how about no with your dresses

27 Dress Code Violations

@jilychallenge 04/2017 | @bantasticbeasts vs @anxiouspotter

Muggle AUs | “i get dress coded so you give me your jacket and we protest unfair regulations for girls together/you sass the teacher about how distracted you are by my shoulders”

Word Count: 2500

special shoutout to @jiilys. solidarity, sister

AO3


i.

She walks into English fifteen minutes late, wearing both a deeply unflattering smock and a scowl. Neither are an especially new look on her.

“Vector,” she says under her breath, as an answer to Mary McDonald’s unspoken question. It’s the answer to every question in the room. Ms Vector is notorious among them all for her very strict adherence to the school’s dress code.

“Yes, Miss Evans’ entrance was very exciting, but I’ll have your attention back to the lesson now, please,” says Ms McGonagall. James snaps back to attention. It’s for the best.

ii.

“Here,” James says, shrugging off his jacket and thrusting it toward Lily. She gives him this look like, fuck off, and James has to bite his tongue to stop from aggravating her. “They’re doing uniform checks up the hall. Just put it on.”

Evans gives him a very strange look, and it takes him a second to realise that it’s neutral.

She looks good in his jacket.

iii. 

Every third dress code violation results in a lunch time detention. It’s only October, and Lily’s already had six. She doesn’t look at James as she takes the seat three ahead and one to the left of him.

iv.

There’s a thump from somewhere in the back of the classroom, and McGonagall isn’t planning on looking up - it sounds like it came from the general vicinity of Potter and Black, and that’s certainly not a situation she wants to engage with - but the entire class is already turned around to see what the fuss is.

She strides down the aisle between the desks, and is about three years past surprised to find James Potter lying on the floor, gazing at the ceiling, glasses knocked aside.

“Am I boring you so much that you decided to take a nap?” she asks, and James gives this wicked smile, and here we go–

“Sorry, Miss, I can’t get up. It’s Evans’ shoulders - they’re overwhelming me. I simply can’t do anything until she covers them up. Sirius, tell me when it’s safe.”

He’s a funny boy, she’ll give him that. “Potter, get up. This is hardly the time for foolishness.”

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About the new dress
  • <p> <b>Jon:</b> New dress?<p/><b>Sansa:</b> I made it myself. Do you like it?<p/><b>Sansa internally:</b> I don't really need your opinion on this masterpiece but if you could admit how it crushed your soul, it would be nice.<p/><b>Jon:</b> I like the wolf bit.<p/><b>Sansa:</b> ** smiles, walks away**<p/><b>Sansa internally:</b> Did he just use 5 words to describe this marvelous creation of mine? 5 words?<p/><b>Jon internally:</b> Maybe I should have said how much I liked the green on her and how the velvet complimented the grey embroideries. Oh I didn't even get to tell her how it made her blue eyes sparkle like melted ice under the sun. But the wolf bit was the most beautiful detail of the dress though. You did good, Snow. That was a poetical compliment.<p/><b>Jon:</b> **Smiles and put on his new coat**<p/></p>
Imagine going to the museum with Steve....

As you wandered through the museum with Steve you couldn’t help but feel a ping of sadness when you casted your eyes on the mannequin wearing Jame’s uniform, in front of his perfect face. 

Both dressed in disguises you both looked for longer then you should have, and when you turned around, you were face to face with the wall dedicated to James Buchanan Barnes, knowing on the other side was the one with your own name on it, and a small write up about your bravery and how you also froze in that plane. 

On your display however was bot just your face but also the photographs found in your bunk. 

“You know we have come to this exhibit at least 20 times since the whole New York incident, and I swear it doesn’t get any easier.” You whispered as you rounded the wall. 

Your eyes landing on the browning photograph in the middle of the line up, you standing in between your two best friends, pre-serum. To the right was another one of you and Steve pre serum, which Bucky took the day you all graduated. It was the one on the left though which made you feel the ping of loss. For it was you and James at a USO gathering, He in his uniform, and you in a red dress (however to other viewers it was a dark brown color). One of your hands was in his, while the other rested on his chest, his free hand rested on your waist, neither of you looking at Steve who had the camera, opting instead to look at each other with smiles plaster on your faces. You feel asleep looking at that photograph after it was taken. 

“Good I was starting to think I was the only one still not used to this.” Steve smiled as your fingers lingered on the protective glass protecting the photo. 

“Think they would notice if these went missing?” You chuckled as Steve watched you. 

“Probably." 

"What do you think happened to him? I mean I know they said he went off the grid but do you…" 

"I am sure he lived a happy life.” Steve replied, before leading you away, and out the door. 

You wanted to believe Steve so badly, and you did for a while. However while driving in the gray car on the bridge with Sam and Natasha, your belief became wavered, when you saw a set of eyes looking so similar to the ones you feel in love with back in the 40’s. You shook the feeling though of familiarity however, and let your natural born fighter instincts kick in…. That was until…… 

“Bucky.” Steve whispered as you shot at a HYDRIA member, ignoring the assassin behind you, at the sound of that whisper though you whipped around and thought you might faint. 

