anyway, and he’d come home to the candy shop ever since then.

His mother, Sally, got the idea of the candy shop when he was 5 after she realized her success with baking and making candy could attract people. So, with her emergency money and a couple of investors’ money, she bought a small place for a candy shop with an apartment above it. She remodeled the place and after a year, she opened the shop and ever since then it had become his safe place where he could hide from bullies and Smelly Gabe.

He heard someone clear their throat and hastily hid his phone and shot up from the stool he was sitting on. The moment he looked at the customer did he realize that he probably shouldn’t have been on his phone and maybe sprayed on some cologne or something.

The customer was a very very, pretty girl with golden princess curls that made him want to reach out to touch the silky locks. She had stormy gray eyes that were looking at him piercingly and he realized that he’d never seen those color eyes before. She was standing with her arms crossed in a school uniform he recognized, belonging to a school in the more posh side of Manhattan where he’d had a swim meet at once. He stood there like an idiot staring at her until she cleared her throat.

“Um,” He coughed. “hello. Welcome to Sally’s Candy Shop.” He scrambled to say, his hand flying to his neck.

She chuckled at him, mirth dancing in her eyes, making him awkwardly smile. “Do you have any candy that isn’t,” she looked around at the candy, “blue?”

He laughed, now at ease. “Oh yeah, it’s a sort of inside joke I have with my mom and it led to an obsession with blue food.”

“And what’s the inside joke?” She asked, a smile on her face.

“Basically my ex step-dad and mom had an argument about how food can’t be blue, so my mom just went ahead and dyed all of our food blue for the rest of the week until he admitted that he was wrong.” He chuckled at the memory of Smelly Gabe’s face of having to admit that he was wrong.

She laughed. “So, your mom’s the owner of this place?” 

“Yeah, she bakes everything in here. I help her and all, but between school and swim practice, I can’t really help her as much as I’d like to.” He shrugged.

“You swim?” She shifted her weight to her other side.

“Yep. I’m the swim team captain of Goode High.” He said, fiddling with his hands.

“Goode…” She said, thinking, “Oh yeah! You guys came to our school a couple weeks ago, right?” Before he could say anything, she added, “You’re the guy that everyone was talking about, one of the best swimmers in the state right now.”

He blushed and bit his lip, playing with his lip ring. “I guess you could say that.”

She chuckled leaned on the counter, putting both hands on it. She was looking at his lip ring. He took the time to notice how her nails were painted a dark red, going with her meticulously done uniform and her cherry red lipstick. Once again, she was very pretty.

Another customer entered the store and interrupted his musings, making him realize that he was staring again. She glanced at the customer, noticing her arrival, and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear glancing back at Percy.

“So, what’d you like?” Percy asked.

“What do you recommend?” She smiled and Percy felt like he needed to take a photo of her smile before he could forget it.

“Now,” He leaned closer to her and felt her do the same. “I gotta tell you a secret, but you gotta swear that you won’t tell anyone.” He grinned and she nodded and felt them get closer. He lowered his voice, “I normally don’t tell anyone about this because I like to keep the leftovers to myself,” at this, she laughed, “but the blue cookies are the best.”

She grinned. “Then I’ll take those.”

After a moment, he leaned back to get the cookies and realized how close they were. “Be right back,” He said to her and went to the back and grabbed a batch of cookies that he kept hidden. 

He went back to the counter put the batch on the counter. “Only because you complimented my absolutely fabulous,” he flipped his blue tipped hair dramatically, “swimming skills,” she laughed at his actions and remained grinning, “I’ll let you try a couple for free.”

“Hmm. I’ll think about complimenting you again next time too, but I’m afraid I’d inflate your ego even more.” She said, taking a cookie and he laughed out loud.

She bit into it and she let out a small moan at the taste and Percy practically melted. In his mind, he thought of a thousand better ways to make her moan again-

“This is so good.” She said, interrupting his train of thought.

He coughed, glad that he had such tan skin so his blush wasn’t very noticeable. “Now you understand why I hide them?” He asked.

She took another and nodded. “How much are they?”

“Free for you,” He replied.

“What? No. I’m paying you.” She protested.

“Nope,” he shook his head as he put the cookies in a bag for her. “My treat.” He handed her the bag, “The only thing I want is your name.”

She rolled her eyes, albeit fondly and took the bag from him. “It’s Annabeth.” Annabeth, Percy thought. Pretty name. “Yours?” She asked.

“Percy,” He answered. She took some money out her bag and put it inside of the tip jar. 

