Bruce: Sweat, leather, expensive cologne, that dry scent that tells you he’s carrying money in his pockets, scotch, envelopes. he likes to wear the best colognes because he has an image to keep, but when it’s just him he smells the way a father would smell. the batmobile smells like him so when he was dead his kids would sit in the car and just breathe it in so they’d never forget what he smelled like
Dick: Fresh linen, fancy soaps Alfred bought for him, cereal, green apples, new car smell, hair gel, cheap wine, aftershave. he smells like one of those guys who wears ten different colognes to impress women, though in Dick’s case most of the time it’s just the way he naturally smells and it’s intoxicating
Barbara: Lemons, cotton, honeysuckle, that familiar smell all computers seem to have, glossy magazines. she just smells really comforting and familiar, like that feeling you get when you hug your mom
Jason: Cigarettes, sweat, gunpowder, leather jackets, the familiar alleys of Gotham City, freshly baked bread, buttery popcorn, dusty old books, cheap cologne. he’s got a very musky scent, but there are so many different aromas going on at the same time that he smells like an odd mix of all of them
Cass: Jasmine shampoo, pine trees, the occasional faint scent of blood, the rubbery smell of bandages, cut flowers, scented candles, hot chocolate. she doesn’t wear perfume so she smells very natural
Tim: Coffee grounds, printer ink, new book smell, the earthy scent of rain on hot pavement, sharpies. he smells very homey. he doesn’t usually wear cologne, but he smells just as appealing as Dick does without even trying. when you hug him you just want to stay in his arms and inhale his comforting scent as long as you can
Stephanie: Cinnamon, strawberry shampoo, sugary perfume, coca-cola lip smackers, maple syrup, a warm sea breeze. she sprays on ten different perfumes at a time, so when people smell her they’re captivated by how many different aromas are going on at once. when you smell her it’s so inviting it just makes you want to be around her forever
Damian: Batcow’s stables, butterscotch candies, the steel blade of his katana, paint from his artwork, pastel crayons, the earthy aroma of freshly dug soil. he always smells like Alfred’s garden, like dirt and green leaves and fresh vegetables. there’s always the slightest whiff of gingerbread too
Sirius Black with his leather jackets, his long black hair, a cigarette constantly hanging from his fingertips or pressed against his lips; Sirius Black who got his first tattoo at fifteen and his second at sixteen without a second thought, who skipped classes and knew just how hot he was, Sirius Black who was smart without trying so that he seemed carelessly good at everything, Sirius Black who one morning walks down the stairs of the Gryffindor common room, slightly grumbled, hair tied into a small bun at the back of his neck, wearing one of Remus’s oversized jumpers and frowning a ‘what?’ When everybody in the common room stares at this completely unpresidated sight…
Yeah. That’s pretty much how I imagine all of Gryffindor found out that Remus and Sirius were dating.
if your still doing requests, could you do a fic where Jughead is a serpent and goes to Southside high and Betty is head cheerleader at riverdale and is dating Chuck? thanks and I love your writing!
Jughead held the rag to his nose, cursing under his breath as his friends all tended to their injuries. They had been jumped, absolutely wrecked by some Riverdale goonies in Blue and Yellow Letterman Jackets. Jughead recognized them instantly when they ran onto the Southside Basketball courts, Chuck Clayton leading the way as he and his idiotic, brain dead jock teammates face off against The younger generation of he Southside Serpents, a notorious gang in the darker parts of Riverdale.
Neither side had won the fight, both groups of boys going home with some serious injuries, however they had stolen his Leather Jacket and he was fairly pissed about that.
“I’ll kill them” a burly boy named Dean stated, spitting tobacco on the ground as he cracked his knuckles, nursing a seriously bruised cheek.
“We have to retaliate, maybe hit up that Diner they’re always going too.“A dirty teenager shouted from the back.
Beside him his closest friend and fellow Serpent ,Keith, rolled his eyes, elbowing Jughead with an exasperated shrug.
Jughead shook his head, wincing as he removed the rag
“We’ll get them back, but for now…we make them wait.. they’ll be waiting for us. Make them shake a bit” he said simply, as the other boys nodded in agreement. The Serpents always listened to Jughead, he was the voice of reason
And with his father being the gang leader he had somewhat of a pull.
There was a soft knock on the door, all of the boys went quiet as it slowly opened, revealing the one thing no one was expecting.
In walked an incredibly beautiful, blonde teenaged girl, her long hair pulled tightly in a ponytail and her shiny green eyes looking nervously around the bar, she had on a floral blue skirt and a clean white sweater, considering the fact that it was definitely over eighty degrees the choice of top confused Jughead, she stepped forward a nervous smile gracing her perfect heart shaped lips. She had a familiar leather jacket clenched in her hands and she seemed taken aback by everyone staring at her
“Umm hello. I’m so sorry to interrupt but I have something to return.”