“Whose Bucky?” James asked as he looked at you both emotionless. 

Steve wore the face of confusion and you had to fight ever urge not to run into his arms. “James.” Your voice shook as you looked at him, silence filled the streets as James prepared for another attack, and then…. He was gone. And you were on your knees under arrest, with tears streaming down your face. 

“It was like he didn’t even know us.” You whispered to Steve as they put the cuffs on you, knowing he was feeling the same as you.

James sat in the chair, people all moving around him as they stitched him up, his eyes looking as though he was deep in thought, images of the woman from the bridge filling his memory as he sat there. He saw you in many different forms though, as a little girl on a playground, as a teenager in a hallway, crying in a bus station, dressed in fancy dresses in dining halls, and dance rooms, wearing a uniform next to the man on the bridge, and then he saw the day he lost his arm… And one name crossed his mind as he watched himself get frozen in that cell…..[Y/N]. Of course in this instances he also saw the man on the bridge, but you were the focus of each one, and the mere memory of your prescription made his heart rate increase. “Who were those people on the bridge?” He asked as Pierce glared him down. “None of your concern.” “Was one of them [Y/N]?” He asked, the silence answering his question, “Did you assign me to assassinate the love of my life?” “I want his memory wiped. And I want it done now.” Pierce barked, before the room was filled with Jame’s screams.

3

Wesley: “You’re all dressed up. Don’t you have somewhere better to be?”

Denise really doesn’t know how to answer that question. She doesn’t know what compelled her to come and see Wesley. Part of her thinks that maybe she’s the only one who can reach out to him and see if she can make him open up about the death of her mother and giving away his son to his parents.

Denise: “I…uhh…I was at my bachelorette party and your mother…”

Wesley: “Of course, my mother!”

Concept: What do you mean your name isn’t Dad?

Lunch time was approaching and you had your hands full. You had a five year old yacking away in your ear about absolutely nothing, a screaming newborn making a fuss in the swing, a nine year old and seven year old going toe to toe on where to sit at the table, an eleven year old tuned out to the world with her eyes glued to her phone, not being any help, and a husband who had vanished from the chaos.

You took pride in Niall being your husband. He was a generous and affectionate partner, a kind and compassionate father to your four daughter and one son. He was how every father should be with their children; Patient and funny, loving and adventurous, relaxed and entertaining. He almost never missed a second of anything, including the tea parties and the dress up and playing with dolls, bandaging the scraped knees and kissing the bruises and soothing the fevers. Your friends complained about their husbands being useless, lazy, and turning a tad bit mean. It brought you just a bit of pleasure to rub it in their faces of how great Niall was in every area.

You snapped your fingers at the arguing children, telling them to get in their seats and stop the bickering. You instructed the toddler to do the same, raising your eyebrow as a warning when she stomped her foot because she wanted to be as attached to you as possible and have your undivided attention. You stuck a pacifier in the baby’s mouth, only for it to be spat back out. 

Just as Jesus told the waves to be still, Niall walked into the room and all the commotion seized. Juliet and Hannah stuck their lips back in, Katie’s incoming tears stopped, Vivian had her phone face down on the table, and Eddie’s reddened face turned to its natural rosy complexion. He cooed happily at the sight of his old man. The silence was louder than the actual chaos. Niall scanned the kitchen incredulously, wondering why all had fallen all of a sudden. You tried not to huff. Niall was everyone’s favorite, your kids were eager to please him, but they always cut up a notch when he wasn’t around.

Niall offered a hand and you graciously took it. You sat at the table with the kids, Eddie cradled in your arms as you fed him and directed your husband from all the way across the kitchen on how to cut the sandwiches, explaining that only one shouldn’t have crust on it. Hannah hated crust, she even hated the word crust. You didn’t get it, it was all just bread. Niall snickered, claiming he knew what to do. 

Plates of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches sided with potato chips were passed around the table. They all dove in as soon as their plates were set in front of them.

“Slow down, can’t have you all choking at once.” You heard Niall joke. 

You didn’t look up to know the girls were stuffing their faces. Your eyes were settled on the infant in your arms. Eddie looked up at you with crystal blue eyes, as clear as his fathers. He looked the most like Niall out of the five.

From outside of the house, you could hear a vehicle. It was almost hard to miss, the sound of the breaks squealing all through the neighborhood, along with the sound of your neighbors mailboxes being slammed shut. It was that time of the day when the mailman, or woman, did their rounds. Katie jumped in her seat. She loved the mailman, or mail woman. She often told you that’s what she wanted to be when she grew up. Retrieving the mail from the mailbox was actually listed as a household chore. Katie lived and breathed for whenever it was her turn to go out and get the mail from the mailbox.