He rushed to protest, but she stopped him. “Don’t worry about it, Percy.” She turned around and as she was leaving, she asked, “By any chance, is your favorite color blue?”

“Maybe.” He replied. She grinned at him and opened the door to leave to the store, and he decided that he didn’t need to take a photo of her smile because he wouldn’t be able to forget it.

Aaaaand then he realized that he left the other customer in the store waiting for quite the long time judging from the impatient tap of her foot and her accusing stare. Shit

That Saturday, she came in wearing a blue skirt and a blue ribbon in her hair and asked for another batch of blue cookies. He didn’t let her pay again, and she might’ve given him her number.

If y’all didn’t notice, I put a little bit of Punk Percy and Girly Annabeth. But only a little bit. Oh, and thank you for reading!

give or receive kisses | riverdale preferences


preference:whether they prefer to be the one who kisses or the one who receives the kisses.

written by: kelly

song: fake magic / peking duck & aluna george

Originally posted by colexlili

jughead: jughead is totally the one who would dominate when it comes to the passionate side of your relationship, especially the kissing. he was totally infatuated with the shape of your lips, it was one of the many things that people didn’t really expect from him. his home life naturally left him craving a stable and steady love that you provided with ease. this not only made him comfortable to be himself but it made him more open affectionately. he is very much into pda and he wants people to know that you’re his girlfriend (cries in 42 different languages)

Originally posted by archic-andrews

archie: archie is a total sucker for kisses. there was this romantic side to him that not many people got to see, he was very private when it came to intimacy after the whole grundy (bitch) incident. for the longest time your kisses where in empty hallways in-between classes. you were pressed up against the locker and his hand was placed gently on your lower back. after a few months he got more into showing off your relationship. he would play with your hair at pops and kiss on your cheeks. everyone would think it was crazy that he wouldn’t kiss you around them, but for you it was perfectly fine. you’d rather have those moments be intimate anyway, like it was all your little secret.

Originally posted by riverdale-slut

reggie: total pda freak. one of the many things that reggie hid from people was the fact that he was always very insecure. he never thought he was good enough to hold a relationship until he met you. due to his own personal issues, he loved to make it a known fact that you were his girlfriend, and only his. he wasn’t this douche that he made himself out to be. he was a kind and compassionate person, he would go and play football with the kids in his street and show you this beautiful and gentle reggie that you fell deeply for. at school he would twirl you around and kiss you dead on the lips, all of the guys would cheer and holler like a bunch of giddy kids. he didn’t care at all though, he made sure that you felt loved and that you knew the true reggie.

Originally posted by supagirl

veronica: the smooth and relaxed ronnie was well and truly a princess. she loved to be dotted on and was happier to receive the kiss than give it. she had a very flirtatious nature, so people would automatically assume that she was into them. this was not the case at all. she only had enough room in her heart to love you. she never would act on impulses and would set people straight if they ever tried to hook up with her. when you kissed, they would be oozing with passion.

Originally posted by phebobuffay

betty:  elizabeth cooper was a jeckyll and hyde type of lover. her goody two shoes attitude would be out of the window when it came to all sides of your love life. kissing was full of lip biting, teasing and grinding. that was all behind closed doors though. in public, her persona would change and it would be all sweet little pecks and kisses on the cheeks. dark betty was a fierce and lustful kisser. sweet betty was a smooth and quick kisser.

Originally posted by stiles-lydia

cheryl: cheryl and jughead had a lot more in common than people thought. they both came from fairly turbulent homes. she knew what she wanted when it came to a relationship and she was totally the dominant type. the kissing was always very sudden and brought on by her. the cherry red lipstick would smudge all over your lips and her delicate fingers would trail all over your body. after the messy make out session she would fix her hair and lips, walk out with a smirk placed firmly on her porcelain face.