Even her voice was soft like cotton. She held out the leather jacket to the group
“I found this in my boyfriends car, I know it doesn’t belong to him so I thought I would bring it back on my own.” She looked around, waiting for someone to claim it, her fingers twitching.
Snapping out of his daze Jughead walked towards the gorgeous blonde.
“That’s mine, your boyfriends an asshole” he said simply, standing before her and gently taking the jacket, his eyes fluttering closed for a second as he inhaled the fresh vanilla and peach that wafted off of her.
“You have no idea” she smiled sadly, something in her eyes made Jughead want to reach for her, grab her and wrap her up. “I’m so sorry about this, he just.. he gets that way sometimes, Chuck should never have taken your things and he definitely should never have attacked you all.” She looked around, her sad green eyes growing more desperate by the second, he wanted to make her feel better, something he wasn’t used to feeling. Jughead jones didn’t care about anyone but himself and his gang.
“It’s not your fault he’s a dick” he said monotone .
He saw a glint of something in her eyes as she giggled and he felt a tiny bit of pride for being the one to put it there. She coughed a bit and nearly every Serpent ran towards her, shoving beers in her face.
“Oh!” She exclaimed, smiling at the gesture
“That’s very sweet, but I’m okay.” She coughed again and this time Keith pushed his beer a bit too fast, spilling most of it on her sleeves, Jughead shoved his friend away from the blonde and then rest of the Serpents shouted at him, smacking him upside the head
“That’s okay!” She laughed, an honest to god happy laugh “it’s just some beer” she rolled up her sleeves to her elbows and Jughead had to bite back the hiss at what he saw. Her arms were covered in purple and blue bruises, fingerprint shaped marks littered her wrists and by the collective growl he knew the other boys had seen it too. He was going to kill Chuck Clayton.
The Serpents didn’t make the best decisions but one thing they didn’t tolerate was abuse to any woman, especially this gorgeous angel.
Her eyes went wide and she began pulling her sleeves down
“Well, once again I want to apologize for my classmates behavior. I’d like to say it won’t happen again, but when you make Chuck Clayton mad.. well there’s really nothing you can do.” She shrugged helplessly as she headed towards the door, waving slightly to the people she passed.
When she was almost at the door Jughead looked up to see each and every Serpent looking at him with threatening eyes.
“Go after her you dumbass” dean whispered loudly.
Rolling his eyes Jughead headed for the door just in time to catch her before she stepped into her black minivan.
“Hey!” He called, causing her to spin around.
“Is everything okay?” She asked, concerned.
“Everything’s fine, you just didn’t tell me your name.” He smirked, pulling his leather jacket on and sticking a cigarette into his mouth.
Betty stared at him, that same glint he had seen a few moments ago back in her eyes. She plucked the cigarette from his mouth, popping it into her pocket and beaming
“My names Betty Cooper, I’ll see you around…?” she trailed off, waiting for him to fill in the blank.
“Jughead. Jughead Jones” he answered, still in awe of the angel in front of him.
“Okay. I’ll see you around… Jughead Jones.” With that, she got in her car and drove towards her personal hell. Riverdale, the town with pep.
Meanwhile Jughead was staring at her retreating car, his face stuck in a stupid grin.
Keith and Dean came up behind him, calling for the other Serpents.
“So.. what’s her name?” Dean asked as the low mumble of the Serpents came from behind him.
“It’s Betty.. Betty Cooper. Maybe you were right, maybe we should pay the diner a friendly visit sooner than I thought.” He said, his eyes hardening at the thought of Betty’s “boyfriend”
You want a war Chuck Clayton? You got one. And this time?
The upshot of all this is that seeing Mikkelsen off screen is a bit of a shock. First, he has two eyes, neither of which is oozing blood. Second, he looks like a rippling Hollywood stud. More Bond than Bond villain, you might say. The first sight I catch of him is outside the London hotel where we’re meeting. Mikkelsen is standing in a doorway, tanned and tall, wearing a leather jacket and jeans and puffing on a cigarette. He has a startlingly handsome, wolfish face: crafty eyes, cheekbones so chiselled you could cut yourself on them, and cupid’s bow lips that quiver readily between a pout and a snarl. It’s a face that could only belong to an actor or a model.
i want that fresh af 8 hours sleep drinking 1048294 gallons of water soft hair flower princess aesthetic but then i also want that black coffee reeking of cigarettes and vodka wearing last nights eyeliner haven’t slept in three weeks leather jacket aesthetic
Summary: He’s always been like this. Addicted to drugs and alcohol, constantly getting into fights. He’s down a dark road and the only light that still shines is you.