“Mail’s here!” She jumped up from her seat, abandoning her food, and sprinted to the front door. It was useless for you to tell her to stop and get back in her seat because she passed you in a millisecond. 

Unfortunately for Katie, Niall was a lot faster. He caught her from under her arms and carried her back, plopping back into her seat and scooting her close to the table as if she weighted nothing.

“Not today, Missy Ma’am.” Niall said as he did so. “Sit and eat.”

Katie put on a subtle frown and went back to eating her food. Juliet quickly swallowed her food to speak.

“Daddy, can I go get it this time?” She asked. 

She almost never got the mail, the job almost never went to anyone else except Katie. Juliet’s main chore was to put toys away, including her sisters and now her little brothers. Though Eddie was just born a few weeks ago, he didn’t have as many toys as she did. For Eddie, Juliet dragged his swing out of the way and made sure it was turned off to save the battery.

“Next time, my Jewel. Eat your lunch. You can do it tomorrow.” Niall promised her. 

“Da, there’s no mail on Sundays!” Hannah reminded him. Niall gently slapped his forehead.

“Right you are. On Monday, then.” Niall nodded and winked. 

He quickly put on his slippers and stepped out to get the mail from the box. In less than a minute, he returned with white envelopes in hand. Niall sorted through them as he locked up and kicked her slippers off. Most of them were bills addressed to Niall, and a magazine for you. Niall set it gently in front of you, his mail next to yours. 

The kitchen was peaceful as everyone ate, Eddie drifting off to sleep and you mindlessly looking at the pictures in the magazine. Vivian was on her phone, as per usual, barely speaking a word but her food was gone. Niall took her plate and washed it. You lightly frowned and complained how there was nothing interesting in your subscribed magazine anymore and reminded yourself to cancel your subscription. Hannah wanted to know if she could read it, and then Juliet asked if she could when Hannah was done. You gave the magazine up, Juliet sitting oddly in her seat to look at the same pages Hannah was looking through.

There wasn’t much conversation, everyone occupied in their own little world. You snuggled Eddie just a little bit longer, rubbing the top of his head and feeling his fine hair against your fingertips. Niall was looking out the kitchen window, examining the backyard. He’d have to cut the grass soon. 

Katie’s eyes absentmindedly looked down at the envelopes that were rested next to her. She knew her address by heart. You and Niall stressed how important it was for her to know where she lived, also her parents phone numbers. Her teacher taught a lesson about it in school, associated with how to properly write and address a letter. Katie recognized the numbers, the street name, and the postal code instantly. Then she was stumped. There was a name on the front that she did not know, a first and last name. The last name she also knew because it was hers. Was she missing something?

There was mommy and daddy, Vivian, Hannah, Juliet, and Eddie, and herself, running through everyone in the household. She sat to herself for a moment, swimming in a pool of confusion. Katie was dying of curiosity. 

“Who’s Ni-ale?” She asked out loud. 

If it wasn’t for the sleeping baby in your arms, you would have burst out into laughter. This was funny for two reasons. The first reason because Niall having his name mispronounced, whether on accident or on purpose, was his number one pet peeve. If it was an accident, Niall would give an awkward chuckle and and correct the mistake. If it was done on purpose, he would huff loudly and ignore it, sometimes shoot a sarcastic remark back or something just as annoying. You particularly loved to get under Niall’s skin that way. Neal, Noel, Nail, Napoleon, Nickle you’ve called him everything except Niall. It drove him absolutely nuts.

The second reason why you found this absolutely hilarious because of the shock factor when kids find out that their parents have their own names besides mom and dad. You and Niall have already been through this when Vivian was much younger. She cried all day, claiming she felt lied to. As of right now, she was sucked into the world of Twitter, Tumblr, Snapchat, whatever the hell she was so occupied with. 

Since Vivian, you’ve obviously have had three other children, and they were all about to get an earth shattering reality check.

“Who?” You asked, pretending not to understand what Katie was saying.

“Who is Nay-all?” Katie read, to the best of her ability, straight off the envelope. You pressed your lips together trying not to laugh.

Niall’s head had turned from daydreaming out of the window to look at you, giving you a discrete stink eye as you silently died of laughter. 

“I believe that says Niall.” He corrected. It was very hard to get mad at his daughter, one of the brightest stars in his life. Niall was generally slow to anger, and if he learned one thing from having five children and a four of them being daughters, it was how to be patient. 

“Who’s that?” Suddenly Hannah and Juliet were engaged in conversation. Their heads turned to Niall for an explanation.

“That’s me, that’s my name.”

Juliet looked to Hannah, as if she was silently asking “Did you know this?” Hannah looked back at her, widening her eyes and signaling “No, I didn’t.” Katie blinked, looking down at the envelope and back at her dad.

“No it’s not.” She said practically. You accidentally let a giggle slip, admiring the scene unfolding in front of you. 

