So we all know about this thingy, right? Well, I don’t like them.
First: they’re made of hard plastic and the edges
can sometimes be sharp enough to hurt a betta or tear its delicate
fins. Second: even though there is a version that doesn’t have a wire
inside the leaf (and this version is far safer), I can’t seem to find
that thing anywhere. I ordered them online, went to three different LPS, and all of them only had the wire version.
So I said, screw it. I’m gonna make my own betta leaf hammock
and it’ll be ten times better than this mass-market version. And since
my creation turned out fantastic, I’m gonna share my process with
everyone so that you never have to buy that crappy plastic leaf ever
So here’s what you do: Gather up any unused silk plants you have, or buy one of those
$4 silk plants at any pet store that have the adjustable leaves. They
look like this.
In the background of this picture you can see one leaf clump that I
pulled off the stem. In focus is one of those leafs cut off, including
the base of the leaf which has the hole meant to go through the stem.
Stick that thing right into a suction cup. Easy as that. Mine fit
snugly. I stole the suction cup I’m using off the awful
leaf-hammock-with-a-wire I ordered online, but you can probably go to
the dollar store and get a whole pack of this exact size.
That extra leaf I cut off in the beginning? Shoved it right into the
suction cup with the other leaf. Now everything is nice and snug; those
leaves won’t be budging any time soon.
Since I had it on hand, I also secured it with a bit of aquarium
sealant, but it wasn’t necessary. The leaves were stuck in there pretty
good without it, I’m just predicting it will be easier to clean down the
line if I glue it.
And there you have it. Two gorgeous, well-sized, sturdy and safe betta leaf hammocks for your tank.
So, to review, here’s the materials list:
1. Small suction cup(s)
2. Clump(s) of leaves from a silk plant of your choice
4. Aquarium sealant (optional)
A/N: I’m fucking tired. That’s all that needs to be said.
Warnings: None, fluff, slight angst i guess??
He had never actually noticed you, which was saying something because Jughead was a pretty observant guy. Well, he knew you were there, just thought you were too bland to waste any thought on.
You would always just take your place in the back of the class as you avoided the rest of mankind and did your schoolwork.
About a week ago, your English teacher assigned all of you to write an essay about the classic, Romeo and Juliet, that you all would be required to read to the entire class.
You spent the entire week on it, making sure it was perfect. When the day came to presenting, your teacher picked students at random to present their pieces.
You picked at your sleeves as you fidgeted, not wanting to go in the front of the class. But you knew you had no choice.
When your name was read aloud to announce your turn, you froze as everyone turned to look at you. You shakily stood up and grabbed your paper, gripping it tightly as you walked to the front of the class. You passed multiple desks before finally making it to the front and lightly clearing your throat before speaking.
Jughead hadn’t been paying attention at all to any of the students presentations, yawning at them all and cursing the stupid assignment in his head. That was, until you started to speak.
He had never actually heard you speak before, but found your voice soothing.
As you went to explain further in your essay he watched the determination and confidence showing on your features and admired it.
You began to quote some of the famous tale and his eyes flitted from your messy h/c locks to your big e/c eyes.
You read your big finish with a smile as the teacher applauded, astounded by your work. The rest of the class just smiled approvingly as they kept looking up at the classroom clock to see when the class would be over.
You noticed a dark haired boy staring at you and realized it was Jughead. You’d seen him around and were always intrigued but never were brave enough to approach him.
His deep blue irises watched you as you walked back to your seat and let out a huge sigh before putting your stuff back in your bag, seeing as the bell was about to ring.
He smiled to himself, realizing he was starting to develop something he never thought he would. A crush.
The bell rang signaling the class was over and you pushed yourself out of your seat, trying to avoid everyone as you left the classroom.
After that day, Jughead started to notice you everywhere.
He saw that you ate lunch under the same tree out in the yard everyday as you had your nose stuck in a book. He would notice your regular appearance at Pop’s where you would order your usual, a chocolate shake with whipped cream and a cherry.
After a few days of watching and becoming mesmerized with you, he finally decided to make a move the next day at Pop’s.
That day, after a stressful day at school, you walked over to Pop’s hoping just to relax for a little bit and throw yourself into the world of books. You took a seat in your normal booth, but as soon as you sat down, a waiter came over with your usual before walking away briskly.
“But I didn’t pay-.”