Things The Riverdale Characters Remind Me Of
  • Jughead: Black coffee, the feeling you get when you're awake at 4 am and no one else is, walking alone in the rain, knitted sweaters, bookshelves that are so full some are piled on the floor, the shivers you get when there's a breeze, thunderstorms and raining nights, gentle music that makes you feel like the world is slowing down, breaking into people's yards to get a perfect photo, passing notes in class, conspiracy theory videos, foreign films, silent movies, anything on vinyl, fresh water rivers
  • Archie: the smell of freshly cut grass, laughing so hard your ribs start to hurt, running your hands through your hair after it's just been washed, that thing where you wake up suddenly because you thought you we're falling, swimming in the summer time, running until you can't breathe, walking in the dark because you can't sleep, the colour yellow, messy hand writing, defending your friends, acoustic versions of 80s rock songs, cold showers on hot days, tight shirts, getting all of your anger out, pushing yourself as hard as you can
  • Betty: pastel colours, high pony tails, sunshine, picnics in a park, bunches of fresh flowers that we're hand picked, lace trimmings on white socks, persistence, the feeling of standing up for yourself, wanting answers, loyalty, forgiveness, writing in your journal after a bad day, the smoothness of ink out of a new pen, messy sketches in the margins of work books, neatly spaced stationary on a clean desk, stretching when you first wake up, gentle light music that you can cry to, early 2000s pop hits that you can't help but dance to, singing into a hairbrush, trying with all you have to help other people, kindness, spinning around in a flowy dress
  • Veronica: the cool feeling you get when you breathe in after chewing peppermint gum, tight dresses, dancing on tables, champagne and strawberries, deep burgundy lipstick, expensive apartments, wet hair, black swimsuits, diamond earrings, red velvet cupcakes, cute nicknames, realising you're not perfect, building from your past, pushing your friends to realise their potential, never giving up, confidence, quick comebacks, heartfelt apologies, believing in fate, finding your destiny, forgetting how to live without someone, looking out for your family, being the new kid, absolute fearlessness, knowing when to pull back and when to fight harder, getting caught in the rain and starting to dance
  • Cheryl: Red neon lights, dripping clothes and frozen fingers, the sinking feeling in your stomach when you know something bad's about to happen, hiding yourself, lying in bed and staring at the ceiling before you fall asleep, full orchestras playing in an otherwise empty hall, fresh manicures, snarky comments, masquerade balls, wedding gowns, being brave, being vulnerable, the feeling of being broken and having no where to go, overgrown ivy and hanging vines, high heels on tiled floors, red lipstick, cherry stained lips, alter candles half burnt, silk sheets, Shakespeare sonnets, silent judgement, jealousy
  • Grundy: a literal bag of shit
Hmm, falling for the maid. This could be interesting.

Authors note: I’m not too sure about this one, but it’s been saved in my drafts for a couple of weeks and I didn’t want to delete it. 


“Y/N” That’s how the last phone call I would receive from a civilian started. “You’ve now got a household to work for. Pack your things and move immediately, there will be a vehicle waiting outside for you”. The man who ran the cleaning company ordered. This wasn’t a normal cleaning company. We worked for the villains, cleaning up their houses, their messes. I was staying in a motel until work was found for me. I packed my 2 suitcases and handbag and as the man on the phone said there was a vehicle outside. A white van. I’m not going to lie, I was scared. I didn’t know where I was going. I got into the van with my suitcases and was blindfolded straight away. “Sorry Ma’am this is….” “I know, it’s not my first time” I cut the guy off. After a 45 minute drive we’d stopped. I was taken to a bedroom. The blindfold was whipped off of my face. Mr J stood in front of me. “You work for me now doll. I’ll let ya get settled in. There are some rules on the desk”. I looked at him. I was shocked to say the least. There in front of me stood the clown prince of crime. As I glanced over to the desk he was gone. I looked around the room. It was gorgeous. Purple and gold, everything looked very expensive. Even down to the door handle. 

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Imagine your niece practicing her makeup skills on Chris.

A/N: I’m not on hiatus, per se. I’m just tired, so I haven’t been writing.

You could hear your niece giggling from your home office, where you sat reviewing a list from your agent of all the different roles you’d been offered. Movies, television shows, even a documentary. A few were requests from casting directors, asking if you’d like to come in and audition for the part. But a large number were confirmed roles- leading roles, from the directors themselves; no audition  required. It was interesting how a little time, a whole lot of experience, and a few awards changed your situation. You were considered a veteran of the Hollywood industry now, privy to all the leads and connections needed to succeed. The fact you could get a role without auditioning would’ve seemed absurd to your sixteen year old self, yet here you were- twenty-eight years old- with more than one leading role where you didn’t have to. It was a stark difference. You remembered having to beg for five minutes of their time, and now it was the opposite.