“Yes it is, darlin’. That’s my real name.” Niall confirmed, hiding a smile. 

It was obvious that this was a serious moment to them, but Niall couldn’t help but smile at his girls when they were learning something new, or in general. Smiling in their faces and laughing at them would be considered rude to him.

“Who calls you that?” Juliet wanted to know. She sure didn’t call him that. Everyone always called him Da, Dad, or Daddy.

“Ev’rybody does.” Niall shrugged. “Even mom does.”

“Why?” Hannah questioned.

“Because that’s my real name.” Niall said.

“Has your name always been Neal?” Katie carefully asked, still coming to grips with this new information.

“For as long as I can remember, and it’s Niall. Not Neal.” 

“Naile.”

“No, Niall.”

“Ni-ale.”

Ni-all.

You sat back and watched the three gang up on their dad, pondering with questions about his identity. You called him Niall in front of the girls, all the time you thought, but probably not enough for them to pick up on. You mostly used dad or daddy. There was no way you could keep holding Eddie in your arms without waking him up from your stifling giggles. You sat him in the swing.

“Who gave you that name?” Hannah asked.

“My parents did, as we gave you your names.” Niall mentioned, a good example. They understood that.

“Why don’t we call you Niall?” Juliet pondered.

“Because children shouldn’t call their parents by their first name.” He explained.

“Why?”

“I don’t know, they just shouldn’t.” Niall shrugged.

“Can we call you Niall now?” Katie was sitting on her knees, hoping that she could.

“No, don’t do that.” 

“Why?”

“Because you shouldn’t.” 

“Why?”

“I’m not gonna play the Why Game with you lot.” Niall chuckled. Katie laughed, she had your laugh. It was a beautiful sound, his children laughing was music to Niall’s ears, but not quite as breathtaking as the laughs theirs originated from.

You sat in your seat, taking in the debate between a three kids and a man going on forty. It made your heart swell with love and affection for everyone in the room, seeing how fascinated the girls were with Niall and seeing how gentle and patient he was with them, even when he was outnumbered and faced with one of his ticks. 

“I already knew that.” Vivian finally chimed in. 

“Ah, she speaks!” You teased. 

“I know mommy’s name too.” She mentioned. The trio turned, the spotlight now on you.

Vivian was the one who wanted to prove herself, to prove what she already knew and learned and what she could do. She never missed a moment where she could give her two cents on something. 

“Let’s see if you guys can guess it.” You offered. Now it was Niall’s turn to watch a lifechanging scene unfold.

You motioned for the magazine that was still open and sitting in front of Hannah. She passed it to you. You flipped to the cover and slid it in front of Katie, pointed to where it was addressed to you. Katie looked over the words, pronouncing slowly as she did so. Finally, she got it, and she got it right.

“You’re absolutely right. Got it on the first try!” You praised her, patting her on the top of her head. 

“That’s a pretty name, I like it.” Juliet complimented. You humbly thanked her.

“See, I knew that. I also know your middle names, and mommy’s maiden name as well. You told me once, and I remembered.” Vivian slightly bragged.

“Let’s not get carried away with the names.” Niall jumped in. 

Niall rounded the table to adjust Katie in her seat, who had shifted to sitting on her knees and practically climbed onto the table, probably too excited to sit still. She ate neatly, her sitting habits were a mess. He tapped her shoulders, reminding her to sit on her bottom like an actual human being. Niall scooted her closer to the table again and adjusted her plate, with a sandwich that had one bite in it and all of her potato chips gone, in front of her. 

“Okie dokie, Niall.” She snickered. Niall tsked.

“Very funny. Eat your food.” 

Red

I am FINALLY done with this. Hope you guys enjoy it, please let me know if you do, your comments are very much appreciated. Lots of love, B xx

Originally posted by hotsauceharry

Red.

It’s all he can see when he looks at you. It’s the color that paints your lips and it’s the only thing he’s been able to think about all night long.

When he picked you up earlier tonight, on your way to a dinner with a group of friends, his eyes had zoomed in on your lips the second you opened the car door to greet him - while you stepped inside and leaned in to say hello, placing a chaste and pert kiss on his cheek, his eyes followed your lips as you came closer.

“What color is that? Crimson? Bright red?” Is what he thinks, the shades of it swirling in his mind. He doesn’t know and he’s tempted to ask you but to do that was to show he’s been paying more attention to you than he’s got the right to and maybe it’d give you the wrong impression - he’s not interested in your lipstick but more on the way the color makes your lips look full and incredibly inviting.

Biting onto his bottom lip after greeting you quickly, his eyes fleet to his rear view mirror, spotting the patch of skin close to his jaw where you had placed your kiss - a lipstick mark remains, the shape of your lips stamped onto his skin in a bright shade of red.

