i needed the set on my dash

Backstage Costume Crew Be Like

“I know my hand is like.. down your shirt but pls don’t think I’m groping you I just need to pin this piece of fabric okay tHANKs”

“No.. your hoop skirt isn’t.. HOLD ON IM SORRY IN ADVANCE-” /Fucking climbs under skirt to fix a crooked wire in the lining/ “THERE YOU GO”



/dashing to set up backstage quick changes/ “I imagine death so much it feels more like a memory”


/incoherent sobbing/


150+ followers gift❤️

Hi Everyone!

Okay… my first post vanished so once again… here I am. Sorry for floating your dash and the inconvenience! They’re a little overdue but here it is; a new pair of (MM) wedges for EVERYONE☺️. Thank you for all your kind words!❤️ It means a lot to me! I hope you guys enjoy them as much as I do! For more info/download, read further below.

I L-O-V-E wedges and needed wayyy more in my game! Made a versatile model so it can go with literally anything ;)  To show you guys how versatile they are I made a little ‘look-book’ so that you can see in how many different settings they can be used / I am using them. Meet Maore, Ava, and Noëlle! 1st screenshot from left to right.

Each palette comes in 3 different colors of platforms; Beige, Brown, and White.

  • 21 Neutrals / Pastels.
  • 33 Rainbow Colors.
  • 21 Patterns.

75 swatches total, divided over three items in CAS of course! or 1 MERGED file. Don’t combine the MERGED and separate files! I don’t use ad-fly.

Technical details:

  • Base Game Compatible.
  • All LOD’s. LOD 0 (highest resolution) 574 poly’s = close to standard EA value (for wedges).
  • Custom shadow/specular map.
  • Mesh-edit of EA’s Wedges so; credits to EA.
  • Made with Sims 4 Studio Harmony tested in both OS (Windows and Mac).

Terms of Use:

  • Don’t claim my creations as your own.
  • Do not (re)upload my creation to other sites. You wouldn’t like it either.
  • You can recolor my creation’s just DON’T include the mesh. If you like me to see your recolor’s @# me!☺️
  • Do NOT put a url shorters to re-direct to MY original mesh.
  • Give credit, where credit is due. 
  • I do not own/made patterns and/or textures UNLESS stated otherwise.
  • You can convert them to The Sims 1/ 2 / 3 but let me know first.

Download (SFS - No AdFly)

And last but not least…Enjoy! Let me know what ya think! ☺️ 

dragon age inquisition sentence starter

“ Bad things should happen to bad people. " 
” Rich tits always try for more than they deserve “
" Whatever the truth is, that belief gives you power. ”
“ Can’t you see why I want nothing to do with that life? ”
“ I have seen the throne of the gods, and it was empty. ”
“ I will not suffer even an unknowing rival. You must die! ”
“ Tell me… where is your Maker now? Call him, call down his wrath upon me! You cannot. For he does not exist! ”
“ Common ground is the start of all negotiations. ”
“ Though darkness closes, I am shielded by flame. ”
“ It spoke of judgement instead of acceptance. It should encourage the good in everyone, rather than rebuke us for our sins. No one should be turned away from our doors. No one is without worth. Whoever you are, whatever your mistakes, you are loved. Unconditionally. ”
“ If we’re going to change it, why not change the whole thing? ”
“ I’ve known mages. Some of them were better people than me. And yet I’m free and they’re not. It’s not right. ”
“ Sometimes you have to figure out for yourself what the pledge to protect others really means. ”
“ You are who you choose to follow. ”
“ Took me years to understand what he meant. ”
“ But wars are won by men. ”
“ You inspire them. ”
“ Build on that foundation, and you will have an army that makes nations tremble. ”
“ We all need to believe there are such men in the world. ”
“ I needed to believe I could be one of them. ”
“ We could make the world better. ”
“ It’s just easier to shut our eyes. ”
“ It’s not right… to want to do good, to be good, and have that turned against you. ”
“ At this moment, you are the only threat I see. ”
“ How seldom does reality match the ideal. ”
“ We must do so with open hearts and open hands. ”
“ I see what must be done, and I do it! I see no point in running around in circles like a dog chasing its tail. ”
“ At some point, power becomes its own master. ”
“ They will stand in the fire and complain that it is hot. " 
" I want to help. ”
“ I used to be like you. I’m not anymore. You shouldn’t be either. ”
“ They forgot about him. ”
“ I came through to help… and I couldn’t. ”
“ Isn’t it wonderful? ”
“ Living a lie… it festers inside you, like poison. You have to fight for what’s in your heart. ”
“ It’s my duty to stand with you. ”
“ I’m here to set things right. Also? To look dashing. That part’s less difficult. ”
“ We’re a lot more fragile than we’d like to believe. ”
“ Life isn’t about personal freedom. ”
“ People don’t always tell the truth when you’re polite. ”
“ We pick the ones willing to make the hard decisions… and live with the consequences. ”
“ Every great war has its heroes. I’m just curious what kind you’ll be. ”
“ No real god need prove himself. Anyone who tries is mad or lying. ”
“ I would not trade it for anything. ”
“ I hope there’s a damn good punchline coming. ”
“ The truly great ones can keep their distance. They don’t get attached to their people. ”
“ I always wind up babysitting my informants and worrying about their families. ”
“  Heroes are everywhere. I’ve seen that.”
“ That’s beyond heroes. We’re going to need a miracle. ”
“ For those who value survival, sentimentality is not an option. ”
“ I’m never truly out of my element. ”