As empowered and elated as that made you feel, you were still as grounded as when you started out. Your best friend turned husband, Chris Evans, never allowed you to stray too far off the ground. In return, you offered him the same service. Together, you alleviated the disadvantages and troubles that came with your levels of fame. There had to be a constant reminder that fame wasn’t everything to keep the both of you unaffected, to prepare the both of you for the eventual step down from the pedestal Hollywood had placed the power couple: Chris Evans and Y/N Y/L/N. It was an inevitable move, an idea that had been perpetual since the two of you met. It may not have been time to call “checkmate” and win the game by retiring so you could focus on starting and raising a family, but the end game was in sight. And it would increase in its clarity whenever you had to babysit, be it your brother’s child or Chris’ sister’s children.

It was more often than not your brother’s five year old, Skye, seeing as you were living in Los Angeles and Carly lived in Boston. But it was also because both your brother and sister-in-law’s schedules were more hectic than yours and Chris’, which was saying a lot. One was a physicist, and the other an engineer; they’d been working on something confidential for the last four months that practically had them living in their laboratory. They were fortunate you were both on a break and half an hour away, otherwise they were either going to have to leave Skye at a daycare- which she hated, or have your parents babysit- which was difficult as that meant they were going to have to drive two and a half hours, back and forth, and back and forth. That was a total of ten hours that they couldn’t afford to lose, especially when the weekends were the only time they didn’t have to share the equipment with other staff members in their facility.

“Aunt Y/N.” You spun your office chair towards the door when you heard Skye’s voice; she stood in the doorway with Dodger by her side. You narrowed your eyes at her with a curious smile when you saw an eyeshadow brush in her hand. She had no makeup on her face and Dodger was as clean as you’d seen him after Chris gave him his shower yesterday, which meant only one thing. “Do you have any blue eyeshadow? ‘Cause Mommy doesn’t, I searched her whole bag.”

“Yeah,” you tried not to laugh as you got to your feet, holding out your hand for her to take. She looked up at you, grinning happily. “Where’s Uncle Chris?” You asked her as you took her down the hall to the master bedroom with Dodger following behind the two of you.

“In the living room,” she giggled. “But you can’t see him yet,” she quickly added. “I’m not finished, I need the blue eyeshadow first.” You nodded, pressing your lips together to suppress laughter. You loved it when Erica entrusted her makeup bag with Skye; Chris not so much. But he loved Skye so he allowed her to do whatever she wanted with his face.

“How’s this?” You passed her your single NARS eyeshadow in ‘Outremer’; the brightest, truest blue you had in your makeup collection. You hardly ever wore it, the only time being at the ‘Captain America: Civil War’ premiere to show your solidarity to your husband. It seemed fitting then for Skye to use it on Captain America himself.

“It’s perfect!” She jumped excitedly then took it from you and sprinted out of the room. “Uncle Chris, I found it!” You chuckled softly, giving Dodger’s head a quick scratch before he followed Skye back into the living room.

You went back to your office to turn off your laptop and put your papers away so you could give Skye some time to finish doing Chris’ makeup. You’d been pushed out of the room before because she wasn’t done, so you decided to wait until she came for you. Five minutes probably past before she came running back to find you, grabbing your hand and pulling you behind her. You snorted, choked on your own spit, then burst out laughing when you saw Chris’ face.

It was obviously a Captain America inspired look, and for a five year old- she was very good, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t hilarious. Bright blue and flaming red eyeshadow blended perfectly on his lids; cherry red lipstick accentuating his acutely shaped lips; a nice, thick coat of mascara further lengthening his already long lashes. She even used bronzer and highlight, which was pretty amazing for a five year old. At five, you didn’t even recognize the existence of makeup let alone be able to apply it. If Skye attention span lasted long enough, perhaps she had a future as a makeup artist. But you were confident it wouldn’t because three days ago, she was an aspiring Olympic gymnast who Chris had to help flip on the trampoline.

“Oh, just beautiful, baby,” you teased.

“I don’t wike it,” he quoted his nephew, pouting.

“What do you think, Aunt Y/N?” Skye asked, giggling herself. You could tell from her tone that this wasn’t a serious effort, that she only did all that to make fun of Chris because that was basically their relationship. “Doesn’t Uncle Chris look pretty? I think he- Ahhh!” She shrieked with laughter when he jumped to his feet, grabbing her from behind. “Uncle Chris, noooo!” She laughed when he threw her over her shoulder, walking her towards the backyard. “Help, Aunt Y/N!” She cried out, choking on her laughter. “He’s going to throw me in the pool!”

“No he’s not,” you chuckled.

“Yes I am,” Chris nodded, poking Skye’s side. “I told her I would if you laughed because that means she did a terrible job and deserves to be punished. Didn’t I say that, Skye?” She shook her head vigorously as she continued to giggle. “I did and we shook on it, so into the pool you’ll go.”