You were interrupted by someone taking a seat in front of you and stealing the cherry from your favored milkshake. “Don’t worry, I already did.” He said as he pulled the stem away from his lips and flicked it away.
You realized it was Jughead. Not knowing what to say, you just stared at him for a few seconds.
“Uh, You’re J-Jughead right?“ You asked still slightly startled and surprised that someone would pay for your food.
"Yes, let me formally introduce myself. I’m Jughead Jones the Third. But Jughead is just fine.” He said with a wry grin as he held a hand out.
You just stared at it, not knowing what to say. “Was I too forward? Yep, probably. I’m sorry, I just, I’ve noticed you around school and have taken an interest in you, so I decided to meet you.” He admitted.
Your eyebrows furrowed. “You wanted to meet me?” You asked confused. He nodded with a shrug, I find you very interesting Y/N L/N.“ He said as he leaned against the back of his chair.
You ran a hand through your hair nervously. "I-I’m not interesting. I’m boring. I don’t have any friends, unless you count my books, and no one has had a problem telling me so. Why would you find me interesting?"
You started to mess with the ends of your sleeves as you looked down at them, suddenly finding them very intriguing.
"Well, I find you fascinating. You wrote a story with your words. You obviously pay very much attention to detail. You actually like reading books which is rare nowadays. You’re very pretty might I add. What’s not to like about you?” You blushed and looked away, not wanting to embarrass yourself.
He straightened himself before speaking again.
“Well, this was a very fun talk. Let’s do it again sometime. How about tomorrow at seven? Great. See ya around.” He said before leaving, not giving you any room to talk in between. You watched walk away in shock.
You couldn’t believe someone was actually interested in you.
And it felt amazing. You weren’t going to mess this one up, because who knows how many chances like this you’d get.
Let me start by saying, it’s not what it sounds like. :P
Didn’t mean to turn this into an actual one-shot, but it just got away from me. @msmanga14 sent her request in a message, so I couldn’t post an ask, but here’s the request: How about 22 & 27? If that’s okay? 22 (tie a cherry stem with your tongue) 27 (go commando) with NaLu!
Hope you like this! Sorry it doesn’t focus a lot on the commando part, mainly the cherry stem thing. I got so carried away I almost forgot to even add that part.
Summary: Fairy Tail was known for its teamwork. So, why was Lucy surprised when Natsu asked if she wanted to work together to tie a cherry stem with their tongues? I don’t own Fairy Tail, Hiro Mashima does.
The dragon slayer tapped at his chin as if he was thinking, but judging by the glint in his eye, Lucy knew he wasn’t going to pick truth.
Lucy looked around her apartment, wondering what she could make him do. Her eyes landed on her fridge, remembering there was something she always wanted to try. ‘Maybe I should have him try first? See how hard it is…’
Getting up, Lucy made her way over to her fridge to remove a jar of cherries. She brought it over, smiling as she set it on the ground. “I want you to tie a cherry stem with your tongue.”
Natsu snorted, clearly underestimating the challenge. “Piece of cake!” He opened the jar, taking out a single cherry. Lucy watched as he popped it into his mouth, pulling out the stem as he chewed on the small fruit. After he swallowed, he put the stem back in her mouth.
Lucy didn’t bother holding back her giggles as Natsu grew more and more frustrated with the stem, his lips twisting as he moved it in his mouth, trying to maneuver it with his tongue.
She fell backwards in a fit of laughter when she saw fire coming from his mouth, the stem disintegrating in the flame. Natsu let out a roar as he picked out another cherry, trying again.
By the time Natsu went through five more cherries, Lucy was crying from laughing, her stomach cramping in the process. She couldn’t help it. Natsu looked too cute trying to tie that knot.
“H-here,” she giggled, taking a cherry for herself. “I’ll try.”
“It’s impossible,” Natsu muttered, tempted to knock the whole jar over in his aggravation. The only thing stopping him was the knowledge that Lucy would kick him if he messed up her floor… again.
Natsu turned his glare to Lucy, watching as her mouth moved, her lips pressed tightly together. His cold stare slowly faded, replaced with a lazy grin as he watched her struggle. Somehow, knowing Lucy couldn’t get it either made him feel a little better, even if that thought made him feel guilty at the same time. What could he say? Sometimes he could be a sore loser.
“You’re right, this is impossible.”
