letting-go-of-normal

miraculous au? young figure skating prodigy viktor nikiforov has always been homeschooled by his coach, until he manages to convince him to let him go to a normal college… and somehow ends up a superhero

Still in Love

Hi! Hope you’ll enjoy this short one shot. It’s a request based on the song “Somebody that I used to know” by Gotye. It’s only loosely inspired by it though, the song is despite its lyrics rather upbeat while I imagine this story to be set in a sadder atmosphere. 

Plot: H and Y/N used to have a bond until they cut each other out of their lives.

Warnings: None.

Gorgeous picture isn’t mine.

Harry found himself unable to look away. All his eyes could see was me, just as if my frame was the magnet to his attention. It was as though I wasn’t surrounded by a mass of people in a barely lit room and thick, humid air. His gaze was only drawn to me because to him I was illuminated. The air around me glowed. I might as well have stood in an empty room or lain in his bed, his attention couldn’t have been on me any more.

Harry’s jaw tensed. The sweet taste of the soft-drink on his tongue and the loud music blasted through the big speakers would normally have his shoulders relaxed and his body moving along to the rhythm. He would be enjoying his night out with friends and colleagues. But this time he couldn’t.
If anything Harry hadn’t ever been this tense whilst partying before. The tips of his fingers twitched, his lips were raw from his teeth pulling and biting into them and his hair was a mess.

All of which he truly could not understand.
How was Harry’s mind so incapable of finding an escape from the worry and slight fear his body was tormented with? Ever since he’d noticed me singing along to the music and laughing with my head thrown back and dancing in the middle of the floor, his blood had turned to ice and his skin heated.
His eyes followed the movements of my hips swinging, feet jumping and arms raising. The tip of his tongue pressed against his teeth when he noticed my exposed neck and collarbones and his skin prickled.
Harry’s stomach turned with guilt because he really shouldn’t be giving me that kind of attention. I wasn’t his after all. Not even as a friend. Nothing.

Still, if only to make sure I was fine, his pupils continued to follow my every move and they narrowed when he noticed me stumble a little, losing my balance momentarily. It seemed as though I’d had one if not many drinks too much. He moved to get up and come to my aid before his head had even caught up with it to consciously make that decision and before it could tell him not to move.
Harry didn’t know me. Not anymore, for the matter and it was no longer his job to come to my protection either.

And still, his hands reached out to carefully nudge people out of his way and his big feet moved quickly and steady in order to reach me faster. Harry was impatient and he couldn’t have said why.
One of his friends even made the effort to call after him, truly surprised at his sudden movements, but went silent the moment he noticed who it was Harry’s gaze had found. He knew Harry hadn’t heard him, knew there was no reaching him where his head had gone.

There had once been a time when Harry and I would lose ourselves in the other. When the whole room could feel our connection as though an electric energy was caused by it. The house could have erupted into flames, the room flooded by water or the earth broken open - we wouldn’t have noticed. Not when our fingers touched the others skin, if only momentarily. We would have eyes only for the other, words meant for no one else to hear and in truth Harry missed it as much as I longed for those times to come back.

I turned around when I heard him say my name for the first time in over a year. My blood was frozen, my skin light on fire and my heart flattered in my chest as if it tried to fly away. In my hurry and desperation to see him I lost my balance once more and stumbled into his chest rather forcefully. My stomach dropped at the sight of his beautiful features and a smile forced itself onto my lips.

Harry. He visibly hadn’t changed at all and lost nothing of his beauty.

“Harry.” My voice was shaking but fierce, with no doubt in its tone at all.

He chuckled quietly with the softest smile on his face while his hands found my rips to rest on hesitantly. Though his hold was firm, it was a gesture meant to steady me, keep me from falling and getting hurt, but oh if it didn’t weaken my knees even further. And I fell. Metaphorically speaking.

“Hi,” he hummed, his face leant in so his lips were near my ear. I shuddered when his warm breath fanned my skin. His hands brought me closer to him. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” I replied cheerfully, my arms raising to rest on top of his shoulders with a wide smile. The embarrassment I felt when my voice broke was over quickly and though Harry’s smile told me he’d noticed, it was alright. The kind expression he wore and the alcohol numbing my brain were relaxing me enough to not blush at the uncommon closeness between us.

Maybe the lack of a barrier between us had become something unfamiliar, but when my fingers found the back of his neck and his soft curls to play with, I felt at home. He was truly here, in my arms. The softness of his strands was too addictive to let go of again. I normally wouldn’t have ever dared to be handsy with him, which of course didn’t mean that I didn’t long to be. Touching your ex’s hair and embracing his shoulders after not having seen him in 14 months wasn’t exactly what was considered a great idea, was it?

But Harry wasn’t really any ex. We’d never been an exclusive couple, never went on a date or got around to be introduced to parents. Harry and I were… in the lack of a better word Friends with benefits. It started one night mostly as a half drunken mistake and then continued until our relationship had transformed into something more. We’d hook up occasionally when we were in need for relief, then when we were in need of a shoulder to lean on and then when we were in need to be near each other. Our feelings for each other heightened and grew in strength until when we were in public and somebody asked what we were, neither of us knew what to say anymore. The term friends didn’t suffice, fuck-buddies sounded too meaningless.
So we avoided a label all together which was what had brought us to an end.

“Are you okay?” I asked him, trying to adapt a neutral tone. My brows knitted together and I observed his face closely, wanting to be sure he wouldn’t lie. Harry didn’t drink often, hardly ever got properly drunk. I feared he’d changed since we’d last spoken.

Harry nodded though his gaze darkened. Instinctively my hold on his locks tightened in fear he’d pull away.

“I’m good,” Harry muttered, coming closer once more so he could talk into my ear, “But I’ll be even better if you let me take you home.”

My stomach dropped and I let out a shocked gasp. He flinched when I shifted, almost tumbling once more and frowned at me trying to pull away.

“You sure are forward, aren’t you,” I joked half heartily, my voice doing a poor job at covering up the surprise.

Harry’s eyes widened, his head catching up to what he’d said.

“S'not what I mean!” Harry stressed, “M'not trying- Y/N you know m'not that sleazy. Was a stupid way of phrasing and-”

“Harry,” I laughed, “I know. Didn’t sound like you for a minute so I know you didn’t intend it.”

My hands ran down his shoulders and squeezed his arms. “But why do you want me to come with you?

The green of his orbs sparkled and my gaze dropped to the pink of his pillow lips. "Because I really miss you.”