A/N: I would like to apologies, this is the first time I’ve ever had a request from someone (and one other) and I stupidly answered privately so I couldn’t see the message anymore. I completely forgot to look at who requested and I deeply apologies for my stupidity.
You remember when you first saw him, Park Jimin. It was your first day at university, when you accidentally bumped into him on your way to your dorm, which just so happened to be next to his. His appearance alone scared you, yet at the same time, you had become interested. The cliché bad boy look. Tight ripped black jeans, plane white t-shirt and a leather jacket covering his broad shoulders. With cigarette in hand, he sneered at you, before roughly bumping your shoulder as he walked passed to go to his room. From that day on, you were in love.
You never spoke to him, all you did was admire him from afar as he would talk with his friends and chat up a random girl in the corridor. It hurt… A lot. Seeing him with another girl, meant he had no interest in you, and he probably never would. You were shadow to him, an insect he could squish in between his fingers, that’s how unimportant you were to him.
You buried your head further into your pillow trying to drown out the loud moans from Jimin and his lady friend next door. This had been going on for what seemed like hours, and it was the last straw. Furiously getting out of bed you stormed out of your dorm and thumped on his door loudly. Silence had finally came to his dorm, but it soon faded when you heard loud footsteps come closer to the door, and when it was opened your jaw dropped. Jimin stood before you, in nothing but his boxers, sweat dripping down his forehead and toned stomach, hair pushed back, as he ran his hand through it.
“What?” he sneered as he leaned against the door frame. “Who the fuck are you?!”
“Your neighbor. Could you please keep it down. People are trying to sleep,” you asked politely. Jimin’s eyes narrowed as he stood up straight and stepped closer to you.
“Who are you to tell me what to do?” he threatened as he towered over you, giving you a deadly glare.
“I’m not telling you, I’m asking you… Nicely,” you added as you crossed your arms over your chest. Jimins eyes wandered down to your now slightly exposed cleavage and smirked. Upon realizing where his eyes were you unfolded your arms and pulled your top up. Blushing you turned on your heel to walk away until his hand tightly grasped your wrist.
“Are you sure that’s all you wanted me to do? Because if you want to join in, you can,” he whispered in your ear, his hot breath sending chills down your spine. You actually thought about joining him but your face turned to disgust when you remembered he was with another girl.
“I don’t think I’d want to ruin your time with your lady. So I’ll take my leave,” you almost snapped as you snatched your wrist and walked back to your door. “Good Night,” you mumbled as you shut the door behind you. Your breathing was uneven, and you were panicking like crazy. Jimin your crush, touched you. You were a mess, especially when he offered you to join him. You regretted saying no, but you didn’t like the idea of another woman being there. You just wanted it to be the two of you, as he’d dominate you with his tongue and make you feel good in all the right ways.
It was a late Thurday afternoon, and classes had finally finished. A small sigh escaped your lips as you walked through the now quiet corridors of the university. However a sudden loud grunt caught your attention, peaking around the corner at the end of the corridor, you noticed that Jimin was pinned up against the lockers, the other boys hand firmly around his throat.
“Where the fuck is my money Jimin,” he boy snarled as his grip on Jimins throat tightened.
“Fuck you,” Jimin choked out. The boy used his other hand to collide his fist with Jimins stomach, causing you to gasp. Both heads turned to your direction where they just glared at you.
“Who’s this Jimin? Another slut you just use for your own pleasure?” the boy snarled as he let go of Jimin and made his was towards you. Roughly his hand tightened around your upper arm as he hauled you forward making you loose your balance falling to the ground.
“I barely know her, so let her be,” Jimin spat back as he straightened out his leather jacket.
“Oh I don’t think so, this little spy, could be of some good use to me,” the male licked his lips as he adjusted his trousers making you gulp nervously.
“Don’t fucking touch her Namjoon,” Jimin sneered as he stepped forward slightly.
“Oh so this girl does mean something to you. I just don’t get it Jimin, how come you can fuck any girl you want, but I can’t have this one?” Namjoon asked his glare still on you.
“Because I ask them. You haven’t,” Jimin answered back as he picked you up bridle style. “Go fuck yourself you bastard, you’re not getting near her for as long as a live.”
“Then you’ll die,” Namjoon launched himself at Jimin, making all three of you tumble to the ground, you stuck in between them. “Give me the fucking money and I won’t harm her!” Namjoon yelled. During that time, you managed to wriggle yourself out from between them and pull grab onto Namjoon’s shirt.