She pulled the stem from her mouth, seeing the bends along the red line. She was about to get up and throw the stem away when she froze, unsure if she heard Natsu correctly. “What did you just say?” she asked, shooting him an incredulous look.
Natsu raised a brow, as if he was wondering why she was looking at him like that. “I said, maybe we should try to work together to tie it. Isn’t teamwork our best strength?”
A/N: Heh, I know I am like four months late on MM requests. But, I take a lot of time to make sure these fics are good for you guys. This one for Jumin Han (My bae~). They wanted fluffy smut.
Jumin liked watching her sleep, he liked the way her
chest slowly rose and fell. He liked the way her hair became frizzy and flew
everywhere. But, what Jumin liked the most…. Was her pajamas. She was a fan of
shorts and a tank top, exposing the skin he would love to mark, if given the
chance. Jumin wanted everything in his life to be precise, perfect, and timed
well. It’s what made him a fantastic businessman. He didn’t want to rush what
he had with Y/N, he wanted her to be able to understand how much he cared for
her, that he was learning all he could to be the best boyfriend she could ever
Even if that meant forcing himself to be patient. When it
came to Y/N, everything flew out the window. His self-control for one thing, he
loathed how she made his body ache, his heart race, and his head muddled. One
word from her and he was ready to do anything for her. He wanted her. In every
sense of the word. He wanted her to be his. Only his. But, he was content to
wait. Like a lion teasing its prey. So, he waited, watching her sleep.
It’s days before he can fully set his plan in motion. He
is almost guilty, leaving her at home all the time. But, it only strengthens
his resolve, his need to be with her. Jumin waited all day, even going as far
as to ignore her texts. Trying to build up any sort of tension he could for
himself, some form of self-control. He knew that it made him seem like a dick.
He just didn’t care. Even Jaehee had something to say about the matter, but he
brushed her off. Jumin promptly ended his day at 5:00pm, surprising all his
colleagues and headed home. He swung the door to his penthouse open, his breath
catching as he saw her.
Y/N was sprawled out on the couch, a large novel in hand,
and Elizabeth the 3rd curled on her lap. She was engrossed in the
story, not even noticing him until Elizabeth the 3rd meowed,
signaling that Jumin had arrived home.
“Jumin, you’re home early.” She was surprised, her eyes
widening in delight. She gently shifted her weight, getting up from the couch
and walking over to him. She was so much shorter than him and it was endearing.
Y/N wrapped her arms around Jumin, his hand reaching out to stroke her hair.
“Did you see the clothes laid out for you in the
bedroom?” Jumin looked at her sweetly, Nel shook her head.
“I’ve been reading all day; I haven’t been in the
bedroom.” He kissed her forehead and chuckling. She was too cute.
“I am taking you out tonight, let’s go out to eat.” He
suggested, Y/N eyed him suspiciously. He never suggested leaving the penthouse.
Jumin preferred to do everything at home, if Y/N was with him he seemed to be
content. Either way, getting her out of the house for even a few hours would
allow the rest of his plan to be set in motion. “How about a picnic?”
“Okay?” She poised a question, confused. Though, she
would not be opposed to a night out with Jumin, she just assumed there were
ulterior motives. Jumin meant everything to her and she did love him. She
however, knew that he tended to be a little extravagant. Y/N was not someone who
liked to be spoiled, she always preferred to spend for others and expect
nothing in return. Being with Jumin challenged her comfort zone.
“Go get dressed, I’ll meet you out here in ten minutes.”
His voice was smooth like bittersweet chocolate. She nodded and retreated into
the bedroom, a beautiful dress was laid out over the bed, it was ivory in
color, with lace trim around the neck. She slipped it on and pulled her hair
into a ponytail, not sure whether he wanted her to be overly formal. The dress
seemed casual though, especially since he was suggesting a picnic. When she
remerged Jumin gave her a warm smile taking her hands in his.
“You look exquisite,” Jumin murmured, eyes searching
hers. Y/N blushed. They walked out of the penthouse, his hand never leaving
hers. His phone vibrated once, he used his other hand to check, making sure to
obscure the phone from Y/N’s view. His team had gone into the penthouse and
begun the preparations. They journeyed onward, enjoying each other’s company
until nightfall. To which he took her home.
“Jumin, you’re acting strangely.” Y/N stated looking up
at him in the car on the way home. He smiled at her and shook his head.