….

His room looked nothing like I remembered. And that saddened me. The soft blue colored sheets, sheets I’d loved to sleep in due to their unbelievable softness had been replaced by plain white ones. Where once the stacks of books we used to read in to one another before falling asleep had been on his nightstand, was now a quartet of scented candles. I frowned and stepped closer. I’d kept up with what he’d been up to and had only rolled my eyes at his newly discovered obsession with candles, but now that I stood right in front of four my fingers twitched.

Orange. Lavender. Hibiscus. Almond.

“Is water okay? I can make you a tea if you want. Think I even got your favorite somewhere.”

Harry stood in the doorway, watching me with a mixed expression I found difficult to read. But I understood. It must have looked as strange to him as it felt for me, given that the last time I’d been in this exact bedroom we’d both been crying our hearts out.

“Water is fine,” I replied with a hesitant smile, “Thank you.”

His feet were slow when he approached me and the invitation to sit on his bed was spoked low. Any confidence Harry had shown back in the bar was lost, just like my bravery was wearing off with the remains of alcohol leaving my system. The more I sobered up, the stranger the whole situation became to me.

“Please, don’t get sick,” Harry requested quietly, whilst helping me sit down on his bed. I could only assume he was reading my pale cheeks and discomfort as a sign of too much alcohol in my blood. “Got new sheets.”

“I noticed.” The disappointment was evident in my voice and I forced a smile to cover it up, “And I’m alright.”

Why were the sheets gone? It was silly to feel nostalgic about them, but why hadn’t he kept the material we’d spent hours of sleeping under? Where we’d made plans, confessed dreams and caused giggles to fill the room? Had he thrown them away just like that and replaced them by silly blue ones? How could he?

“Where are they?”

“Who?” his face wore an expression of pure confusion.

I let my fingers touch the top of his mattress. It felt wrong. Not even half as soft as it used to be. “The sheets.”

Harry didn’t reply which was answer enough. I hissed and shook my head. My heart was heavy with a sudden sadness I couldn’t explain and knew was stupid. There was no reason for me to feel crushed over the loss of some blue material I hadn’t lain on in a long time. He’d made a decision I had no place being angry about.

Sensing my crushed feelings Harry shifted beside me, his arms ached to reach out and embrace me but his mind burned with questions he needed answers for.

“Why didn’t you ever call, Y/N?”

We weren’t avoiding the awkwardness, then. We wouldn’t dance around the uncomfortable feelings. My chest moved and my lungs filled with fresh air. One thing I appreciated about Harry was his bravery, one I never possessed. He wasn’t afraid of tackling the difficult conversations.

“I can’t remember how many nights I stayed up staring at my phone with hopes I could never fully let go of.”

“I needed space,” I explained weakly, “Needed to clear my head.”

We sat so close next to each other his knee brushed mine and though it was only a small touch, my eyes could not look away from it. His body heat easily radiated off of me, awakening every cell of my body and speeding up the rhythm of my heart. I wanted more, wanted to be reminded what it felt like to hold him right.

“Clear it from me?” Harry’s quiet voice was laced with sadness, “You shut me out of your life. As if you tried to make it like I’d never touched it.”

Contradicting his words, Harry’s hand found my thigh, giving it an entirely non sexual squeeze, one that let me know he wasn’t angry. My hand pressed on top of his and I looked up to meet his eyes.

“You know what I felt for you, Harry.”

He nodded. “Which is just why I don’t understand.”

It’d been him who’d broken us off. Well, whatever “us” had meant. His solo career had been in its beginnings and he knew he’d need to be free to travel for it, work an impossible amount of hours and be available to anyone always. Anyone, aside form me.

Going solo meant he was busy and that meant that any feelings for him I had developed, did not have any place.
Harry cared for me, wanted me and desired to keep me close, but at the same time he knew that if he let us strengthen our bond even more, we would eventually suffer a heart break. Our connection wasn’t meant to be, not at that time anyway.

“I began to miss you so terribly the moment you closed the door behind you,” I breathed.

Watching him walk out of my apartment was a sight I knew I’d never forget. No matter how many promises of keeping in touch, staying friends and wanting to remain close had been made, I was sure we both knew they were void of true meaning.

Harry had touched my heart. How could I look into his eyes after having been rejected?

I whimpered when his body turned to face mine and shuddered when his hand fount my neck, gently turning my head so I looked up at him.
Harry’s brows were knitted together while his eyes pleaded with mine. My lips parted and my head spun when my own palms found their place on his shoulders, only centimeters away from his collarbones. I yearned to touch his skin.

“But that doesn’t mean you had to cut me off like that,” he whispered.

“Your fear of perhaps not having enough time for me didn’t mean you had to deny us any chance either,” I countered, arching one eyebrow at him.

Relief overcame me when a smile pulled at the corner of his lips and I felt some of the tension in the room shift. “That is true, I suppose.”

His thumb gently caressed the skin of my cheek before trailing along my jaw. Harry shook his lovely head, making his slightly disheveled hair fall into his face. “And both happened despite that I loved you.”

There it was again. The buzz in the air. I moved further up to sit in a crossed legged position across from him, both of my hands still pressed flat to his chest and his eyes closed when the tips of my fingers dared finding the unbuttoned part of his shirt where his warm skin was accessible.

I hummed, a shy smile on my lips.

“You know,” I began in a whisper, “your choice of candles lets me hope there is no past tense to your feelings.”

His nose brushed my cheek and his mouth kissed my shoulder.

My voice shook as I went on: “They are, after all, the scent of the cookies I always made for you, the soap of mine you used to hate and the oil I used to massage your shoulders with when you were stressed.”

A low moan fell from his mouth at the memory and my eyes fell shut.

“And what’s the last scent for?” he asked.

My body was pushed back to lie flat on his mattress and I welcomed him with open arms who finally got to hold him tight again.

“It’s the smell of my hair,” I whispered into the shell of his ear, whimpering when his lips pressed warm kisses to the bare exposed skin of my collarbones. “My shampoo.”

“Maybe s'not in the past tense then,” Harry murmured, grunting when my legs found the familiar place around his hips, “Maybe I still love you.”

“That would be nice,” I gasped when he pressed himself closer against my skin and wanted to cry because it still wasn’t enough.

“Would it?”

“Yes,” my hold tightened, “because I’m as in love with you as I was the day I told you for the first time.”

Hope you liked it! It’s the first story I posted since being officially 19! Ahh!! Love everyone of you who reads my stories, your support means so much. Thank you.

