glasses pull

you are still a valid little if you:

• have tattoos or body piercings
• smoke / drink / use
• embrace your sexuality
• didn’t have a troubled childhood
• still live with your parents
• are overweight / underweight
• drink from a regular glass
• don’t wear diapers / pull-ups
• don’t wear onesies or footie pajamas
• dislike using pacifiers
• prefer showers over baths
• would rather collect books instead of stuffed animals
• think glitter is too messy to keep around
• pink or blue ( or rainbow ) isn’t your color
• find coloring / crafts boring 
• find cartoons or disney movies non-entertaining
• don’t eat sweets
• dislike chicken nuggets / fruit snacks / macaroni & cheese
• dislike juices or milk
• prefer actual children over animals
• have kids / are pregnant
• need space / alone time
• have a mental disorder ( not only anxiety & depression )
• have a physical disability
• are a member of the lgbtq+ community
• don’t have a caregiver
• & more…

you are too unique to fall under a stereotype perfectly so don’t worry about your body type, regressors, or whether you’re a “real little” or not, you are valid no matter the situation. there are no rules to “little” - all you need is yourself to get lost in the feeling.

Bookshelf: Hoe don’t do it
Me: walking towards the bookshelf reaching for acomaf*
Bookshelf: YOU’VE READ IT 5 TIMES
Me: feeling an actual pull towards the book* just this one scene I’m thinking about
Bookshelf: I have all these other books that need love
Me: grabs acomaf* don’t judge me

Whisper

Summary: Nat does everything in her power to finally get you and Bucky together. 

Warnings: This is pretty much all smut: unprotected sex (please use protection), thigh riding, oral (m receiving), praise kink (kinda?). i think that’s it, let me know if you find anything else

Words: 3.4k

A/N: I finally wrote something! I have a few more pieces in the works now too. Sorry I haven’t been writing as much, but I am trying to work on that. Hope you enjoy. Send me requests here. 

Masterlist 

Originally posted by musicfixyou

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It Wasn’t a Mistake

Pairing: Mitch Rapp x Reader

Author: @ninja-stiles

Words: 5487

Warnings: sin, fluff, angst?, blood

Author’s Note: I decided to write this to celebrate the trailer of American Assassin coming out and it was a fucking amazing trailer. Dyl looked so good. oml. I want to thank like all my friends for encouraging me that this is good! I wanna thank @dumbass-stilinski for looking it over, helping me with some parts, and just being amazing all around. You da best babe. I hope you guys enjoy!!

Originally posted by stydiaislove

Keep reading

Masquerade Valentines EXTRA

Extra - Could Tell A Love

NOTES: Well, ended up throwing this together for V-day after all, short and sweet. 


It was laughable that he was upset, really. Victor even almost berated himself for it, for packing as close to what he would call a tantrum as what a grown adult who was heir to one of the biggest criminal groups in the world could be.

People steered well clear of him today, they did what he asked, they didn’t argue, they didn’t fight back. He’d woken up in a foul mood, eaten breakfast and done his work out in the freezing cold in an even worse mood, and it’d soured as the day wore on, it was only lunch time.

And it was also Valentine’s day.

Keep reading

The Divide Series: Happier

The first of my installments for this series. I struggled with this one a bit because writing sad Harry is NOT fun, but, I think it played out alright. I hope you all enjoy! x 

You can find the masterlist for the Divide Series, here

Originally posted by lipslikeharry


He promises himself that it’ll only be a quick  look, a brisk moment to catch a fleeting glimpse of you to reassure himself that he had made the right decision. That you were indeed- happier.

He reckons that his current predicament makes him look like a proper stalker, laying low against the seat of his car with his hoodie pulled up around his head. He’s pushed the pair of sunglasses that usually serve as a makeshift headband onto his face, and his lips are in a tight pressed line. He’s parked and turned the car off long ago, and it’s starting to get chilly. His fingers drum nervously against the steering wheel, cold metal of his rings making small thumping sounds against it. His eyes pull away from across the street to glance down at his phone, ignoring the growing list of notifications to glance at the time. 5 minutes.