“I’m behaving quite normally Y/N,” He kissed her forehead
before pulling away. Y/N pursed her lips. Jumin was always overly affectionate
towards her, he was being distant… holding himself back and that concerned her.
When they returned to the penthouse Y/N was shocked at the amount of detail
that went into what was waiting. Roses strewn about the house, candles, and a
bowl of cherries. Which confused her slightly. Cherries were her favorite
fruit. Though, she had no idea the extent to what Jumin had in store for her.
Jumin gave her a coy smile, setting hi jacket down on the armchair beside her
and wrapping his arms around her shoulders. “Do you like it?”
“Jumin, it’s gorgeous.” She breathed leaning back into
his touch. “But, what’s the occasion?” Jumin picked up a cherry from the bowl
and bit the morsel, pulling the stem out and twirling it in his fingers before
discarding it. He grabbed another cherry and offered it to her. Y/N took the
cherry from him.
“I told you, everything would have had to be carefully
“What…” She trailed off confused, before she felt his
grip move to her waist. It clicked in her head then. The sudden realization
that they would both get to have each other. Be with each other. She shivered
in excitement. Jumin pushed her hair to the side nuzzling her neck and placing
a kiss on the skin there. Y/N turned to look at the taller male. A smirk graced
his lips, Y/N ran her fingers over his cheek. He leaned into her touch before
leaning down to kiss her lips softly. His hands were at her hips, lifting her
up as he walked to their bedroom.
kissed her still, trying his best to breathe through his nose and keep an eye
on where he was going. Y/N tasted of cherries and wine, his heart fluttered in
his chest and she pulled away; a gasp leaving her while her hands gripped his shoulders.
Jumin set her down gently on his bed, his hands undoing the knot on his tie.
The look on his face was predatory, though it held a softness to it as well. Y/N
swallowed thickly, watching as he kicked his loafers off and rolled the sleeves
of the navy-blue dress shirt up. Y/N had already taken her shoes off, unsure of
what to do. He seemed appeased just looking at her. She continued to watch as
Jumin removed his tie, the silky material glided off his collar and he tossed
it onto the floor.
“Do you like watching me?” He questioned, a smirk
befalling his features. Y/N nodded slowly and he chuckled at her wide-eyed
expression. She looked so pure, so innocent sitting there, lip caught between
her lip and cheeks tinged red. He reveled in the feeling, that surge of white
hot arousal that moved through his chest and down to his cock. “Will you take
off your clothes for me Y/N?” Jumin poised the question sweetly, even though it
was more of a command and she listened to him. Stripping down to her barest
form for him. Jumin nearly preened at the sight, removing his own clothes after
she did. He kneeled in front of her.
“Jumin…” Her voice was barely above a whisper and his eyes
met hers. A smile graced his face and he placed a hand on her cheek, pulling
her close to kiss her. Y/N grasped at his hair and yanked herself close to him,
tongue tracing over his lips. He slid her up the bed, lips detaching from hers
and moving along her neck and down her chest. She watched with hooded lids as
his lips ghosted down to her cunt. Y/N tipped her head back and let out a sharp
burst of air. Jumin laved at her clit, one hand sliding back up her torso to
twist at a hardened nipple. Y/N cried out hand muffling the sound and Jumin
worked that much harder to get her to come on his tongue. He drove a finger
into her slowly, working her up until she arched her back with a hoarse cry.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” Jumin rose from his position,
hand pumping his cock twice before he reached into the bedside drawer for a
condom. Y/N grabbed his hand replacing it with her own and causing him to
pause. Jumin groaned, head falling forward and Y/N pumped his cock fervently,
spreading pre-come all around the head of his cock before pulling away. Jumin
let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding in and fumbled with the
condom. Y/N laid back against the satin white sheets of their shared bed and he
nearly came from the sight alone. Jumin crawled between her spread legs,
sliding his cock up her slit, teasing her before sliding inside her.