Rest of my stories: 

http://harryimaginedstories.tumblr.com/post/144920695218/masterlist

mutantgurls  asked:

Omg! I lie your druid lance at. If you mind, how exactly will the team find out his secret and how will they react?

It would kind of be a 2 parter.

They would find out that he was Altean after sendak tried to over the castle, when they put him in the pod it gave Out a basic list of medical things, including the fact that he’s Altean . And of course the team is super super supportive when he gets out and Coran and Allura are so happy to not be the only ones left, and get kinda clingy.

Lance is happy that everyone is accepting of the truth, even if it’s only half of it. He can’t bring himself to tell anyone of them about his ‘origins’. he can’t bring himself to really show his true form. No matter how many times the team tries to make him comfortable about showing it, even Allura and Coran can’t get him to relax and release his human form.

After weeks of the constant support and questions about why he won’t show his real form, Lance sorta of breaks. Just a bit. He tells them that he hasn’t shown them his true form because he knows that it’ll be different than what they’ll expect. That he’ll look…..wrong. He knows he will. His facial marking aren’t like Allura’s and Coran’s. his aren’t beautiful like theirs. Let alone the scars from the experiments, and from the years of training that he went through. He would look wrong compared to Allura and Coran. Corrupted.

Of course the team doesn’t care, but they know that Lance does so they still give him their full support. Especially from Shiro who understands a bit of what Lance is going through (he doesn’t know how similar they’re in experiences). And while it isn’t much, slowly……slowly Lance starts to let go a little bit at a time.

Sometimes he’ll come to breakfast with pointed ears. Other times he’ll be taller than he was earlier in the day. He’s even let his eyes go back to normal sometimes when he’s super excited!
(Lance’s Altean eyes aren’t yellow like his mothers.)

But also, Allura and Coran teaching him ALL about the history and traditions of Altea. They help him learn the language, and about all the celebrations and pretty much anything and everything about their home planet. Things that Lance’s mother never told him about. Haggar only taught him about the Galra empire, she never told him about Altea or traditions or any stories about it. He enjoys every time Allura or Coran pull him from whatever he’s doing and teach him about ‘this certain event of Altean history’ or 'this holiday represented’ that they would tell him.


Now the fact that’s in fact the son of Zarkon’s right hand witch? Well that’s another story for another time.

3

                          I’m holding on
                                                                                          and I won’t let go

Come Find Me VII

It’s here! Also heads up, the advice in this chapter is real, so if ever do go without food for a while, you should follow it. I’ll probably need it soon ironically enough, because it is officially too hot to keep anything down, so I’m living off liquids and the occasional fruit. Also @fallingineternity@parsnipit

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI

Anxiety buried his head in his hands. And here he’d though this week couldn’t get any worse. But no.

The thing was, finding out that the others didn’t care had hurt, but had not been entirely unexpected. He’d just never wanted to admit it to himself before. So despite the pain this little experiment had caused, Anxiety would have been able to deal with it and let things go back to normal. And chances were, the others would have never noticed a thing.

But now, just when he had managed to accept that he was on his own, that he wasn’t the kind of person people wanted to be around, Prince had to come in. And now he was going to have to deal with all his bullshit guilt and pity, because while the other side may have hated him, but Anxiety knew that his hero complex wouldn’t let him leave Anxiety alone either, not when he thought Anxiety was in distress. It was the exact same attitude Prince got when he saw anyone he thought needed help.

Although, Anxiety really, really wished that for once Prince could leave off with all his heroic crap, because having him try and “help” Anxiety out of uncomfortable obligation was actually worse than the others not noticing him disappear for a week.

Still, at least it wouldn’t last long. A few days, heck maybe even just one, and Prince would remember just how much he hated being around Anxiety, and he’d give up. Till then, Anxiety might as well accept some of his help, like the soup.

Anxiety hated to admit it, but he had really screwed up on the whole not eating thing. Sure, this was hardly the first time he’d skipped meals, but he’d never skipped so many before. And if Prince knew how to help him recover from his mistake, then fine, Anxiety would let him help. Then Prince would feel appropriately heroic and leave, and Anxiety would go back to being forgotten.

Anxiety reached for the glass of water by his bedside, taking small sips until he’d drank the entire thing. He set it back on the bedside table. While he still felt like crap, his headache had eased up slightly.

He stifled a yawn. Despite having spent most of the last week sleeping, he still felt exhausted. Actually he felt more exhausted than when he’d last fallen asleep. Anxiety let his eyes close. What the hell, he was tired and it wasn’t like there was any point in getting up. He might as well sleep

When Anxiety woke up, it was to a cool sensation on his forehead. He squinted up as he reluctantly forced his eyelids to open. Prince was sitting next to him wiping down his forehead with a damp cloth.

“…the hell?” he muttered, only half awake.

“Your skin’s rather warm,” Prince explained briskly, “Likely from the dehydration. I brought an entire pitcher of water this time. I thought it would be easier, since until you recover more, walking will be rather difficult. Oh, and I have that soup I mentioned. I told Morality I’d had a craving and simply had to have minestrone soup. You should eat it while it’s still warm.”

Anxiety blinked trying to process the wave of words. Right, okay.

He forced himself upright, shoving away Prince’s hand as he did so. Prince let him without a fight, although he kept staring at Anxiety with a weird kind of intensity. Anxiety tried not to squirm under it.

“So you got minestrone?” he said, pressing his hands to his eyes trying to wake himself up more. God, he still felt tired, like his very bones were exhausted.

“Well, I realized once I reached Morality’s room that I don’t actually know what kinds of soup you like, and while chicken noodle may be an old standby, I also didn’t want Morality to start thinking I was coming down with something. And well, minestrone was the first kind of soup to pop into my head after that. I figured you’d probably be fine with it, correct?”

“Yeah, no, minestrone’s fine,” Anxiety mumbled. It was actually his favorite kind of soup, but he wasn’t going to give Princey the satisfaction of knowing that. He took the bowl and began to sip it carefully.

After a few minutes, he glanced up. Prince was still sitting on his bed.

“Did you want something?” he drawled.

“What do you like to eat?” Prince asked in reply.

Anxiety paused, setting down his spoon. What? His confusion must have shown on his face, because Prince clarified.

“Eating is going to be hard for a short while as your stomach readjusts to having food again, so there’s no point in making it an even worse struggle by making you eat food that you hate. So I’m asking you what you like to give me a better plan for your recovery.”