He’s hoping to god, for once, that there aren’t any nosy camera lenses hidden across the street or in some odd crevice because shots of this in the tabloids would not only be hard to explain, but embarrassing for you too. He’d dated you for so long that the public was well aware of who you were and where you worked. He’s kept his head low, though, and with the lack of his driver and the shield of tinted windows- he hopes it’ll be enough.

3 minutes now.  He twists the ring on his index finger nervously, licking his lips and glancing at the door to the building that his car has stood in front of so many times. He thinks, reflectively, that he could’ve asked Gem how you were doing. His brows furrow together at the thought of his older sister giving him that all knowing look, the one where she makes an indignant noise at him and calls him a martyr under her breath. He can practically imagine her ignorance of his simple question and her storm of counter ones, all stemming from the same basic thought, of course. Why on earth did he you let her go in the first place?

To which he would have to give a plethora of mumbles to defend why he made the decision he did. It was something he was far too exhausted to even think about, and he shakes his head at the idea of delving into it before glancing out the window again. He jolts up straighter in his seat and squints through the window, pulling his glasses off and staring. You’ve got your bag clutched to your side and your other hand is shading your eyes. You’re leaning up onto the tips of your toes and rocking back down to balls of your feet as you glance up and down the street expectantly.

Harry swallows harshly, curious eyes taking you in. You’re wearing one of his favorite work outfits on you, but somehow you look different. He hasn’t seen you in sometime, a few months now, and he wonders if his eyes ever did you the justice you deserve. You’re beautiful, and perhaps it’s the passing of time that is throwing him off but he swears- he’s never seen anything more angelic. The sun is out in London today, peeking out to say a dutiful hello to the city and its dwellers. He watches as you tip your head back slightly, letting the sun shine onto your face with closed eyes and a appreciative smile. It sends his heart thumping into overdrive, it’s what he wanted- the purpose of this expedition fulfilled. To see just a glimpse of your radiant smile that he’s missed so much. He sighs, grabbing the key in the ignition and giving it a twist. He buckles up and glances back once more at you, but this time you’re not alone.

Keep reading

|Late Night Conversations| R.MANTLE /PART ONE\

It was hard day for me. My arm is bandaged, it hurt like shit but I have this thing for you and I hope you’ll like it. 

Funny story: I came up with this idea when my doctor pulled the glass out of my skin. I’m good fam. I’m a survivor ;)) 

IMAGINE ABOUT: Reggie and reader kinda had ‘a thing’ with eachother but when Jason Blossom death comes out. Reggie immediately leaves the city leaving her with nothing but her feelings. 


I’m not supposed to be like this. 

I’m not supposed to be the sad girl who doesn’t know where the hell she’s going and what the fuck she’s doing. I’m not supposed to care too much about what anyone thinks and I’m not supposed to let words affect my choices. 

I’m supposed to be that bitchy, funny maybe a little nice girl that hungs out with her friends on weekends and goes to an average school to pursue average career. 

So far. I’ve menaged to let one person change up my life like a span of a few months. What’s killing me? I think some part of me thinks I’m supposed to be the girl who cares too much for her own good. 

My parents don’t understand me. I don’t blame them. I fucking love my parents but sometimes, I just need a break. I need a break from a lot of people and I need a break to recycle my old self to keep anyone from getting in and ripping my heart to shreds. 

Sort of like how I’m feeling right now. 

There’s no way to better describe this feelng other than the fact that I’ve tried to drown my feelings multiple times, only to find out those fuckers can swim and do  water tricks as well. 

Exams have been like hell, although I did imagine this week to consist of Reggie kissing up my neck as I study. I shouldn’t even be thinking about this, he’s gone, whatever, he didn’t choose me so fuck him right?

It’s been a few days since Reggie left, and a few days since Archie and I last spoke . Archie and I have been making eye contact at most, and I can tell by the look in his eyes that he has so much to say but can’t. 
I’ve ignored his glances and ignored his silent plea’s to confess to him my true feelings and opinion, so far it’s been good. 

In other news speaking, Reggie’s been leaving me numerous messages, in all shapes and sizes, and every single on of them made my feeling stronger than a rock.

iMessage from Reggie:

i feel sad i dont like this 

(read: 11:34pm 12/04/2017) 





iMessage from: Reggie

i let you down and i know that, but im gonna need u to not give up on me okay?