“Oh no, no no no,” you ran ahead, stopping him with a hand on his chest. You tried not to laugh when you got a closer look of his face, but you couldn’t help yourself. “She doesn’t have a change of clothes, you’re not going to throw her into the pool. Put her down,” you instructed him and he squinted evilly at you before doing what you’d asked of him.

“Ha ha,” Skye stuck her tongue out at Chris. “I don’t have a change of clothes.”

“Alright,” you chuckled. “Don’t provoke him,” you covered Skye’s face with your hands then gently pushed her in the direction of the couch. “Go watch some TV while I help Uncle Chris remove this masterpiece from his face.” Chris let you take his hand. “We’re going to have pizza for lunch, so don’t sneak a snack while we’re gone.”

“Pizza!” Skye cheered, making the two of you smile.

“Hey kid,” Chris called out to her as you led him towards the hall so you could take him to the master bedroom; she turned to him with raised brows. “Don’t think this is over ‘cause I’m going to get you back. Aunt Y/N can’t be here to protect you twenty-four-seven.”

“Nope, but she’ll be here to protect me until Mommy and Daddy come pick me up.” She was so adorably smug that Chris couldn’t help but lose his intimidating composure. He shook his head, chuckling as the two of you disappeared around the corner and down the hallway.

“Are you still hoping for a girl when we eventually try for a baby?”

“Are you kidding me? Of course I am,” he smiled and pulled his hand from yours, wrapping an arm around you when you laughed. “How else am I meant to look pretty if I don’t have a daughter to do my makeup for me?”

Tags: @chrisevans-imagines @widowsfics @m-a-t-91 @imaginesofdreams  @katiew1973 @winter-tospring @shamvictoria11 @soymikael @always-an-evans-addict @heartblackerthancoffee @whenyourealizethisisntagoodname @yourtropegirl @smoothdogsgirl @createdbytinyaddiction @dreamingintheimpalawithdean @rileyloves5 @buckys-shield @catch-me-im-a-falling-star @tabi-toast @ssweet-empowerment @chrixa @feelmyroarrrr @akidura79 @castellandiangelo @edward-lover18 @yourenotrogers @im-a-fandom-slut @royalexperiment256 @palaiasaurus64 @tacohead13 @badassbaker @pegasusdragontiger @sfreeborn @dorisagent101 @aekr @imagine-cats96 @adeptkillsyasse @shliic @justanotherfangurlz @winchesterandpie @creativeheartgemini @camerica96 @thestarlighthotel @lilya-petrichor @pinkleopardss @lizzysugar @bywonater @avengingalec @nerdingoutismylife @rayleyanns @captainxamerica @lapetitsyrene @01asianista @alwayshave-faith @southernbellestatues @thegirlwiththeimpala @callie-swagg1 @what-if-wenevermet @hillrichhill @patzammit @gerrardisgod @stevcsass @sebstanchrisevanchickforever19


Matthew watched as you walked in for the second time that day in a different outfit talking about you just had a craving for the lemon pies. He was currently behind the counter eating a bag of cheetos, wiping the orange dust on the hem of his apron.

Purposefully bending over, you examined the Reeses that you could have sworn were a shelf higher yesterday. You knew what you were doing though, you had been coming in here for three weeks now ever since he picked up this summer job from his uncle.

That strong jaw and narrow eyes that never left your face or body as you walked around the store. He smiled at you, one of his corny ass grins as he asked you if sweatpants was the only thing you owned. Just to spite him the next day you paid for your gas inside, wearing a fitted white tshirt dress and gladiator sandals that held onto your calves. You heard him suck in a breath as you grinned at him. He was extra aware of everything you did after that, slick talking asking if you had a man, wondering what shade of lipstick that was.

Saying: That dress looks good on your figure, when he really wanted to compliment how it hugged your ass. Now you found yourself in a long sleeve crop top and a fitted thigh length skirt and heels. Taking your time you stood back up, making sure to move slowly, letting that spandex fabric stretch over your ass as you turned around to grin at him.

“Y’all better have my cherry coke too.” Giving him a small smile, cherry red lipstick popping as he plainly stared at you letting you knew he was staring at your ass.

“It’s back there. Ol’ greedy ass. You don’t need to be eating them snack cakes this late at night.” He popped another cheeto in his mouth, praying that no one else was going to come into the store at this time. 

He looked out the door at the gas station, not a soul in sight. The sky was black, a bright full moon staring back at him. He’d close the store at 1AM, and the clock currently read 12:35, he could close early right?  