lenahluthor  asked:

hi, i'm @sapphicships and you recently reblogged an edit i made of feyre and mor. since in the tags u thought it was a "friendship" (despite my blog being for f/f pairings and the post exclusively saying "f/f pairing"), i'd like to say, i definitely did not make that edit and ship name for them to be platonic buddies. it'd be fine, but i then saw that u ship moriel, and please never interact with my blog again. that is disgusting—mor is a lesbian and thinks of azriel AS FAMILY. thank you.

Wow I’m really sorry! I honestly didn’t notice it was a f/f post. My tag was just an innocent mistake and I honestly didn’t mean any offense.


Making History | 1.07

Adams and Hancock make an entrance.

anonymous asked:

After seeing gifs of Martin Freeman pass through my dash I discovered that the thing I love most about him is the way he smiles when he makes someone else laugh. You can tell he really enjoys making other people happy. My favorite gifs are the one where the reporter started laughing after he said "where is my latte" and the one where he's on set with Ben I think during series 3 and Martin stepped up onto the stoop of 221b and Ben started laughing

ASDFASD Nonny what a wholesome post! :D I need people to attach these said gifs to this post, because I did not save them on my hard drive! For now, have this one! This is one of my favourites, because it looked like he was comforting Ben beforehand, and then Ben said something that made Martin smile:

But yes, Martin does have a charming and lovely smile!! 

Much soft! :D

@yorkiepug I feel you can add to this discussion better than me :D

Okay, I needed to write something about kilt-wearing Jug because seriously how hot was that boy while pulling a Jamie Fraser? Very hot, I know. So, yeah, here you go, Scottish sexytimes! Also, my bae Anna aka @jugandbettsdetectiveagency has already written an incredibly steamy one-shot regarding Jug’s hotness in a kilt and Betty’s thirst for him so be sure to go check that out too, if you haven’t already! And, you know, keep a fan nearby. ;)

A/N: I kept the kilt sextimes theme but I didn’t really follow the making-up request because I was in the mood of a more fun, angst-free idea. I hope both of you still like my take on your prompts, darlings! Also, this is set in the future. Enjoy! ❤️


Scot and Bothered

A kilt.

A traditional, all plaid Scottish kilt.

Jughead Jones wearing said kilt.

Jughead Jones wearing said kilt while poun—

“I think I need a drink!”

Betty exclaims way chirpier than necessary, plastering an also way too dashing and way too fake smile on her petal pink lips, hoping that her inappropriate thoughts aren’t as crystal clear obvious as the blushing color that she’s sure is creeping on her highlighted cheekbones.  At her side, her mother raises a confused eyebrow, slightly reprimanding her daughter for indulging in alcohol that early in the evening, but Betty is way too flustered to even care about Alice Cooper’s anachronistic ladylike manners right at that moment.

“The bride and groom aren’t even here yet, Elizabeth.” With the corner of her eyes, the aforementioned Cooper can see Polly sporting an amused frown at their mother’s tone and her sister’s sudden hyperactivity.

“Well, I’m thirsty.” Not necessarily a lie, but then again this feeling low in her abdomen isn’t associated with the basic human need. “And this is a four-thousand-dollar Moet exclusively delivered in Riverdale for this day only; I wanna see what the fuss is all about.” Using Veronica’s excessive taste as an excuse, the blonde’s eyes land on Jughead once again, the words dying on her lips and she fears she is actually drooling, bringing a hand to the corner of her mouth just to be safe that nothing embarrassing is going to award her with the title of Horniest Maid of Honor anytime soon. She camouflages the action by pretending to check for any hints of smudged lipstick.

“It’s amazing, Betty.” Polly’s half-groan invades her hazy mind. “The cute bartender treated me a glass earlier and it was indeed the best drink I ever had.”

“Polly!” Alice scoffs incredulously, not happy about her daughters’ tendencies to, what in her mind she exaggerates to be, alcoholism.

“What, mom?” She shoots her an impish grin. “I’m a thirty-tree-year-old single mother that works way too much for her own good, in a wedding full of other single men that seem to be straight out of a high-nudity HBO show. Alcohol is the only thing that can help me keep my hands to myself.” Her eyes land on one of Archie’s second cousins, practically scanning him from head to toe before continuing naughtily. “Or not.” She shrugs with a wink towards them.