(read: 9:10am: 13/04/2017) 




iMessage from: Reggie

i dont know what is it or what we are but all i know is that im here in the middle of nowhere hungover as fuck by myself thinking of you and only you

(read: 2:47pm 14/14/2017) 




iMessage from: Reggie

i dont know what to do

(read: 9;15pm  14/14/2017) 




iMessage from Reggie: 

youre mine 

(read: 1:42am 15/04/2017) 




iMessage from Reggie: 

baby girl 

please let me know ur okay

(read: 1:45am 15/04/2017) 



iMessage from Reggie: 

i miss you like crazy 

(read: 1:50am 15/04/2017) 




iMessage from Reggie: 


im not to blame i swear to you

im so scared 


(read: 3:05am 16/05/2017) 

I sat there re-reading every message he sent, analyzing over the words and thinking about what he meand by all of them. This alien feeling in my stomach makes my eyes water whenever and my lips quiver as I read. I don’t know this feeling, and I don’t like this. Reggie’s that kind of persons, he’s the kind I think I’d never be fully mad at. 

I lay in my bed in the late at night. Thinking of nothing but Reggie’s body an my last fucking exam tommorow morning. I like this quietness, althought it would be better with Reggie. Fuck. I should stop thinking like that. I like the moonlight at this time and I like the feeling on my skin against the bed. I like it, all that it is

Just as I was about to exit my messages app, it scrolls back down to Reggie’s chat, notifying me of a new message. 

iMessage from Reggie

i wanna go home 

you read that in 2 second, u were waiting for me? please tell me u were waiting for me 

i miss your lips 

so damn much i could almost taste them 


(read: 3:27am) 


I feel so tempted to reply back. To tell him that thoughs of him have taken over my brain and I can’t help but feel like shit although he’s the one doing all the demage. He’s the one who walked out when I asked him to come clean with me, and he’s the one running away now for a reason he won’t bother telling me. 

I need to stop reminding myself that we’re not together. He can do whatever the hell he wants and i have nothing to say in it whatsoever. I can’t even allow myself to be mad at him. 

I debate in my head wheter I sould reply to ease this misery, knowing he’d been messaging me desperately for the past few days. I miss him like hell. If this is what it felt like not having his arms curled up around my body and his hair tickling my neck. I can only imagine what it would feel like withouth him at all. I decide to message him, a reply something he said says ago. My fingers type the words, staring at them for a few seconds before I press send. 

iMessage to: Reggie

I’m yours 


iMessage from: Reggie 

really?? u decide to text me back when i go to pee? now im happy and the pee wont come out properly 


iMessage to: Reggie

where r u? 


iMessage from Reggie 


im scared and im tired and i just want you 

i fucked up so bad princess, like i always do, but i want you so fucking bad 



iMessage to Reggie

you already have me 




iMessage from Reggie 

now 

i want you now 


iMessage to Reggie

my heart hurts Reggie 

and the only person i can tell is the person who hurt me 

you 

so fuck you 


iMessage from: Reggie

you dont understand 


iMessage to Reggie 

then explain, cause i cant go through this, im not someone you can play with and throw away, talk to me, im beggining you to talk to me 


iMessage from Reggie: 

park on 5th, right fucking now! 



tell me if you like it. Your opinion is important to me so feel free :) 

TAG FAM LIST:  @sunshine51879  @isntskatesatan @dempsey-mantle @jellybeanjoncs @sweetvengeancee @archie-puppydogeyes-andrews 
@soninetynine  @arkhamasylumpatient-blog1 @little-weirdo-13 @lustfulskam


Flashes (Part 2)

Summary: Soulmate AU. “The fault, dear Brutus is not in our stars, / But in ourselves, that we are underlings.” - William Shakespeare (Julius Caesar)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 1,831

Warnings: language, fluff, wishful thinking, angst, sadness, borderline depression, sarcasm, discrimination, tw: terrible family relations, shunning

A/N: Well, I did it…at least I tried. The lovely @minervaem challenged me (sort of) to do an angsty story. I’m warning you now, it’s not gonna be pretty.