Grabbing a cold can you strutted to the counter, leaning over the surface. “YSo you gonna be my daddy now or something?”

Ringing up the lemon pie, he stared dead into your eyes, licking his lips. His eyes said I want you, but his outside demeanor seemed professional. “Only when I’m giving it to you that good.”

Biting your lip, you leaned over the counter, letting your Victoria’s Secret demi cup push up do the work. “Do I have to make an appointment?” Holding out a crisp $10. 

Taking it, Matthew said nothing, giving you the change he came from around the counter, at first you watched him, your heart about to pop out of your throat as you wondered could you also walk the walk. Then he locked the store doors, flipped the sign from open and closed, and turned out the lights in the front. 

Walking past you, he looked down at you with a slick grin. “I have a slot open.” Opening the office door in the back, he held it open. “You coming?” 

Well this is what all your talking had got you, and you squared up your shoulders, making sure to swivel those hips as you walked past him into the office, your hand lingering over his pectorals.

The door closed with a hush, and he wasted no time picking you up wrapping your legs around his waist. His mouth was on your lips, your neck, your jaw. Tongue poking out to wipe across your lips and beg entry. Opening your mouth, you let your tongues mingle as you felt a hardening shaft poking at your panties. 

“All that talk you you’re just putty in my hands.” He teased you, setting you down on the ground. 

Raising an eyebrow you kicked off your heels. “I wasn’t joking about anything.” 

His belt popped open, the sound of his jeans unzipping had you wetter than you thought. “Not even the: ‘tasting my pixie stick’ part?” 

Grinning with your tongue out, you teased him. “I hope it’s not that small.” 

He shook his head at you, saying nothing as he let his pants drop, and the king sized snickers he was packing seemed to shut you up. One hand on your shoulder, the other palming himself he rubbed his tip against your lip. 

“Now that shut you up.” Chuckling as you gave kitten licks to his tip, looking up at him as you placed his head in your mouth, tongue rolling over the tip. 

He took a deep breath, watching himself disappear in your mouth and then reappear covered in your saliva. Good thing your curls were already held up in a puff, he watched you swallow him down, hands on his thighs to steady yourself. 

A jerk from his hips pushed him farther into your mouth, and he hissed feeling himself touch the back of your throat. “Let me hear you.” 

One hand on his sack, you massaged him as you picked up the pace, head bobbing back and forth as you sucked on him. Tongue hanging out of your mouth as you licked up and down his shaft before shoving him back down your throat. 

He was holding your shoulders, head leaning back as he groaned your name softly, his hips moving gently. With a pop he came free of your mouth, standing you up as he pulled your panties down bending you over the desk. “All that teasing.” He groaned, the wetness of your slit rubbing on the head of his cock. 

“But will your stroke game live up to what you said?” You asked as he slid his length up and down your slit, eliciting a moan from you. 

Pushing your head down on the desk, he whirled his hips to the left as he entered you hard. Then to the right as he pulled out. Back to the left as he slid in real slow, and to the right pulling out just to the tip. 

Fingernails trying to hold onto the Ikea wood in front of you, he leaned over your back working his hips back and forth slowly as he eased further inside you. Once hilted, he jerked himself upwards, causing a bright light to flash behind your eyes. “I’m a dancer too, can you tell?” 

He’d have you denouncing any other dick like it was satan if he kept this up. Steady strokes that seemed to hit just where you wanted it, your thighs quivering as his thick fingers reached in front of you to scissor kick at your pearl. He shivered, shaking gingerly as he moaned your name into your ear, his teeth leaving little pricks on your earlobe. 

“Is it good baby?” He asked, deep voice booming in the room. 

“Uh huh.” You groaned, trying to sit up enough to throw it back at him. 

“Words, you’re a big girl.” He held onto your hips, fingers digging hard into your skin as he slammed his hips into your ass. 

You stuttered, mouth open as you felt your orgasm approaching. “Yea-yes, just like that.” 

You couldn’t pick your leg high enough on that table, all you wanted was to feel every inch of him inside you, and just when he slapped your ass you held your breath, a scream making you ride out your orgasm as you felt him leaking warm and sticky down your leg. 

Bringing you your coke and some dry paper towels, you sat in the office chair after sipping the cold fizzy drink. 

“So…” He offered nonchalantly. 

You stared at Matthew, wiping your lips after chugging soda. “So.” 

“Wanna help me open tomorrow?” 

I fixed it! I like this better! This is in honor of Travel Anon.