Alice Cooper gasps in horror, Polly giggles and Betty finds the perfect opportunity to excuse herself silently from the bantering duo.

Any other time she would have stayed to relish in the feeling of this mother-daughter easy going relationship the three of them had built from scratch over the last couple of years, offering Polly a helping hand at teasing their not so uptight anymore mother. But right now she really needs that drink and she really needs Jughead.

Yeah, she definitely does.

A penguin-dressed waiter passes her by and Betty stops him with a sweet smile, snatching a flute of champagne from his full tray, barely uttering a thank you, before plopping down on her prescribed seat on the still empty head table at the top center of the beautiful venue. The dusking sun along with a plethora of elegant white candle arrangements are illuminating prettily the Lodge’s lush green property at the outskirts of Riverdale that is decorated to perfection with the colors of pristine white and wealthy gold for the special occasion. It is truly a dreamy sight but Betty can’t really focus on anything else but the dark haired man that she calls her other half.

She knows that he is handsome; since day one, even when he didn’t believe in himself or even when nobody else did for that matter, Betty was aware that he was indeed a catch. After all those years together she also knows that he is the handsomest in dark blue or burgundy, or in the black tux (paired with a bowtie and suspenders and all) he wore on their wedding or bare-chested and only in his ratty old sweatpants or when he falls asleep next to her, weightless and sated and happy with an arm always securing her to his side.  

Yet, nothing had ever warned her for this level of hotness.

The severe blood ties of the Andrews’ family with Scotland may not come as a shock regarding the Gaelic derived surname and its members’ more than obvious trade of fiery hair but the Southern in their blood is not something they regularly advertised. So when Veronica and Archie announced, via one of their numerous wedding planning related Skype calls, to the couple consisting of her maid of honor and his best man that they had decided on a Scottish themed wedding, meaning traditional Scottish dress for any man present, Jughead all but flew out of one of their Boston apartment wide windows. He was adamant in his refusal to compromise his aesthetic for anything as surreal as him in a skirt – his words, not hers – but between his brotherly instincts towards Archie, Veronica’s insufferable pestering and Betty’s long, promising list of sex favors he finally caved. And, right now, his wife couldn’t be more in debt to her two best friends about that decision.

They arrived two weeks prior in Riverdale to help with the preparations but Betty never got the chance to see her husband in the characteristic tartan, since all the necessary fitting sessions were taking place at the Andrews’ household – Mary and Nana Andrews being the only experts that could work around the thick fabric – whereas at the same time she was needed at Pembrooke, trying dresses with the rest of the bridesmaids. And when the big day came, as per tradition, they got ready with their respective wedding parties, leaving Betty with a kaleidoscope of butterflies fluttering anxiously low in her stomach in anticipation for the big reveal.

Betty is sure that the state of aching arousal she was experiencing throughout the entire wedding ceremony has totally granted her a VIP front-row seat in hell.

But really she can’t help herself. Looking at him now, the center piece of her view, with a beer bottle at hand, casually chatting with Fred and two other men from the Andrews’ side of the family, she can’t think about anything else but him having her in any and all positions he desires while his lean physic is adorned with that symbol of raw masculinity. His jacket is now discarded and abandoned along with her bouquet on the seat next to her, leaving him in just a nicely formfitting button-up that stretches deliciously over his biceps with every swing he takes of his beer and a dark blue vest that hugs his hard chest perfectly, making him look elegant and very well-groomed. She can see his lean legs, strong and manly, his firm butt stretching the tartan, his loose, utterly charming grin, his slick raven hair styled in well-behaved waves – by the hairdresser Veronica had hired for the boys because, yes, she wouldn’t accept any scruffy appearances in her country chic wedding – and free from his beanie, the item not in his essential wardrobe anymore since Betty is the security blanket he ever wished and wanted, and she can hardly control her hormones at this point, the head-over-heels in love woman in her screaming to go get her man.

The bubbly drink in her hand disappears down her throat in one swift, buttons-up movement and she sets the expensive flute down with determination, before storming off towards him, a sea of blue swinging urgently but elegantly around her golden sandals. Jughead’s whole face lightens up with a wide smile as long as he notices his ethereal angel walking over to him.

“Sorry, gentlemen, but I really need to steal my husband for a moment.” Polite as always, Betty casts her best good girl smile at the older men, who of course immediately fall for her charm and reciprocate it. Jughead curls proudly an arm around her waist as she leans to his side, sending him a loving look.

“All yours.” Fred raises his arms, giving permission with his typical kind smile, a tad more elated due to the day. “He’s not that good of a company to begin with.” He jokes good-heartedly, earning cheerful laughs from everyone around and a fake offended eye roll from the man that he considers his second son, while the couple takes some steps away from the small group.