Lots of reader backstory here. Hopefully it’s not boring!

Part 1 - 2 - 3 - 4

Originally posted by heartsnmagic

Keep reading

“Savior” (Gaston)

word count: 713

request: I lived your gaston x reader! It was amazing! Please continue writing more of them

requested by: anon

summary: Your mom wants to marry you off to someone other than Gaston and he has a bit of a problem with that. You also seem to be the only one who can match wits with Gaston.

a/n: Yep! Another one, because I’m a hoe for Gaston but most of all, Luke Evans.

Originally posted by softtroublemaker

Keep reading

Glasses (Newt Scamander)

Originally posted by newt-and-pickett

Pairing: Newt Scamander/Reader
Words: 500+
Warning(s): None
A/N: I tried my best to make it as fluffy as I could.
Request: can you do a newt x reader where newt finds out the reader wears glasses (like they usually wear contacts but desperate times call for desperate measures)


Keep reading

Robb x Targaryen!Reader...

((I hope you all like! Might have gotten a little wordy! ALSO, anon, sorry I couldn’t find a way to add smut!))

Word Count: 2,218

Warning: None

He sat at the long table between his siblings and his mother. All six were true Starks, watching you with cold gazes that gave nothing away.

Keep reading

B99 + Tinder AU: in which Jake and Amy match on Tinder. 
→ set pre-show/early season onewritten after I impulsively downloaded Tinder instead of working on my other AU in progress

In a moment of insanity and slight tipsiness, she lets Kylie download Tinder on her phone. (”Amy, what do you want your Bio to say?” “Ooh, how about how I’m in a nationally-ranked trivia team?” “Nope, none of that.”)

In a moment of four-drink-drunkenness, she swipes right on Jake Peralta. 


She wakes up on Saturday morning with her mouth dry and her head pounding. Groaning, Amy lifts one hand to shield her eyes from the way-too-bright light streaming in through the curtains. With her other hand, she gropes blindly for her phone on the bedside table. When she doesn’t find it immediately, she drags herself out of bed and makes her way toward the kitchen. 

She gets herself a glass of water and fishes her phone out of her purse, which was on the floor just a few paces away from the messy heap of fabric that was her coat and scarf. 

She opens her phone, and her eyebrows scrunch together at the notification on the screen: “Congratulations! You have a new match!

Her eyes flicker to the icon accompanying the message. The small red flame brings back hazy memories of the night before - Kylie taking her phone hostage and downloading the app, Kylie setting up her profile, the two of them cracking up while swiping left and right for an hour. 

She sips from her glass and pulls up the app with a sigh. She taps the screen a few times to check her matches and messages, bracing herself for anything inappropriate and praying she didn’t send out anything too terrible herself. (She doesn’t recall doing any messaging of her own, but she also doesn’t recall getting home and throwing her jacket on the floor, so.) 

She chuckles at a few of the messages and grimaces at others, but her heart nearly stops, and she almost drops her glass when she scrolls down and sees a very familiar name.

In his tiny profile picture, he’s looking somewhere off camera and has a single eyebrow raised. His lips are drawn into a somewhat half smirk, half smile. For some reason, she can just hear Gina’s voice, giving him directions on how to pose. (”Okay, Jake. Remember, we’re going for sexy, but not like we’re trying too hard. Like, sure, we’re trying, but it’s almost effortless.”) 

There’s a blue star on his photo, and Amy vaguely recalls Kylie telling her this means he swiped up to “Super Like” her. Her ears burn at the idea Jake would ever actually super like her. 

After setting her glass down on her coffee table and taking a seat on her couch (to avoid breaking glassware, falling over, or other potential consequences), she takes a deep breath and opens up his messages. 

santiago’s on tinder?! whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat?!?!?!!! were the magic themed singles nights not working out for you? :o

gotta say i’m supes flattered you swiped right

but fyi i’m totally going to bring this up at briefing on monday

the whole world has to know i matched with amy santiago!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

She rolls her eyebrows but continues reading. 

uh

unless you don’t want me to?? 

ames??????????????

k you’re not replying

that tells me you either passed out in shock after matching with me (tbh i get it, nbd) 

or you and kylie are having the craziest night of your life :P 

There’s a new timestamp before the next message, and when she checks, she finds he sent it over half an hour after the prior one.

look i’m only saying this cause you swiped right first but if this wasn’t a joke and you were actually interested, i’d be up for dinner or whatever 

It’s the last of his messages, and it sends her reeling. 