The sight gave him goose bumps and he couldn’t explain why, but when you leaned forward on his front seat, the visor pulled down so you could look in the mirror and make sure your lipstick was not smudged, Harry felt his stomach sink - images of you on your knees, eyes hazy and lips swollen while you suck on his cock with greedy, swollen and red painted lips, leaving a stain on his length, invaded his mind without his permission and he feels his cock twitch in his pants, heat rising underneath his skin.

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You weren’t suppose to leave. I wasn’t suppose to be in the pain I am right now. We were suppose to be together doing everything we loved to do, like go on random trips to random places and eat all the food we loved. I’d be holding your hand as we drove, and sneak over the occasional kisses. We would have our amazing dates where we would dress up, as well as our staying in dates, where we would watch all your favorite shows and movies. Even though I didn’t like some, you know I would always do anything for you. We would have our late night conversations about the most random things like aliens and mermaids. Or about the universe and how we both believed we were soulmates. I’d be admiring the sleeping figure in my arms as your breathing evened out. I’d be observing you as you slept, and not to be creepy at all, but I would always do it any chance I got because dear God, you were so perfect and so unaware of it. I could have sworn you were the one. You brought so much happiness to my life and you made it complete. You encouraged me and believed in me when no one else did. But what happened? How did I end up in the corner of my room sobbing as you left and took my life with you? How did it end like this?
Nursemaid

(Jimin’s crush comes over to his house to help him out after he suffers an injury that leaves him with limited use of both hands.)

Warnings: 6000+ words of smut, Jimin POV, I’ll let you guess what kind of smut takes place


“I can’t believe you managed to injure both of your hands on the same day.” Hoseok’s girlfriend, Sophie, stifled a laugh while she said it. “I can’t tell if you are dumb or just unlucky.”

 Jimin sighed.  He had been stupid and drunk when he and Jungkook went out into the street to play with fireworks.  One went off too close to his hand, burning his right palm requiring a trip to the emergency room where his injury was cleaned and bandaged.  The doctor gave him a lecture about drunk people and explosives and how fortunate he was not to have blasted off his fingers.            

While exiting the hospital, Jimin immediately tripped over the curb and landed with his full weight onto his left hand resulting in a small fracture and return trip to the emergency room to get a splint to immobilize his other hand.   Now, every time Jimin saw someone, he had to suffer the embarrassment of explaining what happened. People had a hard time not laughing when they heard how he managed to get hurt twice in one day.

 “Does it hurt much?” you asked him.

“Not really. As long as I don’t bump into anything or use my fingers too much, it’s okay.” At least you seemed to be genuinely concerned about his well-being. That’s one of the reasons Jimin liked you, you always seemed caring and sincere.  The other main reason he liked you was because he thought you were incredibly hot.  There were plenty of nights Jimin stayed up fantasizing about what it would feel like to be with you.  He wanted to ask you out, but had been waiting until there was some indication that you were even the slightest bit interested in him.  He was starting to think that maybe he had a chance with you, but he felt neutered with his injuries, unable to do things like casually touch you and see how you would respond to his advances.  Jimin resolved to make a move as soon as he had full use of his hands again.

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I don’t think people understand how utterly terrifying it is to have repressed memories & to have so many missing chunks of your childhood….. like .. literally, it is so awful?? To literally know that these Bad Things have happened to you but being unable to know what they are and who did them etc… especially people w/ out childhood trauma or ptsd. It is so so horrible that I don’t even know that I can explain it right now. I just wish it was more widely talked about past our little group of Tumblr trauma blogs yanno?
I just want people to know that repressed memories aren’t “fake” like you don’t just randomly make things up and then call them recovered memories??? It’s very real, and it’s so unbearably re-traumatizing to get these memories back, even small ones. And to miss parts of your life is absolutely terrible, and you don’t have any control over when you’re gonna get memories back. There’s no way to just… conjure up the memories !! You have to wait. And wait. Until a moment in your day when you’re thinking about your mom and the way she used to dress, and about a question your therapist asked you yesterday about clothing and then suddenly you see your mom and you in a room and she is hurting you. And you fall to the floor or you stop or you cry or you dissociate or you just . You just feel everything. Or nothing. But it’s back and it’s real and it’s absolutely awful because that one memory, you know, is so tiny in comparison to all the things you don’t remember, and you know how fucking much getting the rest of them back is going to hurt bc this small sliver of trauma sent you falling to the floor in tears.

It’s absolutely terrible and it hurts me every single day and I just feel like it isn’t talked about enough, people who don’t have experience with it don’t understand how horrible it is, don’t understand that it’s not just some silly little, “omg yeah I can’t remember when I was a small infant and my mom took me to the zoo!!” Like. No. I can’t remember anything from years and years of my childhood. And it’s scary. And people need to recognize it as such

Cheap Thrills (reader x Bucky Oneshot)

Characters: reader, Natasha, Sam, Clint, Tony, Bucky, OC Mark. 