“Everything alright, love?” Jughead wonders what type of emergency needs his assistance, lightly caressing her hip in affection.

Betty shushes him with a chaste but fierce kiss that takes him a tad off guard, feeling her snatch the beer bottle from his hands to abandon it somewhere before taking hold of one of them to drag him behind her. “Just, come with me.” Her words are hushed and they hide some kind of desperation that Jughead struggles to comprehend as of why and he is about to question what’s going on in panic only to be guided behind the big stage that is set at the other end of the large property of land, where a popular indie band – that Jughead has never heard before but apparently they are pretty big and very good friends with the groom – and probably Archie at some point in the night are going to perform. As of now, a DJ straight from New York is entertaining the guests and Jughead is utterly confused about why Betty and he of all people are needed backstage.

When his back collides with the black soundproofing wall and his wife is kissing him in frenzy he is definitely not confused anymore.

Elizabeth Cooper Jones, what are you doing?” He gasps in mock scandal but with a surprised smirk on his face, upon pulling back for air. She ignores him and his tone, her hands roaming all over his torso in need and her lips trailing light teasing kisses on his neck, feeling a faint groan vibrate against her lips that makes her smile. “This is a public place, there’s a wedding venue full of people literally meters away and” he uses her shoulders to push her back to look at him, a mischievous glint in his baby blue eyes as he continues in an incredulous whisper “your son is out there.” The five-year-old mini version of him, also dressed in the traditional dress every man is sporting today, left the side of his beloved dad in search for his cousins minutes before Betty had stormed over to abduct him, Jughead being a tad wary to be doing what he assumes his blonde tempress wants them to be doing in a place where the little menace can easily walk in on them while running around.

Betty brings him for another passionate kiss while her hands fist his vest against his hard pecs, her female, more rational and calm nature not getting easily intimidated like him. “It’s a secluded area, everyone is too wrapped up in the champagne that’s going around to notice us gone and our son is playing treasure hunt with Reggie.” She crosses his concerns out one by one, her whole body rubbing deliciously against his, Jughead gripping her hips for dear life as she leaves open-mouthed kisses at his jawline.

“I knew my kid would end up weird.” He murmurs as he looks stoically to the side and sighing, half in comic self-doubt about his parenting and half in arousal that is now creeping in full force because of his wife’s treatment.

“Well, after his growing crush on Cheryl of all people, I think Reggie is the least of our worries.” She replies nonchalantly against his lips, hands cradling his cheeks. “Now, kiss me.” He doesn’t need to be told twice, his lips crash on hers in lightning speed and she whimpers at the taste of beer and true authentic Jughead Jones flavor in her hungry mouth.

“Seriously, Betts, what’s gotten into you?” his words dance in a murmur against her parted lips as they change the angle of their kiss, their bodies pushing and pulling in an intensely compelling manor that has her dizzy and more than ready for him.

“Have you looked yourself in the mirror?” Betty groans in frustration, tugging at his down lip and causing him to buck up against her, following her sinful mouth even if it is barely an inch away from his. She utters her next words in a desperate sigh, slender fingers nesting in his raven locks, as she feels the tale tail heaviness of his hard-on against her stomach. “You’re hot, Jughead Jones, you are my husband and right now I can’t concentrate on anything else but how damn sexy you are, baby.” She moans faintly before kissing him again, bruising and demanding, the flat of her tongue delivering a lewd caress against his that has him groaning and attacking her with more force, his hands on her hips becoming fists and painfully grasping blue silk and tantalizing curves.

The kiss is dirty, full of teeth and tongues and wet sounds and right at this moment she is neither the loving mother of his child nor his superwoman wife. She is the sensuous mistress he always got to have in his bed and that is driving him insane.

But Jughead Jones is a man of control and just like that the tables are turned, Betty’s lungs being left without any ounce of air as she’s now the one trapped between the wall and his hot body.

“Jesus, love, is this about the kilt?” he hisses, pulling back to take her in, swollen, lipstick-free lips, crimson cheeks, eyes deep meadow green from wanton lust. What wins his attention at the end is the up and down movement of her breasts as she pants heavily, silently begging for more.

“It’s about everything that’s under that kilt.” His blonde angel muses in a sultry whisper, circling her center against his growing erection, the action forcing him to chew on his down lip in agony and look up at her with a deep manly sigh. “And under that shirt and inside that beautiful mind and about your hair that is killing me today” she groans around the word for emphasis, throwing her head back before grabbing his chin, manicured nails clawing his clean shaved jawline “and that grin that should definitely be illegal.” Jughead gives her the boyish grin she adores, a tad flattered and a lot turned on by her behavior, Betty leaning up to chastely kiss his grin away. “The Highlander array is just a bonus; a very dirty, fantasy-coming-to-life bonus.” Her eyes are roaming over his body, insatiable and predatory, and she has to have him now, she needs to, or else she will explode in a million tiny pieces because of how much she wants him.