Houses Aesthetic

Slytherin: The smell of coffee in the morning, regardless if you’re going to drink it or not. Classy dress and heels one day, torn jeans and combat boots the next. The feeling of leave crunching under your shoes. Finally perfecting your writing to look elegantly beautiful. Green smoothies for breakfast, burgers for lunch. Mumbling the perfect comeback to anyone only loud enough for your friends to hear. Smirking when you know more than anyone else. The laughter you create after a smart remark. Wishing upon a star. Deep poetry you keep to yourself. Beautiful caligraphy. Inside jokes.

Ravenclaw: The sound of a crisp page. Sweaters and sneakers all day, everyday. Making several mugs of tea but forgetting them everywhere because you’re reading. Not being able to tell what is dream or reality. Surviving off of nothing but snacks. Responding to anything with sarcasm. Mindless doodles on your homework. Starting a project but never finishing it. Endearing insults. Writing incredible notes but never using them. Random facts about tv shows The sound of typing. Record players and typewriters. Writing seven different stories at once but forgetting to finish them. Drawing at 1:37 am because you felt inspired. Deep 2 am talks.

Hufflepuff: Hot cocoa with whipped cream. Giggling endlessly over nothing. Wearing whatever you feel comfortable in. Beanies and hoodies and blankets.Taking stealthy pictures of your friends. Finally finishing an essay. Reading inspiring quotes at midnight. Goofing around when no one looks. Somehow always knowing where things are. The perfect gift you know they’ll love. The smell of cookies baking in the oven. Giving the best hugs. The sound of the remote as you scour for some great shows. Staying up all night with a friend having a movie marathon.

Gryffindor: Bright cherry red lipstick. The sound of sneakers hitting the pavement, running. Eating healthy one day then eating every bit of junk in a 100 meter radius. Drinking cold lemonade in the pool. Completing stupid dares. Trying not to bust out laugh in the middle of class. Procrastinating on essays. The feeling of the warm summer air. Showing off to someone you like. Wearing the same shirt two times in a row without anyone noticing. Staying up late on tumblr. Laughing so hard you can’t breathe. Pizza and fries for breakfast, french toast for dinner.

DEH Soulmate AU

((This is one of those The World Is Black and White Until You Meet Your Soulmate ones))

The first time Evan met the Murphys was on the first day of school, sophomore year. He remembers the day perfectly– the grays of the trees in the courtyard, the dark hues of the doors, and then light. Greens, blues, and the red of Zoe’s dress. Oh my God, Zoe’s dress. He wanted to ask her if she could see it too, but the very thought made him a little nauseous.

From there, it was a whirlwind. The blue pen she scribbled stars with. The red of her guitar. The indigo streaks in her hair.

He also remembers the light green of the tree. The red and blue flashing ambulance lights. He remembers wanting to see her cherry red lipstick one more time.

And then on the first day of senior year, he remembers the color of Connor’s eyes. He remembers him storming off with Evan’s letter, a smudge of gray amongst all the colors.

That was the same day all the colors went away, leaving Evan once again alone in black and white.

Don’t You Leave Me Brokenhearted Tonight

A/N: i legit never thought i’d do a series, but I feel a newfound inspiration to do so. i’ve been singing brokenhearted by karmin all fucking week so this whole idea came to me from that and thinking about drugs’ abilities & here i am writing somethin’ out of it

so strap on ya socks, grab some snacks & tuck yourself in bc my writing sucks but i want people to read anyways :)

WC: 1.7k

enjoy!! x

P A R T  O N E

Lights in deep shades of purples and reds. Solo cups littered along the carpet that was bound to reek of beer and vodka by the end of the night. A pop song of sorts coming from the stereo speakers in the farthest corner of the living area. This night was hell-bound for disaster. The marijuana wafting through the thick cold air wasn’t much welcomed to my nose, but I’m no stick in the mud. A—borderline overwhelming stench—wasn’t gonna hinder my good time.

I didn’t stress and breakdown in tears of anger everyday these past two weeks to turn my ass around. I wanted to at least try to enjoy the party. “I promise, it won’t be that bad.” Mani assured me, slathering her lips in a cherry red lipstick from her makeup vanity. I believed her. As my bestfriend since 6th grade, she’s never steered me into anything that would kill me. Get me grounded? All the time. Make me question the safety of our friendship? Depends on the severity. However, she’s always proven that she was someone I’d love having by my side.