Summary: A bet within the Avengers becomes a battle of the sexes, with you at the center of it. Who will be victorious and could it somehow help you snag the man of your dreams? 

Song Inspiration: Cheap Thrills by Sia

Warnings: drinking, sexist behavior? Mild violence mentioned, very subtle mention of sexy times. 

Word Count: 3.3k

A/N: This was supposed to be a short one, but eh. I’ve been living in the land of heavy angst with You are My Heaven and intense stress in my real life so when this fun, fluffy idea popped up, I ran with it. I’m working on a lot of other stuff so be patient, please! As always, I appreciate your feedback. Love each and every one of you!! 

Masterlist

_________________________________________________________

Originally posted by luvinchris

“Uh uh. No way.”

“It’s true, trust me.”

“You wanna bet?” Clint challenged the redhead across the table from him.

Natasha leaned forward and held his gaze, not an ounce of doubt in her demeanor. “Absolutely.”

It was too early in the morning for this childish banter, you thought from your seated position at the far end of the long kitchen table. You slumped forward, dipping the tea bag in and out of the steaming mug of liquid before you, then setting it on the small saucer beside it. Wrapping your hands around the cup’s warmth, your eyes unfocused as you continued to tune out the blathering of your teammates. The only other person in the room paying them no mind was Bucky, who was slouched in a cozy chair, thoroughly engrossed in a book.

“Now wait a minute,” a third voice joined the argument, “If we’re gonna do this, we gotta level the playing field a little. Nat could do this in her sleep. We need someone a little more…down to earth. How about Y/N?” Sam gestured toward you.

Blinking a few times, you finally broke out of your stupor. “Hey! I was only half listening to your stupidity, but I think I’m offended.”

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The Signs Falling/Being in Love

Aries: Appetite Loss - All you think about is him or her. Producing more dopamine, you feel little need for food or other basic necessities while floating through each day on a cloud of hope.  

Taurus: Abandon Regular Routines - You may abandon your work or your responsibilities.  Your thoughts and actions become devoted to your love interest.

Gemini: Fresh Complexion - You feel different and it shows. Others might catch you smiling or blushing for no apparent reasons..

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Zach asking you to sleep over at his house - Part 2

A/N: Sorry on such a long wait for this imagine. I hope that it was worth it though. Enjoy my lovelies:)


The final bell rings, signalling the end of class and also the end of the school day. You start packing up your things with shaky hands, your nerves getting the best of you. It’s Friday today. Which means it’s the beginning of the weekend. This also means that you will be going to Zach’s house, staying there for the next couple of days.

You have been able to stay calm and collected the next few days after he had asked you to sleep over at his house for the weekend, but right now you can’t help but start to feel really antsy. 

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Terms and Conditons. (Jeon Jungkook.)

Originally posted by jeony

Requested – Yes.

Prompt – Jungkook was out looking for a new flavor of the month and his eyes land on a certain previously taken girl.

Warning – This is a sugar daddy Jungkook scenario. Slight angst, more angst in the future and smut. This smut includes daddy kink.

Words – 2,259. 

Requests?

The energy was heightened as groups of individuals danced around the large ballroom held for an extravagant party. Jeon Jungkook was known to be quite a party planner when it came to his business because he always wanted to make a strong entrance plus he wanted to impress the girls that might be lucky enough to land in his bed that night.

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Phillipa Soo Doesn’t Leave It All Onstage (NYT Magazine):

Not two years ago, you made your Broadway debut in “Hamilton” and received a Tony nomination for playing Eliza, the wife of Lin-Manuel Miranda’s title character. Now you’re starring in a Broadway musical adaptation of “Amélie.” You graduated from Juilliard in 2012 — what does all of this feel like? 

There’s the cool factor, right? You see your face on a sign or your name on something, like: “Ahh! Here I am!” And then there’s a huge responsibility and the scary part of it, which is like, “Now what happens?” And then you realize, “Oh, yeah, this is my job.”

[…]

I’m sure you had many more illustrious visitors during your run in “Hamilton.” 

When the Obamas came, that was pretty special. When we visited the White House, I got to watch Chris Jackson sing “One Last Time” right in front of the portrait of George Washington, while Barack and Michelle Obama are sitting right there.

The final scene in “Hamilton,” where Eliza reconciles with her dead husband’s legacy, is pretty emotionally overwhelming. Did you need to rush back to your dressing room and decompress in silence? 

Some days. Doing a show eight times a week is kind of like doing yoga or tai chi. A vinyasa is the same every single time you do it, but depending on how you’re feeling, it tells you a lot about what’s happening in your life. So, there were days where I’d come offstage and be like, “Let’s go out and drink.” But you learn little tricks here and there. Some nights I’d say to myself, “I don’t know if I can watch my son die.” But you learn that you don’t have to go there every night; the writing does that.