“How much!?” you yelled. Both of the males stopped wrestling and looked at you.
“What?” Namjoon snarled. You growled lowly before repeating your question.
“How much,” you spoke through gritted teeth, trying hard to contain your anger. Namjoon stood up and faced you.
“60.” Without hesitation you hauled out your purse and handed him the money.
“Now fuck off and leave him alone,” you snapped as you knelt down to Jimin and helped him up. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up,” you muttered as you wrapped Jimins arm around your shoulder and guided him back to your dorm. The journey there was silent until you entered the dorm and Jimin sat down on your bed.
“Why the fuck did you help me. I never asked for it,” Jimin sneered as his hands tightened to fists.
“Because Namjoon was hurting you, and he stopped when I gave him the money. Now shut up and let me see your wounds,” you ordered as you stood in front of him with a damp cloth and a first aid kit. “Take off your shirt,” you mumbled attempting to sound confident, but failed. Jimin smirked in reply and began to unbutton his shirt. Painfully slowly he took off his shirt and laid it next to him. Jimin leaned back slightly, allowing you to see his toned stomach better. “Jesus, he got you good,” you muttered as you noticed a medium sized wound across the right side of his body.
“Tch, I’ve had worse,” he snapped back, but instantly winced when you began to dab (Does the dab) his wound with the wet cloth.
“Jesus what did you buy that got him so worked up?” you muttered, leaning back to grab the first aid kit from behind you.
“You really wanna know?” Jimin challenged, his face expressionless. Your silence allowed him to continue. “I bought come coke off of him, and I said I’d pay him back in two days, which I obviously didn’t do.” You sighed in disbelief.
“Why do you do this to yourself?” You asked him. Jimin glanced at you in curiosity. “Why do you deal drugs, take them, smoke, drink way to much, and get laid every night?! You have so much to live for and you’re destroying yourself,” you muttered, tears threatening to spill down your face.
“What the fuck do you know?” Jimin snapped.
“I know that you’re better than this! It’s clear that people fucking care for you! And you throw them away like they’re trash!” your voice raised slightly as you stood up and turned around, not wanting Jimin to see you cry.
“No one fucking cares for me! Girls only want to fuck me because I’m good in bed! Or if they are in need of stress relief! I’m their fucking toy! HOW ARE YOU TO SAY PEOPLE CARE FOR ME! WHEN CLEARLY NO ONE DOES!” Jimins loud voice echoed through out your dorm making you cover you ears for a moment.
“Well I fucking do! Okay!” Jimin stood in front of you wide eyed as you turned around, your tears staining your cheeks. “I fucking care! I have since I first bumped into you on the way to my dorm! It hurt me so fucking much, seeing you bring another girl into your dorm nearly every night. Having to put up with the constant moaning and groans that came from both of you!” After you spoke you stopped and slapped your hand over your mouth, realizing you had just confessed to him. Slowly Jimin stood large steps towards you, making you move back until the back of your calves hit the end of your bed. In one swift motion, Jimin had you pinned to the bed, hands wrapped tightly around your wrists and he stared into your eyes as if he was trying to read you.
“Why would you care, you barely know me,” he muttered as he lowered his head to the crook of your neck, where he planted soft kisses down to your collarbone.
“Because everyone deserves a second chance,” you muttered, suppressing a moan as Jimin gently sucked on your sweet spot. “Including you.” Jimin continued to kiss downwards until your shirt got in the way.
“This needs to go,” he grumbled as he slowly began to unbutton your shirt. Nervousness suddenly took over you, and you stopped him.
“W-wait. I-I’m still a virgin,” you muttered, looking away in shame. A small soft smile spread across Jimins features as he hand his hand through your hair.
“It’s fine, I promise I’ll be gentle, but only this once,” he smirked and got down to business.
A/N: Day 3 of the Write-A-Thon already? Oh my goodness. So when I started this Peter Pan AU, I had no idea how it was going to go. Apparently, that meant this huge mess. This will be a three part series! Thank you to @hamilbye for letting me use her as a wonderful wingwoman in our story! Enjoy.
The Lost Boys were a
charming band of beautiful boys from the wrong side of town. They were the
people your parents ushered you away from on the sidewalk, the boisterous
laughs in the town square, the ones who spray-painted “the world is ours” on
the water tower. They were the bad kids, the ones who smoked cigarettes when
the lunch bell rang, the ones who barely made a celebrity appearance in class,
and the ones who the students both idolized and feared. They called themselves
the Lost Boys because that’s who they were: perpetually wandering the earth,
purposeless, wild and free, made of ivy plants, cigarette smoke, sunshine,
whiskey and worn leather jackets.