“I thought this was my recovery?” Anxiety said confused. “I mean, this will get me upright again, and then I can make my own food. Or at the very least go grab the leftovers Morality always leaves me in the fridge.”

“Of course this isn’t enough to fully recover!” Roman spluttered. “You haven’t eaten in a week! Wait, those leftovers were specifically for you?”

“Yeah,” Anxiety dragged out. “Why do you care- you’re the one that’s been eating them.”

“I will endeavor not to do so in the future,” Roman said, actually looking a little contrite. Then he flung his hands out dramatically. “But this is not the point! You can’t just eat one meal then be better, it takes time for you to recover your appetite.  I doubt you’ll even be able to finish the soup. In fact, I imagine you must be feeling rather full right now, don’t you?”

Anxiety scowled down at his soup. There was still half of it left, but he couldn’t bring himself to eat much more. He hated that Roman was right.

Despite Anxiety’s lack of response, Roman was happy to continue on.

“What’s important is not for you to try and gorge yourself the minute you can walk again. Rather, I recommend having smaller meals every few hours or so. Bread would be a good thing to try and eat next. It’s solid food, unlike the soup, but not overly heavy, and the carbs will be good for you. Oh, and while it may still be too heavy for you right now, perhaps tomorrow we could add some peanut butter for protein. Do you like peanut butter?”

“You’ve seen me eat peanut butter” Anxiety said dryly. Dammit, so much for everything being over quickly. Still, he doubted Prince would feel this invested tomorrow. He’d just listen to the stupid diet plan, and work it all out on his own.

“You know,” Prince said thoughtfully, ignoring Anxiety’s last comment. “It’s probably faster just to ask which foods you don’t like.”

Anxiety rolled his eyes, but since he could see Prince staring at him with expectation, he reluctantly replied.

“I don’t like fish, and I’m not really huge vegetable person,” he muttered and then because he could see Prince gearing up for a lecture, he hastened to add. “I mean, they’re fine in things, I just don’t like them on their own. Um, aside from that, I’m not a huge mayonnaise person, but that’s about it.”

Prince nodded briskly.

“I’ll be sure to remember that,” he said. “For now, try and eat a little more if you can. If you can’t, just rest, and be sure to keep drinking the water I brought.”

“So I’m supposed to just stay in bed? All day” Anxiety asked, not at all happy about taking orders from Prince.

“And here I thought you enjoyed spending your days lazing away,” Prince said with some amusement in his voice. “But yes, pushing yourself and expending energy when your body’s running on nothing would be foolish.

“Well then can you at least grab my laptop,” Anxiety said, gesturing towards his desk, irritated that once again Prince had a point.

Prince deposited the device in his lap.

“I’ll be back later,” he said, and then with a hesitant smile. “Perhaps we could watch some Disney movies together?”

“Whatever,” Anxiety snapped, shoving his headphones over his head. Like he cared.

There was short pause, during which Anxiety kept his eyes firmly fixed on his screen. Then there was sigh and the sound of footsteps.

“Remember to drink water,” Prince called out one last time, as he shut the door.

Anxiety rolled his eyes. God this whole heroic act was annoying. He seriously wished that Prince would just go back to normal, instead of acting like he cared. This wasn’t a fairy tale, and Anxiety was no damsel in distress. Prince could go be the hero somewhere else.

I’m Yours

Request: hayes imagine where you two are getting ready for an awards show and you have your hair and makeup people helping and you and hayes and the guys are all just hanging out while getting ready and hayes can’t believe how georgous you look and the guys are all shocked so hayes like keeps touching and hugging and kissing you to make everyone know your his. thanks girlie!! love ur blog❤

+

could you do a hayes grier imagine where him & y/n are dating and they hang out at his house with all the guys?

a/n; I combined the two requests since they kinda go together, and one was kind of vague as to what happens so

Word Count: 810

Pairing: Hayes Grier X Reader


Y/N’s P.O.V

I rolled my eyes as the guys somehow ended up in the kitchen where I was getting ready, I couldn’t turn to face them since I was having my hair curled. The blinds all pulled up to let lots of light in, “what are you guys doing?” I asked, looking as far back towards them as I could, “waiting.” I heard spread out across the room, I sighed, looking back in front of me, the makeup artist just got here so she’s setting up. 

“What kind of look are we going for?” She asked, ignoring the noise from everyone else, “modern, but not crazy.” I answered, I pulled up a picture of my dress for tonight, so she would know what type of colors to use. Hayes appeared in front of us making me smile, “hi babe.” I grabbed his hand as it rested on the counter next to me, “hey, baby.” He smiled at me, glancing back over at the guys who weren’t really paying any attention. 

“You look nice.” I told him, looking him over, he was almost wearing a suit, he was just missing the tie basically, but it looked nice, mature and polished. “Thank you.” He laughed, letting go of my hand as one of the guys called him over. “He’s sweet.” My hairstylist said, tugging gently on a piece of hair, pulling it into an updo, I closed my eyes as the eye shadow brush started coming towards my face. “And so it begins.” I mumbled, hearing the boys get even more rowdy, without a doubt getting documented on Snapchat by Johnson. 

“And here we have Y/N, getting pulled around by her hair.” I heard Johnson, as my head got pulled to the side by my hair, I laughed, “vlog or Snapchat?” I asked, not opening my eyes, since I couldn’t. “Vlog.” He answered, I nodded subtly, not wanting to mess up anything. 

“I just have to get dressed.” I assured Hayes as I walked past him, he grabbed my hand, making me turn towards him. He planted a kiss on my lips before letting me go, normally Madison and I helped each other get into our more elaborate dresses, but she’s out of town right now, so I’m on my own. 

I resisted the urge to bite my lip as I struggled to reach the zipper on my dress, “why couldn’t it be on the side?” I mumbled to myself, sticking my head out into the hall. “Hayes!” I shouted down the stairs, “someones in trouble.” I heard faintly followed by his footsteps thumping up the stairs. Hayes raised his eyebrows at me as I came into his view. “I can’t get the zipper.” I explained turning my back towards him. 

I watched in the mirror in front of me as the dress got pulled together, hugging me just right. It was a simple black dress, snug at the top but slightly looser once it got past my hips, spaghetti straps on top to help hold the v-neck up, cut outs on my waist. But it still had an element of class, it showed skin, but not in an obnoxious way. 