You reunited with your “Hamilton” co-stars Renée Elise Goldsberry and Jasmine Cephas Jones to sing “America the Beautiful” at the Super Bowl. Was it a different experience to perform for tens of millions of people? 

I’m looking out and going, “That’s a lot of people.” But I didn’t really get nervous. Once we got up there, we couldn’t actually hear anything. All we could hear was our own voices. And I was like: “O.K., well, hopefully it sounds good. Am I even performing? Can you guys hear me?” […]

read the rest of the interview (including the list of Pippa’s top five female singer-songwriters)

Punk (Chap. 9)

Summary: You’re head over heels for you’re best friend Bucky and hate the nickname he gave you as it doesn’t exactly scream romance.

Word count: 3423

Warnings: Language, mission/war related violence and gore, shooting, enemy deaths, i think that’s all…*shrugs*

A/N: Chap.9  finally, I know!  This is a it of an information dump/setting the rest of the story arc up chapter.  I tried to dial down the angst since you lovies all told me how you cried on the last chapter :( and put some action and humour in instead.  I hope you like this one and I CAN’T WAIT to give you guys chapter 10 in a few days so please stick around through this one!  it’s worth the wait!

**I’m actually legit terrified that i peaked with the last chapter and nothing will ever be as good, especially this chapter, but i hope to give you guys a good story for the rest of the series.

Feedback fuels my life btw….and the picture is from google…i searched for beautiful things… ;]



“Kiddo, wake up we gotta go.”

Clint’s rough, scratchy voice woke you from an uneasy sleep.  Your head was pounding and your eyes felt sticky, as if they’d been glued together in the night.  “Mmm, wha—w’as happ’nin’?” you mumbled, rubbing a hand down your face. 

“Problem in Brooklyn, we gotta go.  Get dressed,” Clint replied.  He smacked your leg and the bed bounced as he got up and walked towards the closet.

“What about the desert? Nebraska?”

“New Mexico,” Clint clarified with a snort. “There’s no desert in Nebraska. Remind me to get you a map for your birthday.  Now, get—up.” He ripped the blanket away from you, causing you to squeal as cold air rushed over your legs.

“Gah!  I’m up! I’m up!”  You jolted upwards and scrambled out from the bed.  

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limerence: clumsy → 1

pairing: zach dempsey / reader

genre: part one in a drabble series called ‘limerence’ about boyfriend!zach 

about: not only did you literally stumble into zach, but into his heart as well. 


Your first day at a brand new school couldn’t be going better. You had single-handedly managed to rip your brand new silk dress, lose your class schedule, and make 0 friends in a span of less than 4 hours. 

“What kind of shit is this?” You thought to yourself as you searched the sea of students in the crowded hall for a friendly face, finding none. You needed to ask someone to show you where the science hall was and help you open your locker, but no one seemed to want to give you the time of day. 

There was a tedious familiarity of standing alone in a crowded space, watching people pass you by and feeling like you were merely an object strategically placed to display teenage normalcy. 

The end of lunch was fast approaching and standing feeling sorry for yourself was getting old. With newfound determination you bobby pinned the strap of your dress back on, put the loose tendrils of your hair behind your ear, and murmured a soft, “you got this, kid,” under your breath. 

You had spotted a girl dressed in a vivid daffodil colored sundress and you made a beeline straight towards her. Consumed by your sudden sense of purpose and thoughts of how she looked like a beacon of light in the cold murky waters that was the student body, you hadn’t noticed a certain tall basketball player was about to cross your path. 

With a small gasp of surprise you butted straight into his side, swaying backwards and tripping over your feet. A small groan of defeat left your lips as a small ache developed on the bridge of your nose. 

“Hey are you okay?” 

His voice was like deep, rich, smooth chocolate and laced with such genuine concern that it almost seemed to quell the dull twinge of pain on your face. Wanting to see if such an alluring voice had an equally alluring face you looked up and damn it did. 

You could feel your eyes involuntarily widening and the once leisure pace of your beating heart turn rapid. You swept over the gorgeous expanse of his face, committing the slope of his nose and the smooth flesh of his pout to memory in case you never had another chance to be at such close proximity to him. 

“Not trying to be rude, but i’m pretty sure we lost this staring contest a long time ago.” His words brought you back to reality and an uncontrollable blush coated your cheeks, you were sure he could feel the burning heat of them. 

“Actually you lost, i’ve been staring for how long?” Is all you could muster, trying to mask your embarrassment with humor. The beautiful stranger let out a small chuckle, a sound so lovely it brought a smile to your face.

“So long I think you broke a record just now,” he responds playing along. “The dudes from guinness world records should be here any minute now.” 

You pretend to look around the halls in search for them. “Good. They’re not here yet, I still have time to prepare my acceptance speech.” You both laugh at your comment and you can’t help the bubbling giddiness you feel from the silly exchange of words with him. “You’re funny, whats your name?” 

“Y/n.”