Heart racing and hands shaking, she fumbles with her phone to call her best friend. She figures the woman who got her in this mess should help her out of it.

“H-hello?” Kylie’s voice is hoarse and weak, and this makes Amy feel a teensy bit better about her own hangover. Except she’s still freaking out. 

“KYLIE! DID I SWIPE RIGHT ON JAKE PERALTA LAST NIGHT?”

There’s a laugh on the other line. “Honey, you grabbed your phone from me to swipe right the second his face came on the screen and then yelled at it when he hadn’t responded within 30 seconds. You didn’t even bother reading his bio - although I checked, and it was just full of Die Hard quotes and emojis… Not the best or most creative. Like what does that even mean dating-wise? What does that tell you about him as a potential lover? Nothing, Amy, nothing. The only thing it says is that his ideal date is probably a Die Hard marathon and make out session.“

“Oh, God, can we not analyze Peralta’s Tinder profile right now?” 

You asked about him! Anyway, what’s up, boo? Did your smoking hot partner actually match with you?” 

“Smoking hot?”

“Your words, not mine.” 

Her cheeks flare up at that, and she groans. She combs her free hand through her hair. “He might have… sent me a bunch of messages and said he was up for dinner or whatever if I was actually interested.”

Kylie makes a high-pitched squeal, and Amy has to bring her phone away from her ear for a second. When she brings it back, her best friend’s talking a mile a minute. “So you are going out with him, right? There is no way in hell you are passing this up, Amy. You’ve been into him forever! You know what, I’m ending this call right now. You need to message him back or text him or call him or something. Text me updates ASAP!” 

The line goes silent after that, and Amy’s left with a bigger headache than the one she woke up with. 

After staring at the ceiling for another minute or hour (she can’t tell), she goes back into the app and pulls up his message. Throwing all caution to the wind, she sends: Hey! :) Are you free tonight?

His reply comes almost instantaneously, which is good because she otherwise would have gone insane.

ya! what do you want to do?? i’m up for anything ;)

ps that winky face wasn’t meant to be sexual or anything, we could literally just sit and talk and eat

or something

no pressure 

An increasingly familiar swell of affection rises in her chest. She pauses to consider her response. Die Hard and takeout at my place?

noice. i’ll be there @ 6

can’t wait, ames!!!!!!! ♥

A series of knocks sounding vaguely like the Imperial March announces his arrival later. Amy tucks her hair behind her ears, takes a deep breath, and gets the door. 

Jake has a boyish grin on his face and a spark of amusement in his eyes. “Y’know, Amy, Tinder’s Safety Tips page says you’re always meant to meet someone in public. I hope you don’t invite all your matches to your apartment for movie night. What would Holt say if you got murdered? How would we explain your death to your parents?”

She chuckles and rolls her eyes. Just like that, all the nervousness she felt dissipates. “Come in, Jake.” 

The night ends up going on both of their good date lists. - They order Chinese and fight over the last egg roll. Jake recites half the lines of the movie. (Only half because Amy shushes him at some point). They make out on her couch as the end credits roll over the screen. 

They also delete their Tinder accounts. 

Permanently. 

A Wild Night in Vegas -- Part 13

Here’s the next installment! This is a new record for myself and @outlandishchridhe - 14 PAGES!! I’ll put it below a cut so it doesn’t take up vast amounts of space on all your dashes. If it doesn’t work, as always, let me know and I’ll see if I can get it to you somehow. 

We always have so much fun writing this story and adore all the comments we get from you guys. Writing this is always a source of peace and rest from our hectic lives. Thanks for following along with us in this crazy journey!

Part 12


Fraser Bairn Watch: Month 7

“Miss Beauchamp? A word please?”

Keep reading

Night Walks - Part 2

Part 1 here

Summary: You like to take late night walks to de-stress, you meet a stranger named Bucky who does the same. 