“Well, damn.” Hayes met my eyes in the mirror, I turned in his light grasp of my waist, his hands on the skin showing in the cut outs, “ready?” I asked, reaching to grab his hand. He nodded, asking me if I had everything I needed before we started our descent downstairs. My heels clicked on the wood stairs, slowly but surely everyone started shutting their mouths as I came into view. I felt a blush rise to my cheeks by all the attention, they normally don’t see me this way, it’s normally a “she’s Hayes’ girlfriend and she’s younger than us” way, but now I don’t look like I’m as young as I am. The dress in combination with the hair and makeup ages me, in a good way. 

I cleared my throat, realizing we were all kind of just standing there, I felt Hayes’ hand rest on the small of my back, slightly lower than where it normally is. I glanced at him, but didn’t say anything, I’ll let him have his little moment. 

“Ready?” I asked everyone as we stepped off of the last step, Hayes’ hand still on my back. “Uh, yeah.” The only two who had really stopped looking at me early on were Nash and Gilinsky, since they have girlfriends. “Let’s go then.” I mumbled, walking away from them, feeling Hayes wrap his arm around me some more. A quick kiss left on my temple. “I’m yours, Hayes, you don’t have to keep showing them.” I mumbled, looking up at him as everyone followed behind us. 

“I know but you just look so good.” He whispered in my ear, his eyes shooting a warning glance behind us. 

Baby Porcupine (Logan X Daughter!Reader)

Characters: Logan X Daughter!Reader

Universe: Marvel, Xmen

Warnings: None

FLUFF

Request: Hey there!! I’m a huge fan of you stories, especially your marvel ones ^^ I was wondering if you could do one of logan or Thor possibly having a daughter? Maybe logan could help his daughter through after discovering she’s a mutant as well? Thanks!! ^w^


Originally posted by nikolajwaldau

Logan had found out about you, his daughter when a girl he had a one night stand with a random woman and she told him he either takes you or she will get rid of you. In the end he decided he’d look after you himself, and that’s how you came into the world.

Keep reading

Perfectly Fine

Originally posted by dean-winchester-crush

Request: Could you do a dean fic where he saved the reader on a case long ago and they’ve been dating since. But then on djinn hunt dean gets captured and put into the dream world and while their he finds the reader. She’s living an apple pie life with another guy and two kids. When the reader and Sam saves dean from the djinn he feels guilty for pulling her into the hunting life. The end like an angsty/fluff mix where the reader promises she wouldn’t want that life. 

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 1,100ish

Warnings: none

A/N: Angst & fluff? This definitely leans to one of those…


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Way to Go, Kid (unedited)

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Summary: Reader finds a news report on herself about joining her school’s track and field team. Father!Tony × Daughter!Reader, Mama Bear!Nat, Word Count: Lots, too long for me to even care. Warnings: Fluff, slight mental break down, terrible writing A/N: Please forgive me for not posting for 2 weeks. Requests are open. I might do a Bucky one later today, who knows. Gifs ain’t mine, y'all.

Originally posted by sophfie


Originally posted by xborntobemybabyx

Pressing the on button of the treadmill, you went to work. And by work, I meant you were running, like actually running running. It was 5.15 am in the city that never slept, meaning the traffic 18 stories below you was in full swing.

As your feet hit the treads, you immediately got bored. Music would never help, so you opted to turning on the TV. The first channel that played was the news. You were used to people talking around you when you ran that it just flew over your head.

That was until you heard the new report. “Y/N Stark, daughter of the billionaire, surprised us all last summer when she started at Midtown High School.” Your public school photo was shown next to a photo of you and Peter Parker.

Tripping on your own feet, you fell off the treadmill. “FRIDAY, record this and send it to dad when he wakes up.” You say to the AI system.

“Yes, Miss.” The feminine robot replied. “Your father is awake. Shall I alert him that you are awake?”

“Yeah, why not.” You mumble, getting back on the treadmill.

As you keep watching the report on you, you see a familiar photo. It was Peter Parker and you smiling to the camera. You were in your track uniform and his arm was slung around your shoulder. “- the young girl has been seen during track practice flirting with other athletes. It is unknown what events she is in, but according to footage from the school’s Twitter page suggests she is a sprinter and a long jumper.”

A video of you sprinting around the track showed, and in every frame there was a certain spider boy yelling for you to keep pace. Peter wasn’t on the team, he wasn’t a manager, he was just there because your control freak of a father is paying him. He’s there because Tony freaking Stark wants someone he trusts there if you get hurt.

The sound of the door opening behind you pulled you from your running. And as the world would have it, you tripped and flew off the end of the treadmill. “Geez, Y/N, you’re supposed to be a runner.” Your father joked.

“Hahaha, very funny.” You glare towards him and get up. Turning your attention to the TV, you see more of yourself in running shorts and tank tops. “What are we going to do about this?” You sigh.

“Sweetheart, you’re a Stark. Whatever you do, it’s going to be broadcast across the world.” Your father’s hand was placed on your shoulder. “The press got all worked up when you started at Midtown in August. They’re not going to let you feel normal. Just do your best and stay out of trouble.” Kissing your head, Tony started to leave the room.

“But why me? I have ‘Stark’ in my name and now I’m a celebrity.” Feeling of despair made themselves prominent in your mind. “Why can’t I be normal like Pete?” You cry.

“You’ve never been normal, Y/N M/N, deal with it.” And with that, your only parent left the room.

Your attempted work out was cut short by this sudden development. You went to your room to get ready for the school day.

When you emerged from your room, the team was having their team meeting over breakfast. Steve noticed your presence first. “Hey kiddo!” His cheery tone pushed you farther into your melancholy state.

“Good morning Steve.” You muttered.

Everyone noticed your mood and looked at your paternal unit. “What? It’s not my fault!” Tony threw his hands up in defense.

Nat got up, once again glaring at your dad. “I’ll deal with this.”

She followed you into the kitchen. “Hey, hun.”

“Hello.” You grumbled as you made yourself a bowl of cereal.

“What’s wrong?” Was all she had to say before you broke.

Tear flowed fast down your cheeks. “I just want to be normal. I don’t want to be a Stark. I want to be myself and not my father’s shadow.” Falling to the floor, you curled into a ball.

Nat sat next to you and held your shaking form in her arms. “What made you come to these thoughts?”

“The news report on me.” You whispered.

The team was gathered at the door frame as you looked up. Sad faces met your own, all speaking words of wisdom. “You what? You may be a Stark, but you’re never stuck in your father’s shadow. No one in this tower has lived a normal life.”