“Nice. I’m Zach.” You had never thought a name could be this hot until now. Wanting to prolong your time with him, get your stupid locker open, and get to at least one class without being late you asked, “Well Zach, besides helping me break world records would you mind helping me with the glorious task of opening my locker and taking me to the science hall? You will be rewarded generously.” 

His coffee brown eyes look off into the distance, pretending to ponder over your offer. “Lead the way.”

Your lips turn up in a content smile, walking over to your locker with a spring in your step. “My combination is 0-8-24.” 

You watch as his lithe fingers spin over the lock, opening it on the first time with a satisfying click. “There you go.”

You try not to gape at how quickly and simply he opened it, you had stood there before for a good 10 minutes without any luck. “I swear I know how to open lockers, this one just didn’t like me.” 

He smiles amused at how adorably your eyebrows furrowed, expressing your distaste at the rusty blue locker. “Well now that this is opened, whats my reward?”

He takes a flirtatious tone, insinuating that he has a certain something in mind. 

“Well that depends, what do you want?” Your words come out breathy as he steps closer to you. He laughs lightly at the sudden change in your tone, the once ringing voice now soft-spoken. 

“A date,” he responds in an indifferent tone that is more suited to say just buying some stuff or gonna go out for a walk. You raise your eyebrow at his request, faking your cool composure. 

“Take me to the science hall and submit a one page essay about why I should and I might just consider it.” 


hello! this is the first time i’ve ever put one of my works out there and i’d really appreciate any feedback anyone has :-) 

Secret Kink - Smut

Originally posted by obriengif

Author: @dumbass-stilinski and @celestial-writing
Rating: NSFW 18+
Pairing: Stiles Stilinski/Reader
Words: 3,510
AN: This is a collab between me and Madi aka @celestial-writing and I don’t know but I’m really proud of this! It’s pretty dirty, we got some daddy kink going on over here, but we really hope you like it! 


Also, this is a happy belated birthday to Stiles Stilinski! 



It was Stiles’ 18th birthday and the whole pack had come to celebrate. After the year you’d been having, it was nice to take a break and enjoy each other’s company instead of fighting whatever big bad had decided to wreak havoc on the tiny town of Beacon Hills.

You had a plan for the party for Stiles’ birthday, you had been planning this surprise for him for weeks and you knew he was going to enjoy it. Stiles never was a person that could keep secrets quiet when he was drunk, even his own.

Lydia was throwing her annual St. Patrick’s party, as usual the drinks were flowing heavily. Your boyfriend, Stiles, had clearly been taking advantage of the parties “amenities” when you found him by the bar.

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Excuses

A/N: This is a part II of Braids. Please please please read that first so you may understand the intimacy of their close friendship. I really hope you all like it - please send me your feedback here. Thank you, love you, and happy reading :)

Harry doesn’t remember the last time he felt this giddy.

He thinks it was the time you had finally agreed to see him perform, and he had found a bouquet of flowers in his dressing room with a small card that read “If you were a flower, you’d be a damndelion”. There was no signature on the card, but he immediately recognized your scribbled handwriting. He had worn a grin for the rest of the night, feeling utterly enamoured by your silent act of kindness, wondering how someone with that much heart fell into his crazy life.

Now that he was thinking about it, he had always been showered by your good nature. It was what had attracted him to you in the first place. Your gentle personality had the ability to touch others in a way that made them feel like the most important person on the earth. And now that Harry’s watched your kindness spread through the hearts of the ones he loved most, he promised himself to finally be honest with you … even if it meant crossing the blurred lines of your close friendship.  

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Promises || 02

Originally posted by notjhope

You learn more about the promises you made and the man you promised them to.

Series: 01 | 02

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Arranged Marriage!au

Word Count: 6.1k

A/n: Sections in italics are flashes from the past.


            Traitor of a Brother [4:39 am]: Jungkook, why isn’t Y/n picking up the phone? Can you tell her to call me please?

            Traitor of a Brother [4: 53 am]: Where the fuck did you take her? Why isn’t she in the cabin?

                        *Thirteen missed calls

            Traitor of a Brother [5:07 am] : It was bad enough for u to get into this mess, but now mix my wife into it as well? Is this some kind of petty revenge?

                        * Two missed calls

            Traitor of a Brother [5:13 am]: I swear to fucking god Jungkook if u fucking get her involved in any of ur shit I will strangle u myself

            Jungkook smirked down at his phone as you slept soundly in the seat beside him, your hands clutching the blanket around you even as the heater blew hot air into your face, relishing in all the warmth you could get. His eyes roamed the delicate features of your face as a familiar feeling filled his chest, one that was present every time he looked at you.

            He quickly texted a reply before turning off his phone and throwing it to Hoseok in the front seat, choosing to forget about Taehyung for the time being, more than a little happy that Taehyung had already caught on to what was happening.  

            Jungkook [5:15 am]: It’s a little too late for that, hyung.


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