“After fifteen years of being together you never cease to surprise me, Betty Cooper.” Jughead sighs in utter love and devotion, cradling her cheeks, ready for a deep kiss. “God, I love you.” He groans and then there is silence.

Their urgent lips move together in-sync, tongues sliding sexily over one another in a dizzy rhythm, mouths opening wide to fit perfectly together and ravish each other. He is sucking on her bottom lip, biting it, soothing it with sensual swipes of his tongue and she is gasping, yeaning to finally have him inside her, his sinful lips making her wetter by the minute, as she keeps bucking her hips against his in frenzy. Betty gives his tongue a wet and filthy suck, twirling the tip of her own tongue against its tip and Jughead’s cock recognizes the action from all the times she is on her knees or bent over him with her glorious ass in the air, the now painfully erect member twitching between them and making them both moan heavily inside each other’s mouth. A forceful squeeze is delivered against her ass, his fingers digging on the round flesh with vigor and Betty’s teeth graze the inside of his lower lip as her nails scratch his scalp, causing him to growl low in his chest and slap the already irritated skin of her behind.

Their lips disconnect as she moans in bliss, biting her lip to block the sound, Jughead letting a dark chuckle as he goes to unbutton his vest in a hurry.

“No, no, no, don’t unbutton anything, don’t take anything off.” His wife stops him instantly, her soft hands shooting to grab his wrists as he looks at her perplexed with raised eyebrows. “I want you like that, so dapper and gentlemanly handsome, while you fuck me hard and fast like you only know how.” She explains in a dirty whisper, the tip of her tongue curling upwards while swiping sensually across the center of his lips, Jughead pinning her hips to the wall almost painfully.

His lips curl in a wicked smirk. “You want your typical rough treatment, baby girl, don’t you?” he teases her with his hoarse, sex voice and pupils dilated and pitch black because of how much and how rough he wants her. “Hold your dress up for me.” He orders as he braces her against the wall, curling a hand at the back of her knee and hitching her slender leg over his hip. Betty grins flirtatiously, a faux innocent look on her pretty eyes, as she slides her dress up and stops when the hem is barely covering the heat between her thighs.

Jughead curses under his breath; not only does he has the perfect view of her long legs there is also not a single hint of lace. “God, no panties?” his head snaps up to look at her in pleasant surprise, the intensity in his graze making her even weaker in the knees. “Are you trying to kill me, Mrs. Jones?” a teasing smirk plays on his lips, his forehead dropping against hers as his large palm roams from the back of her thigh to the now bare skin of her ass.

“If you haven’t notice this dress is way too formfitting and tight…” Betty shrugs in fake naivety and he would have believed that her intentions were pure if, one, he didn’t know her at all, and two, if her fingers weren’t tugging at the waistband of his kilt, dangerously close to his threatening to explode erection.

“Oh, I’ve noticed.” He breathes against her slightly agape lips. “Trust me, I sure as hell did.” The blue floor-length gown not only complimented her natural beauty but it fitted her like a glove, hugging her curves in a way that had his mouth run dry from the first moment he saw her earlier that evening, not able to stop himself from ogling her during the entire ceremony. This was the first time Jughead felt grateful to Veronica Lodge.

“Too bad that you didn’t feel the need to honor the tradition of no undergarments under a kilt.” Betty pouts in actual disappointment, licking her lips as her eyes flick momentarily at the place that rests against her open legs.

“Flashing the whole town of Riverdale and half the population of New York was not in my evening plans.” Her husband states in his usual sardonic manner, before continuing impishly. “Plus, I didn’t want to force Archie into a serious case of inferiority complex on his wedding night.” The joke holds some male pride but the humor falls short when Betty’s hand drops to grip his long member while she breathes a short giggle.

“Yeah, that you’d definitely do.” Her filthy whisper mingles with his shaky pants as she palms him heavily over the woolen material of the kilt, his hips circling against her tiny hand while he slightly roars and dives for her neck. He is careful not to leave a mark so he just leaves wet trails and goosebumps caused by his hot breath against her skin, an arm curling around her waist to hold her flat against him and the fingers of his free hand sneaking between them. He finds her ridiculously soaked and his teeth close involuntarily around the neckline of her dress against her collarbone, both moaning at the sensation.

“Fuck, babe, you’re dripping.” Jughead looks down with a low groan as he notices even the inside of her thighs glistering with need, watching two of his long fingers slide effortlessly inside her knuckle-deep, stretching her good and proper. She melts against his body and drops her head back with a high-pitch sigh, her hips rising up to meet the push and pull of his fingers, desperate to ease her dark desire.