Thoughts of how dumb this tantrum was wandered through your head. “I’m sorry. I should have my feelings in check.” The apology falls out of your mouth.

“It’s normal, Y/N.” Nat kissed your cheek. “Now, you need to get to school.”

You ate on the floor, leaving your bowl and spoon relatively close to the sink. Steve and Bucky offered to drop you off because you had definitely missed the subway.

The ride there was filled with unique questions. When your school building was in sight, your need to get out of the black SUV rose. “When should we pick you up from track, doll?” Buck inquired as you jumped out on to school property.

“4.30, probably… What time is it?”

“8.15, why?” Confusion hit both of the super soldiers.

“I’m late and as a freshman, I need one of you to check me in.” The day was just getting better by the minute.

Steve parked the car where it was and they both escorted you in to your first period. You were embarrassed as whispers erupted around the lecture hall. “Miss Stark, you’re late.”

“I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.” You squeak as you find your seat next to Peter. You were never living this down.

Unexpected (Part 7)

Yoongi starts to make amends with everyone and tries to get his life back to the way it was before the breakup.

Warning: Sex stuff, ridiculous amounts of dirty talk, I don’t even know why I bother warning people – if you read my writing, 99% chance of utter filth will be incorporated in the plot.

Parts: 1  2  3  4  5  6  7  8 (final)  8.5 (bonus)

It was late when Yoongi finally left your apartment to head home.  You had asked him to spend the night again, but he declined saying that he had to go back and try to make things right with the other guys after messing up practice yesterday and blowing it off completely today.  You understood, but still had difficulty letting go of him as he tried to exit and begged him not to change his mind. Yoongi kissed you and promised that he was sincere and wouldn’t be easily swayed again.

He was nervous as he stood outside the door to his apartment, thinking about what he would say to the others when he went in.  If Yoongi could have his way, he would have liked to just pretend that he hadn’t been a miserable asshole to everyone in his life for the past few weeks and let things go back to normal on their own.  That might have been an option if he hadn’t had that fight with Tae and disappeared for a full day, but now he would be forced to actually make amends.

Yoongi took a deep breath, exhaled, and opened the door; everyone was sitting around the table together eating some chicken they had ordered in.  Jungkook noticed Yoongi walk in first, calling out to him, “Hyung, you’re back!  What happened to you?  I was getting worried.”

Before Yoongi could answer, Jimin jumped up from the table and motioned for Yoongi to come sit next to him. “Hyung, are you hungry?  Come have something to eat.”

Yoongi walked towards the table while Jimin made some room for him.  All eyes were on him, except for Taehyung who kept his eyes on the food sitting in front of him, absentmindedly picking the meat off the bone with his chopsticks.  Tae’s bangs obscured his eyes, but Yoongi could still see the bruises, his face was partly swollen and a scab had formed on his lower lip from where the skin had been torn.

Namjoon turned to Yoongi and spoke, “So, have you been at your ex’s place this whole time?”

“Yeah,” Yoongi replied sheepishly. “I got blind drunk and passed out in front of her place last night so she took me in.  After I woke up, we talked and worked things out.”

Jin looked sternly at Yoongi and asked, “Are you saying the two of you are back together?”

“Yes,” Yoongi answered, “we are officially back together.”  

Tae slammed his chopsticks down and got up from the table, mumbling that he had lost his appetite and was going to his room.  Yoongi felt pangs of guilt as he watched Tae walk down the hall.

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I love the idea of lefou and gaston having a rough kind of relationship after the battle scene with the beast, the event having knocked some sense into gaston to the point where he just wants lefou and him to go do their own thing elsewhere. But lefou is still too upset with him to let things go back to normal.

So gaston does the only thing he can think of: asks belle for advice.

“Roses?” Gaston scoffs, “as if-”

“People like roses gaston,” Belle interrupts. “And you have to be kinder. Show him you can change, act like you care.”

“But I do care!”

“Show him, then,” Belle waves her hand. “And give him space when he needs it.”

And after begrudgingly accepting her advice, and several bouquets of flowers and love letters Lefou can’t read thrown through the window of Lefou’s house, Lefou finally relents and they go out on their first date.

(And no, Belle and Adam do not spy on them that would be rude. )

(And by no I mean yes they most definitely did.)

this is another one of evie’s ((@ihearthemcallingxx)) requests so thanks again to evie for letting me do this and thanks to the anon for asking requesting this for evie and i hope you dont mind that i was the one that ended up filling it 

request: “It’s okay to cry…”

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His accent 🙈

Nico’s originally from Italy, so I can imagine him having the accent still. Even though he was in the casino for a while, he was still around Bianca a lot, and she would *certainly* have an accent. That means there’s a chance that Nico would retain at least a part of his.

Of course, it’s watered down thanks to living in America for so long. But that said, I believe that it’s there in the rare moments he’s excited and off guard. He’ll start speaking with an adorable Italian accent, his eyes sparkling with energy that he hasn’t had in years. He’ll laugh and not even notice that people would stare.

Or, even better, he’d slip into Italian without even noticing. He’d be in a conversation with someone and get super excited. Then, in the middle of the conversation, would switch languages. He’d be smiling and continue with whatever he was saying, but it would be in Italian. The other person, in response, would either look very confused causing Nico to notice his mistake and grow quiet and embarrassed therefore ruining the moment, or would go along with it.

Imagine:

Will sat under the shade of a tree with Nico. It was a nice, sunny day. There was a breeze, so it was chillier than Will preferred it, but it didn’t seem to bother Nico thanks to his jacket. Will loved being outside, and Nico loved the shadows, so the shade of a tree on a sunny day was the perfect scenario for both boys.

They weren’t doing much at the moment, just sitting in silence and enjoying each other’s company. Nico wasn’t one for talking, but with his hand entwined with Will’s, there was no doubt in the blonde’s mind that the other boy cared.

“Hobbies.” Nico said, seemingly out of the blue.

If Will had been anybody else, he would have thought Nico’s comment was of no value; was something random that could be brushed off. But Will knew better than that. The comment was just part of the game that him and Nico played. Ever since the incident that had brought them together [A/N: see the first chapter of my new Solangelo fic], Nico had actually put somewhat of an effort into who he was.

Mysteriously, he still couldn’t answer the three questions that Will had asked in the beginning.

Will chuckled lightly, squeezing his boyfriend’s hand. “Hobbies… reading, archery, and soccer.”

“Soccer?” Nico questioned, turning his head to look at Will. “You play a sport?”