Prompt(s): Okay I’m combining two: pandarosita: 93 and 94… but Reader being upset rather than Bucky? and an anon request for 64.

93.“I’m telling you. I’m haunted.”
94. “I had a bad dream again.”
Bonus: 64 “Here, take my blanket.”

Warnings: angsty reader

Word Count: 2539

Author’s Note: Okaaay here you go!

Originally posted by jamesbhrnesvevo

You started meeting with Bucky in the park pretty regularly after that.

Sometimes it was light and fun, and you’d maybe meet in time to catch a drink together before the bars closed. Sometimes you’d be brave enough to lean up on your toes to kiss him, or he’d playfully pull you incredibly close, his fingers digging into your side when he discovered just how ticklish you were. Finally, he’d walk you to your door with half-hidden smiles and hushed laughter. On those nights the closeness was tentative and teasing, like a first kiss or an early not-yet-date.

Other times felt heavier. After all, the reason you were out so late, had met at all, was to escape the ghosts that haunted you both in the quiet dark, and some nights they were inescapable, even beneath his comforting gaze or for him the promise of your gentle laughter.

Keep reading

Beautiful Frankenstein

Warnings: A bit of swearing

Request: Can yoy do my requesting of a Jerome imagine where the reader puts Jerome’s face back on with needle and thread, lightly chastising him for using staples, to which he replies that the metal gave him an edge but she tells him that sowing it will make it heal faster.

Originally posted by twofacedharveydent


You never thought that you’d ever have to sew anything ever again after girl scouts. Especially not skin. But, of course Jerome never ceased to stay away from sharp objects or dangerous objects. So here you were peeling off your gorgeously handsome boyfriend’s face. The skin was hanging off his face with only  few staples left, that he put on on the way to your house. Meeting a staple you took some teasers and pulled it out.

“Why did you have to use staples?” You quietly asked him. “Its gross.”

You stuck your tongue out and gagged at Jerome. He cackled at you, and slapped his knee.

“Hold still J!”

“I’m sorry gorgeous you’re very amusing.” He said it both jokingly and sarcastically.

You rolled your eyes and pulled the last staple out. Putting them into a now  ruined little glass bowl.  You pulled a little bit harshly and he winced. Then proceeded to fakely hiss loudly.

“Yeah, yeah.” You murmured.

Cringing back you took the skin and held it up between your pointer finger and your thumb. Gently you laid it down on the table beside the small bowl of staples. Taking the needle you put the thread through it, getting it ready to sew Jerome’s face on.

“Why did you use staples?” You chastised more.

“Because it looked badass.” He whined, as he noticed you were chastising him.

“You looked like Frankenstein.”

He scoffed offended and slammed his hand on his heart. You giggled.

“Okay you have to hold still.”

“Do you really have to sew it?” He gave you a pouty lip.

“Well yeah.” You said confused.

“Why can’t I staple it?” He asked like a child. “It gave me an edge.”

Huffing you put your needle and thread down on the table. Then you proceeded to squat down meeting this level at which he was sitting.

“Jerome you have two choices. One, you can look like your old self and let me sew it so that you can heal. Or you can continue to tear up your skin and put staples in your face like Frankenstein.”

“Fine, fine, fine stitch me up princess.”

He sat up straight and closed his eyes. Slowly you lined the skin up with his face. Although it was gross you held it still without shaking. 

“Okay, handsome this is gonna sting.”

He chuckled and smiled, his face muscles pulled causing some blood to fall. You started sewing at the top of his head going slow. You looked down and saw Jerome’s hand clench the edge of the chair. Wincing you continued to stitch up his face. His skin was smooth and his muscles continued to bleed. You kept a wet towel for when the blood got onto the skin.  After around a careful hour of going very slow, his face was complete. 

“There you go sweetheart!”

“Fuck that wasn’t pleasant. But, then it was.”

You rolled your eyes and giggled as he pulled you into his lap. He kissed your cheek and spun you around to look at his new and improved face. You looked at your wonderful new piece of work.

“Jerome you better not fuck my masterpiece up,” You waved your hand from the top of his hand to the bottom of his chin. 

“Give it up gorgeous, i’m always beautiful.”