Betty grabs his wrist and looks at him with hooked eyes. “Inside me. Get inside me.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. His fingers slip out of her burning heat, waist arching in a perfect bow at the loss of contact, before they get buried again but this time inside the wet abyss of her mouth. Betty groans at the sudden and filthy invasion and Jughead does too in a sexual haze as he feels her nibble and suck and bite his skin until there is not a single drop of her feminine essence on them. She frees them with a wet pop that causes his already foggy mind to short-circuit before his lips attack hers, Jughead tasting the salty flavor of her arousal on her tongue, a naughty sensation that always has him yearning to pound into her raw and rough until she isn’t able to walk straight.

Together they work on getting rid of his boxers all the while practically eating each other out passionately, his black underwear finally sliding down his legs to pool on his polished shoes in careless abandon. Betty pushes the offending material of his kilt against his flexing abs in a hurry and when his iron hard cock lands with a delicious tap against her sensitive clit they both lose it, her gasping loudly and him grunting inside their heated kiss.

He slides into her all the way with a hard trust, the delicious fullness of his hard member making her legs shiver and her mouth open in a shocked soundless moan. She is soaking wet and burning hot and Jughead feels his own knees buck at the sensation as he begins thrusting inside her, curt and intense, drawing out of her lips filthy moans and erotic sighs. One of her hands sneaks behind him and grips his ass, fingers digging on the tartan material to urge him forward faster, deeper, each time buried to the hilt and grazing that sweet spot that he always finds expertly and makes her lose any sense of sanity.

“More, Juggie, please. Fuck me harder.” She is a whimpering mess as she withers against him, her eyebrows knitted together in pleasure and her lips open wide, and of course he can’t resist her, he grabs her hips for leverage and he starts pounding into her forcefully and wild, licking the droplets of sweat that run down the front of her neck while groaning at how tight she is around his throbbing cock.

“You like that, baby girl, huh?” he wants to bite her, mark her, litter her with bloody red love bites and his teeth graze her pulse point, her tiny muscles sucking him inside her as a reflex, causing him to utter a sinful fuck against her skin. His calloused hand slides at the other side of her neck and then sneaks at the back of it, undoing the knot that holds her pretty dress and yanking the neckline down, her right breast escaping the silk prison with a mouthwatering jiggle. “Shit, baby, you are so sexy.” Jughead spats coarsely, voice deep and raspy from the sexual haze he is in. His thump moves to toy with the exposed and perky nipple, rubbing tightly and then pitching the sensitive nerve-ending, and Betty’s leg that is still on the ground holding her weight gives out as she moans loudly, Jughead wrapping their lips in a wet kiss to shush her.

With his nails digging at the back of her other thigh, he urges both her legs to wrap around his waist, her holding him captive inside her hotness and him effortlessly holding her up against the wall. He claims her lips once again and they both moan in unison as his cock finds a new angle inside her, rubbing whatever it is that makes her long legs shivering violently and her head a mess of foggy clouds.

“You’re taking me so deep, Betts; you’re always so fucking good to me.” He continues with the dirty talk they both overly enjoy, burning her inside and out and quickening his now forceful thrusts, Betty biting her lip hard enough to draw blood, knowing all too well how vocal she always is and certainly not wanting to cause a scene.

“Right there, please…” she whines, eyes closed and frown in tack, her lips opening in a silent large O, as her head is thrown back and her golden locks cascade down her waist. “A little bit more…” Her nails are clawing the soft material of his pristine white shirt on his biceps, the flexing of his strong muscles as he holds her up tightening the knot low in her abdomen. His thick member feels heavenly inside her, her clit is brushing teasingly against his adbomen and the itchy material of the plaid kilt is offering a weird but all together incredible sensation against the soft skin of her thighs, leaving her minutes away from seeing every star and every planet behind her shut eyelids.

Betty orders herself to look at him; he is leaning against her tall and trim, only slightly disheveled and with that Scottish attire intact, looking like the definition of a gentleman but fucking her like an animalistic caveman. Every on point thrust of his hips, every flick of his thump against her hard nipple, every hoarse moan and every deep pant appears to be effortless, calculated to bring her immense pleasure, like he is a natural at fucking her brains out and, damn straight, he is and Betty can feel the upcoming high of her climax right through her bones. The long moan that escapes her next can make any porn star feel self-conscious.

Jughead’s grunt is nearly painful. “Come on, do it, squeeze the fuck out of me.” His forehead drops on her chin and he looks down to where they are connected, his legs buckling at the image of his hard cock glistering with how wet he makes her as it disappears in and out of her in a rapacious manner. His thump comes to rub her clit with no mercy, Betty anchoring herself from his shoulder blades with a low erotic sigh, her toes curling and her body stiffening as he is getting her right on the edge.

“Come. Come hard around me, baby.” He murmurs on her neck before biting hard on her jawline and giving her one harder thrust, his wife shaking to oblivion as her orgasm crashes violently, her back arching right to his face and her hips spasming again and again from all the high he is offering her. A long deep moan of his name escapes her and Jughead clasps a hand against her mouth to block the sound, feeling his own self tiptoeing on the edge when she bites on the inside of his middle finger, her sultry muffled sounds turning all his blood into a fountain of lust.