“Used to.” Will explained to him. “Since becoming a year-rounder here at camp, I haven’t played at all. I kind of miss it.”

Will caught a small glint of curiosity in Nico’s eye, as if he were about to ask another question. He opened his mouth, but it was gone as soon as it came, the question seemingly dying in his throat. He closed his mouth as calmly and as stoically as everything he did.

“Now it’s your turn, Nico.” Will told him expectantly. “Let me here about what you do in your free-time.”

Nico sighed heavily. The stony expression on his face looked strained, as if he were debating a life or death decision. Even though he knew that couldn’t be the case, it made Will’s heart beat just a little quicker with worry.

Nico looked down at the grass, picking at it with his free hand. “I used to be really into Mythomagic.”

“Mythomagic…” Will repeated. That name rung a bell in his mind, but he was having trouble placing where he had heard it. When it struck him, he smiled. “Mythomagic. Isn’t that Trading Card Game? Sort of like Magic: The Gathering?”

“And like Pokémon.” Nico said, sounding tired. “I’ve heard it all, and yes - it is a TCG.”

Will laughed at Nico. “So your a secret dork, huh? You into video games and anime too?”

Nico looked back at the ground again. “Maybe I am, maybe I’m not. Your point is?”

Will shrugged. “I don’t know, but I adore this new secret part of you.”

He meant to be endearing, but Nico looked just as upset and embarrassed as he always did when Will started to pry. Why Nico had let Will get anything out of him if it made him feel so bad, the blonde medic would never know. But he *did* know that he had to make Nico feel better, even though he had been the one to start the conversation about hobbies.

“Tell me more about it.” Will told him. Nico looked up at him, confused. “Mythomagic, that is. I know of it, but I don’t know much about it. Could you please explain it to me?”

Nico obliged. He tentatively began to explain the rules of the game. Will followed along, although it started getting a bit complicated. Nico kept looking up at him, then back at the ground as he talked. He seemed almost frightened to be discussing it.

Then, something amazing happened.

When he was done explaining the rules, he branched off. His voice was a couple pitches higher and he let go off Will’s hand. Normally, that would have been a bad sign. Nico receding back into himself was a silent warning sign his boyfriend would give him. But this time, he released Will’s hand to be able to talk with his hands.

His arms were flying just as fast as his words. Will had never heard Nico say something that hadn’t been thought through. This was a new sight. There was a sparkle in Nico’s eye that Will had never seen there before. A smile graced the boy’s face, and his voice reverberated with energy.

He began recounting stories and experiences of the game, laughing as he did so. Will had never heard anything as carefree and beautiful as Nico’s laugh. The pale boy talked about the game like Nico never talked about anything: with child-like excitement. It was free, and it was fun.

And as he spoke, Will heard Nico’s voice take on a slight change. Slowly but surely, an Italian accent overtook his words. It was adorable and innocent, the latter having never been a word to use with Nico. He looked at home, with the sunny day and Italian accent, as if the casino had never took home from him.

And then he completely lost Will. Nico’s words came out completely in Italian, and the boy didn’t even seem to notice. He just kept talking as if he were still speaking basic English. His eyes sparkled even more when he changed languages. Now, Nico seemed truly at home. He seemed truly comfortable; he looked comfortable in a way that Will knew he would never be able to make him.

Even though Will had no idea what Nico was saying, he didn’t interrupt. He simply enjoyed seeing his boyfriend so uncharacteristically happy. He let Nico have his moment of happiness and freedom. He seemed to be enjoying himself so much, Will wouldn’t dare interrupt him to break it to him. He was too cute and too happy.

Will was pretty sure he loved Nico even more after that afternoon.

Musing over my loneliness led me back to myself, and showed me that I hold onto the shadows of mere memories better than I do to the people in my life.
—  # I know that the day when everyone leaves is inevitable, so I choose to simply let them go.
Adam & Ronan

~ It’s not that faithful to the books. I just wanted to write some something with these two great characters. ~


‘So, what did you forget?’ Ronan’s voice asked; simple ‘Hello’ wasn’t an option.

‘Conditioner, sunglasses and my Latin dictionary.’ said Adam, holding the phone by his shoulder, while he was taking empty boxes downstairs to the garbage bin.

‘That may or may not be my doing.’

‘Ronan! I’m going to need this dictionary!’

‘No, what you going to need is a way to translate shit. I’m your way.’ Ronan simply said. Adam tossed the boxes into the container and grabbed the phone in his one hand, using the other to cover his eyes from the light of the setting sun. The campus looked amazing and peaceful; Adam insisted on coming here couple days earlier than everybody else would, so he could get to know the place. His dorm room was in a low, three condition building, one of many on both sides of wide sidewalk filled with trees and benches. Adam decided it was warm enough for him to take a walk around.

‘I can’t call you in the middle of the night while I’m doing my homework, because I forgot what consuetudine means.’

‘Well, I’m not stopping you. Also, my seventeen century friend, we have internet now. You can just check it on Google.’

‘So, your thievery was completely unnecessary?’

‘I didn’t say that you are going to use Google. It’s just for emergencies, when I’m not picking the phone. But you shouldn’t count on that. I am picking the phone.’ Adam could not supress the smile hearing determination in Ronan’s voice.

The one problem with him arriving here earlier was that he cut three days out of his time with Ronan. Three days of what was an idyllic summer at the Barns, filled with calm, restful nights and long, pleasant days. Four words he never fought he would be using to describe his life. Well, it was also satisfying (another new word). Especially after he get his acceptance letter from Cardanial University and they both, Ronan and he, started to feel that their time together has sort of an end date. Adam moved to Ronan, because there was no point in keeping his old place, and quitted all his jobs but one. Ronan kept telling him to abandoned it all, but Adam didn’t want to; he didn’t want to lose the appreciation of hard-worked money. So, three times a week he drove to the old Church, where he was tasked with renovating benches, confessionals and other wooden elements that needed polishing and impregnation. Then in the evening Ronan would show and they both would go and meet Gansey and Blue at the bar or, if the couple was on the road, sometimes to 300 Fox Way. The psychics there were not at all confused or surprised by their relationship, what Ronan found upsetting. Not that he wanted or expected homophobia or anything like that, but the whole thing was for him too close to fate and destiny and souls being bond to be with each other bullshit. Either way, they popped at 300 Fox Way now and then, where Adam would get some more lessons on card reading and Ronan would get into disputes with Orla and Jimi. It really was an idyllic summer.