With never dragging me into the dark side, she was right. The party was in full swing—or at least I assume it is—and I’m still not broken or passed out on a couch somewhere while two teenagers eat each others’ throats out beside me. I guess tonight can’t be that bad.

I scamper into a tiny overpopulated makeshift kitchen to find a drink, seeing cans and 2 liter bottles of sodas, untouched Solo cups of assorted colors and sizes, bottles upon bottles of liquor, and a large punch bowl full of crushed ice occupying the counter tops. Thank god. Vodka won’t be my only option. I could possible be the DD tonight. The last thing I need is a totaled car and hospital bills racking up past my tuition.

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His Little Pyshco Bill Skarsgård x Reader

Requester: Anonymous

Prompt: Hi, could you do a imagine where the reader is playing harley quinn and bill’s playing the joker? idk..

Warning: None

Note: Sorry it’s so short I wasn’t able to get much out of it. I’m so sorry  😅

It was your favorite time of the year.

No, not Christmas!

Fuck Christmas.

It was Halloween.

The year where you can go out in public and cosplay and scare people without getting strange looks or being called on the cops. Where you could carve jack o lanterns, cook pumpkin seeds in the oven, and of course dress up.

This year you and Bill did a couples costume where you were Harley Quinn and Bill was the joker. You decided to do the Batman Arkham games so you decided to go with Arkham City Harley well Bill did Arkham City Joker.

You were having too much fun practicing her Boston accent in the mirror well doing your makeup.

“C'mon pudding.” You said arching your eyebrows for a few seconds at how you had matched her tone perfectly.

You continued to say one liners in that voice until you were fully into your character stopping only to put on cherry red lipstick.

Mm, tasted like cherry too you noticed.

Bill finally came in wearing his joker suit with his skin white and a bit burnt just like his character in the game.

“Hey puddin’.” You cooed.

Bill laughed and you pouted cutely before saying in your normal voice, “What’s so funny?”

“Nothin’ you just look cute and crazy. My little psycho.” Bill said booping your nose.

You giggled and leaned forward kissing him sharing both of your lipstick.

“Let’s go scare some little kids!” You giggled lifting up your gigantic hammer.

Bill sighed and shook his head but wrapped his arm around your waist as you both headed out, as you said, to scare some little kids.

You were definitely his little psycho…

Epilogue: So sorry it’s so short I was drawing a blank at what to do 😓! Still good though hopefully? Idk. No hate comments though please.

@devilinhighheels:  How about a fic where Cheryl dares Betty to spend a weekend at a haunted house where she falls in love with ghost Jughead? Or Jughead tries to save her from an evil ghost with some angst but also lots of fluff? 

Ok, so this isn’t as developed as I wanted because this was supposed to be a short one shot but I seem to have forgotten how to do those so… I guess you can use your imaginations. It’s not exactly in keeping with the prompt because I was trying to keep it short, but then it got away from me just like this explanation is and I’m rambling, yeah, have this half-assed fic.

accepting halloween-y vibed prompts

“My turn,” Cheryl piped up, a sly grin planting itself firmly across her lips as she let go of Dilton Doiley’s sweater, allowing him to fall back in a post-make out daze, wiping at the corners of her mouth to remove any lipstick smudges. Somehow she seemed to be the only woman alive that managed to keep her makeup intact despite a multitude of spit swapping. Betty often wondered if the cherry red stain wasn’t lipstick at all, but that the colour just naturally deepened every time Cheryl managed to slay one of her enemies.

“Betty.” She jumped at the clipped sound of her name. Cheryl’s pupils had turned a menacingly dark shade as she focused her attention on her next victim. “Truth or dare?”

She hadn’t wanted to play this game. In fact, the only reason she was even at the Blossom’s Halloween bash in the first place was because Archie had looked at her with that liquid chocolate, puppy dog expression of his and practically begged her to come with him; she had melted just like his eyes. Betty cursed her inability to deny Archie Andrews anything as she watched him sliding closer to her best friend, Veronica Lodge, by the second. She bit the inside of her cheek as the corners of her eyes began to sting.

“Aren’t we a little too old for truth or dare?” she had protested weakly when Cheryl suggested the game earlier in the evening, noting the way the redhead kept flicking her gaze between the three of them, a mischievous glint appearing in her eyes. Betty could just picture how this was going to go.

“Betty, tell the truth. Are you in love with Archie?”

“Archie, I dare you to make out with Veronica.”

Whatever schemes Cheryl was currently plotting, Betty didn’t want any part of it. She’d been outvoted, nevertheless.

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