Betty can feel him twitching inside her through her own waves of pleasure and his thrusts getting demanding and sloppy as his heavy breaths quicken and deepen, a sign she came to recognize many years ago as his upcoming undoing.

“Do it, Juggie.” she leans to whisper against his ear, still spasming from the aftershocks of her intense orgasm, her muscles tight as a vice around his pulsing cock, coaxing his release. “Come and let me feel you inside me.” And that’s all it takes for him to comply, her warm wetness, her filthy words and her erotic sighs, his release erupting in full force as he stills inside of her, his fingers bruising her hips and his mouth leaving deep manly grunts against the hollow of her collarbone.

They take some minutes to slow down their heartbeats and relish in the feeling of this blissful aching, Jughead pulling back from her neck once his breathing is close to normal to offer her a sated lopsided smile before kissing her lazily but sensual, once she reciprocates it with a lightheaded slime of her own. He reluctantly pulls out of her, both complaining at the loss of skin to skin contact inside their slow make out that ends after a while with some loving pecks. With a satisfied sigh Jughead reaches down where Betty’s beige and gold clutch is abandoned, retrieving some tissues to clean the both of them, not even trying to hide the proud smirk that still curls on his lips every time at the evidence of him against her glistering center, this time that smirk being intensified by the sight of redness at the inside of her creamy thighs due to the rough material of his kilt. They smile at each other in a knowing manner and then he lowers her to the ground, helping her with securing the knot that holds her neckline of her dress up behind her neck while she fixes the rest of her appearance.

Jughead is moments away from sliding his boxers up his legs but she is faster than him, yanking them off his legs, almost making him trip on his own feet. When he sees her twirling the material around her pointer in a teasing manner, he raises an eyebrow at her.

“I’m keeping those.” Betty informs him cockily, folding his underwear hastily and shoving it into her clutch. Jughead goes to object, terrified about the possibility of him walking around in a crowded venue with nothing securing his manhood, but she curls her arms around his neck, brushing her lips against his. “The night is still young, dear husband; and this was only a small preview.” Her tone is sexy and full of promises, her hand sneaking down to cheekily squeeze his butt while winking at him, and Jughead reluctantly smirks intrigued down at her as a shiver runs down his spine, the little minx leaving a sugary sweet kiss against his slight parted mouth.

She turns to leave just as a loud commotion starts echoing amongst the crowd at the wedding reception. He watches her go, the clicking of her heels tantalizing him just as much as the extra sway on her hips, his beautiful wife patting the side of her head to smooth any wild locks ruining her hairstyle and betraying their naughty shenanigans, throwing him an authentic Betty Cooper smile over her shoulder, the smile he fell in love with when he was five and he didn’t quite know that his life would turn out to be so brilliant.

He smiles back, boyish and youthful, a single thought creeping around his still disorientated mind.

“God, my wife is hot.”

Looking for blogs to follow!

My dash is totally dead and I just had to unfollow like 500 inactive blogs so, if you or your friends post any of the following, please like this post and I’ll check your blog out!
No need to follow back

Would particularly like to follow more funny blogs lol

Sailor Moon
Legend of Zelda
Animal Crossing
Anything Nintendo related
anything funny tbh
cats (!!!)
Japan (aesthetic, photography)
anime in general
Jet Set Radio (!!!)
FLCL (!!!)
anything cute!

Thanks again, just like this post, or reblog it if you’d like your followers to see!


I was thinking the same thing when I made this set, but it was 2 a.m. and I was deliriously tired at the time, so it was more like:
Would they have rolled down cartoon style, with boinky sound effects and cursing?
Or would they have just tumbled down silently, only for it to have ended with… *dramatic silence* “Clumsy, just like your father.” Aah, I can hear Alan Rickman’s voice in my head now… 

The Countdown

Taehyung googles his symptoms and convinces himself he’s got a week to live, Yoongi’s coerced into helping write his will, and you’re just trying not to go insane.

a belated birthday present for the wonderful amazingly perfect @taesthetes !!! it’s three days late, unfortunately. See end for full list of disclaimers and notes.

6.7k words, fluff + comedy, taehyung/reader, normalverse

It begins with a cough.

A singular cough, insubstantial to the larger picture. Taehyung ignores it. That is, until suddenly his chest and throat seize and he feels this strange pressure and irresistible scratchy feeling that results in a whole slew of coughing and hacking.

With a grunt he slumps into his chair and immediately fumbles for his phone. The coughing’s stopped now, but the feeling of impending doom has yet to go away. As do the slightly woozy, borderline-feverish feeling and the sniffling of his nose.

Quickly, before he can possibly drop dead, he dials the number of the one person he can trust in times like these:

Keep reading

Again I’m sorry I just can’t control myself.