‘So, what are you up to now?’ Ronan asked.

‘Not much. I’m walking through campus.’

‘Something interesting?’

‘Nothing. All of it. I don’t know. It feels like home, you know? Lawns, big trees, statues… It feels good.’

Maybe it wasn’t the best thing, telling Ronan that he feels great here, without him, but that was the truth. Well, not the part where they are separated, but Adam felt… welcomed. This new-old place felt like he belonged there, with sandy buildings, open spaces, bronze figures and big library in the centre. Of course, it all hasn’t even started yet, but it was looking good as far as he could tell.

‘I’m glad. But I hope it doesn’t mean that we could be having fucking awesome outdoors sex right now and I could drop you there on Sunday.’

Adam laughed, shaking his head. He knew Ronan good enough to know that he’s masking some other feelings with this pretentious statement. Not that it wasn’t true; Adam wouldn’t be mad if some fucking awesome outdoors sex with Ronan was happening right now.

‘You know that I have a job interview tomorrow morning, I need to be here.’

‘You’re already hired! They even have your measurements for some stupid uniform.’

‘It’s not uniform, it’s just an apron.’

‘They don’t need to standardize you for you to operate a coffee machine’ Ronan snorted.

‘No, but that’s how you make a brand. And it’s also because of some sanitary requirements. Don’t be an ass.’

‘I can’t, that’s my factory setting. Anyway, have you seen the place already?’

‘No, the café is on the other side, couple buildings behind the library. I don’t feel like going there today.’

‘And what do you feel like?’

‘Honestly?’

‘No, lie to me.’

‘Shut up, asshole’ another little outburst of Adam’s laughing. ‘I feel like you should be next to me.’

Although Adam did feel welcome here, it was strange to not be with Ronan now. Since their first night at the Barns, before the whole Glendower escapade ended, they weren’t without one another for more than twelve hours and they always knew that they are going to see each other the same day or night. Their relationship was addicting. But it wasn’t like with Blue or in all those movies. They weren’t holding hands in public, practising PDA or talking about it with other people or even with themselves. They weren’t for show-off. Yet at the same time it was so intense, so consuming, so overwhelming. When they were alone they were all hands and mouths and butterfly touches followed by hard grips and being out of breath and lying awake in the middle of the night, skin to skin. Nothing Adam ever felt, even Cabeswather, nothing could compare to being with Ronan.

Now, he was going to spend so much time without him. Right, the Barns were only like four hours’ drive, three if you let Ronan go his normal speed, it wasn’t another country or continent or even opposite side of the States, but still. He came here to do his own things, the ones he always worked so hard for. It wasn’t Ronan’s world, even if Adam pitched the idea to him a couple of times.

‘You know, you can always quit. I’ll be right back in a split second and we’ll pack you ever faster.’

‘Ronan…’

‘I know. I’m just kidding. Well, maybe a little not. But I miss you, too. Already.’

‘We’ll call each other every evening. Of course, if you’ll learn how to answer the phone.’

‘I know how to answer the phone, jackass. I just don’t care about it. But I care about you. Who knows, maybe I’ll even text you sometimes.’

‘No way!’

‘Yeah. What about some steamy fantasies in the middle of a class? That should be fun.’

‘Yes, especially when I’ll be going to the blackboard with a boner. Maybe I’ll just power off my phone for the classes.’

‘Don’t you even dare.’

Adam felt a shiver come down his spine. Even though they never used the word ‘love’, they both had their own ways of saying it. Ronan’s was words mixed with anger, possessiveness, dependence and neediness. Adam’s was touches, filled with the same emotions. They both knew how it works; neither of them needed long, sappy declaration. Well, maybe until now, who knows.

Hear You Scream

Here’s another one for my Kink List: #50 Loud Sex with Sam x Jess for anon, which I’m also using for SPNKinkBingo, info below.

Title: Hear You Scream
Square Filled: Sam x Jess
Ship: Sam x Jess
Rating: Explicit
Tags: smut. fingering, oral (fem receiving), vaginal sex, some dirty talk and loud noises
Summary (If applicable): Jess reminds Sam that in their new apartment, they don’t have to be quiet.
Word Count: ~1450
Written/Created for @spnkinkbingo

Sam gazed down at Jessica below him on their bed – their bed.  It still hadn’t sunk in completely that they had their own apartment now, no roommates to bother them, with one bedroom, for them to share.

He felt so grown up, a thought that felt ridiculous to him, but meant something all the same.

Jess’s hand came up to smooth Sam’s cheek, as if she knew what he was thinking.  “Welcome home, baby,” she whispered before pulling Sam down to kiss her.

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Masquerade | Jughead x Cheryl

Originally posted by snowscharming


Pairing: Jughead Jones x Cheryl Blossom
Description: Riverdale hosts a masquerade ball and the two most unlikely people end up spending the night together unknown to them.
Warnings: i dont rly think so.
Word Count: 2464
A/N: THIS ISN’T THE BIG JUGHEAD X CHERYL FIC I TALKED ABOUT, I’M STILL WORKING ON THAT but I was listening to Masquerade by Ashley Tisdale and then started writing this. I’m v nervous about it and it might not make sense or be that great but I love this pairing sfm.

Riverdale - the once innocent town now shrouded in deceit and mystery - was no longer a safe haven for those living there. People were constantly paranoid, waiting for the next disaster to happen. After the murder of Jason Blossom and the reveal that his own father had killed him, everyone was on edge. If someone’s own father could turn on their son like that who could anyone trust? People who were once friendly to each other were now cautious of who they spoke to, cautious of where they went and the things they did. Riverdale seemed to have this dark cloud hanging above it lately, one that it couldn’t get rid of.

So, Mayor McCoy decided the town was in a desperate need of a distraction. People needed to their minds off all the trouble so she got to work planning and thinking of ideas until she came up with something. The town was no stranger to hosting events every now and again but they’d never really had something quite as big as this happening.

A masquerade ball. One night where people could dress up, hide their identity and just let go and forget about what was going on in their little town.

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I actually think Sara being Captain is healthy for Rip

I saw some people criticizing Sara for using the Waverider as a human shield but the thing was that this was absolutely the right decision. And Rip would have done the same. But he would have done it in a dramatic, silent fashion while cursing himself on the inside. But now that Sara is the Captain? He gets to bitch and make sarcastic comments. He gets to grumble and pout. And Rip really needs this. To let go and actually be a normal person for a while. Try life on the wild irresponsible side