A fancy club/event night sort of AU I guess…? Or even not really story-needed. *blush*


Originally posted by xattackxattackx

Originally posted by supernatural-addiction-hotline

Request: From @thefaultinourpies -Okay, so the reader is the brothers little sister and she calls them panicking after her boyfriend hits her at a party or a bar or something and Dean and Sam rush over there and yeah, that’s all I got.

Pairings: OC X Reader; Sister!Reader X Winchesters

Warnings: Language. Abuse. Violence. Loving Brothers.

Authors Note: I may do a part 2 to this if you guys would like one.

Keep reading

I Need People To Follow

My dash is dying! I need more things to follow. Reblog this if you post about this stuff, and I’ll follow your account!

Yuri On Ice


Kagerou Project




Writing Prompts

Writing blogs



Mad Father

Witch House

Yandere Simulator 

Animal Crossing 


Melanie Martinez 


Steven Universe

Adventure Time

Star vs FOE

Gravity Falls

Panic! At The Disco

RuPaul’s Drag Race


Aesthetic stuff


Animals and cute things

Literally anything I should get into


First of all…there are 150 of you lovely people participating this year! :D Thank you in advance for making this holiday season a little brighter! 

PLEASE keep reading below! And please share to maximize the number of people this gets to!

1) Many of you have already reached out to me for your secret santa assignments - if you haven’t yet, please contact me for yours! If I don’t hear from you, I will look for you, I will find you, and I will send you your match anyways. You’ve committed, there’s no escaping now…(kidding, see #2 below).

2) If you have signed up, but would no longer like to be a part of this event or cannot for any reason, that’s 100% okay - please just let me know so that I can re-assign your Clexakru member to someone else so they’re not left out!

3) Please remember to open your ask box to receive anonymous messages so that your secret santa can contact you! If you’re sending a message, don’t forget to click anonymous!

4) Tip: Feeling confined by the character limits of asks? IF (and only if) your person has their blog set up to receive them and if they are okay with this (please ask them first), you can submit anonymous posts (so photos, videos, gif sets, lengthy messages, etc.). To do this, log out of your account, go to their page and click “submit”. Instead of your URL at the top right in the submission box, there should be an option to fill out a name and email. Put “your secret santa” or something like that in the name field and for the “email” field, make up an email - (i.e., “anonymous@gmail.com” or “secretsanta@gmail.com”). Fill out your submission, and hit submit!

5) Tip: I have seen some people creating separate accounts so that they don’t accidentally forget to click “anonymous” when sending asks - this is totally NOT mandatory (and pretty extra but I love it)- but I figured I would share if anyone is interested in doing this (or if you’re super paranoid about forgetting to hit anon like I would be). If you do this, you can also submit posts to your person right from this “secret” account.

6) Interested in seeing what others are sending/receiving from their secret santas? If you would like to share some (or all) of the asks and posts you receive from your secret santa with the rest of Clexakru, please tag your posts with “clexa ss 2017″ (The Castle fandom is already using “css2017″ so don’t use that one!) If you are interested in reading the messages people are receiving, follow this tag!  If you are not involved in (and hate) this event and are sick of it clogging up your dash, I would suggest blacklisting these tags, as well as “clexa secret santa 2017” or similar tags.

7) If any of you need help contacting your secret santa assignment, setting up your ask boxes, learning how to send anonymous messages, or if you have any questions about anything else, please don’t hesitate to reach out to me - my ask box and messages are always open :)

anonymous asked:

Hi Sam! I'm curious about your magical time management skills: you have a full-time job, are super active in fandom, answer countless asks, write fanfiction and books, and still have time for jogging and many other stuffs. How do you organize yourself? I feel super overwhelmed due to lack of time and end up not doing what I want do. Do you allot time to do stuff? How does your typical day looks like? And any useful tips for us slackers.

I dunno how helpful it’ll be – I mean, some of it is time management, and some of it is that I have spent a long time working on arranging my life so that I have as much free time to pursue my own interests as possible. This hasn’t consciously meant giving up things like close brickspace friends and romantic relationships but in some ways it has kind of worked out that way. (Not that I couldn’t have those things if I chose to work towards them, in other words, but they don’t come naturally to me and I don’t mind the lack.) 

So, I will give you a rundown of my average day, but before we begin, I will also give you some context! And this will be long so I’ll put it under a readmore. 

Keep reading

i’m about to have a bit of a busy period in real life - but while i might be a little less present for the next two months, i’ll definitely still be around to fill up my queue and check in! but, my dash has been a little quiet at the moment, and i’m in the (slow) process of setting up a new aesthetic sideblog so i’m looking for some new blogs to follow! please like/reblog this is you post (about):

  • aesthetic
  • harry potter
  • film
  • studio ghibli
  • mythology & history
  • literature (austen, tsh, night circus, tog, trc, soc+ more)
  • poetry
  • tv (twin peaks, x files, friends + more)