“Jumin, move… please.” She whimpered, eyes fluttering
close. Only then did he move, rocking slowly inside her and whispering how much
he loved her into her ear. She met his slow thrusts, hands gripping his back as
she begged for him to move faster. He wasn’t going to last. Jumin acquiesced
her request, the room filled with a cacophony of sounds. Jumin’s hips roughly
slapped against her, his left hand held her hip, while his right hand moved to
toy with her clit. She tightened around him, making him cry out loudly. He didn’t
try and hide his moans, hide his pleasure as he spilled into the condom. Jumin
rolled his hips into her still, riding out his orgasm as he determinedly moved
his fingers against her clit. Y/N came with a silent scream, whole body
tensing. Jumin pulled out of her and disposed of the used condom. He brought a
warm washcloth back into the room and ran it over her skin, cleaning her up and
kissing her temple.
“I love you, I made it perfect for you.” Jumin murmured into
her skin as he curled up next to her. Their breathing soothing each other to
Summary: it’s been 45 days since he kissed her for the first time.
Notes: I literally just busted this out as a one-shot. The tense bothers me and clearly there isn’t a beta. It’s crap. But I hope you enjoy!! Happy Valentine’s Day!
It’s been 45 days since he kissed her in that emergency room with Dick Clark’s voice echoing quietly in the back of his mind….
The television had aired men brave enough to kiss their best girls on live television so surely kissing his best friend should be easier than he was making it. But even still, as the confetti fell in showers down upon the locked lipped lovebirds on the screen, the moment was upon him, and the room closed in around him.
Before he could second guess himself, he’d leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers in a kiss far more chaste than he had ever envisioned. But she was soft and warm, and his belly had burned in that delicious sensation he had all but forgotten about.
It’s been 45 days since he kissed her for the first time, and 45 days since he kissed her for the *second* time too, when he’d pressed her gently against his door frame as his keys dangled from her fingertips, and his arm had been bound in a sling.
Could he still count that one in his column if she was the one who’d instigated it, and did it really matter when it had finished with his one good hand gripping the flesh of her ass, and her soft moans filling his mouth?
It’s been 45 days since he’d kissed her for the first time, and 44 since he wiped the nervous sweat from his forehead (blaming it on the faulty heat - those damn government pipes) and asked her on a date. A proper date. With table cloths and linen napkins, and if he was lucky maybe he’d get another kiss at the end of the night.
He had been a lucky man that night…
When he cupped her face to kiss her adieu at her door, wanting to taste the sweet wine on her lips he was certain would linger there, their tongues met, and her body had seemingly melted into his. Just as he was about to ask if he could come inside, Mrs. Goodville from next door had interrupted their moment with a stern reminder: “the Holy Ghost goes to bed at midnight, Dana.”
She’d pulled away with a soft snort, and a deep blush, nervously avoiding the eyes of her busybody old neighbor as she brushed non-existent lint from his chest. When the 86 year old woman chose to remain standing in her doorway instead of leaving the two of them to resume their public display of affection, Scully had looked up at him with eyes both apologetic and disappointed, and with a long sigh, he kissed her hand and bid her goodnight.
It was only on the way home that night, that he realized his raging case of blue balls had actually been a blessing in disguise. He could court her. Woo her. He’d waited seven years, and after all of this time they were finally moving in a direction faster than continental drift. That was something. With a toss of his keys in the air, and extra skip in his step, Fox Mulder had fallen asleep that early January night with the image of her blushing cheeks in his mind, and the scent of her perfume clinging to his shirt.
It’s been 45 days since he kissed her for the first time….
…and January turned out to be busier than he had expected. Paperwork and consults had filled the normally quiet month with days spent completely apart from her. She’d gone off to consult on a triple homicide in Oahu of all places, leaving him behind in snowy, chilly Washington, and he’d caught himself lifting his head to tell her something at multiple points in the day, only to be reminded of her absence.
He’d called her one night while she was gone…and for the first time in seven years, he didn’t want to talk about work. He’d wanted to talk about her. For three hours they spoke about nothing and everything all rolled up in the little details the make her *her*.
About her favorite holiday: Christmas, obviously. Favorite dessert: mint chip ice cream. Favorite flower: yellow roses, like Nicky Arnstein gave Fannie Brice. Favorite childhood memory: vacation in the family station wagon up the coast of California. Vanilla or chocolate? Chocolate. Obviously. Silly question, Mulder. Sunrise or sunset? Depends who with. Interesting…
He’d be lying if he said his stomach hadn’t fluttered with that last one.
Softly, he’d told her that he’d like to see both with her one day. Of course he’d already seen both with her in various capacities, but this was different now…so very different.
It’s been 45 days since he kissed her for the first time, and 6 days since he’d greeted her at the airport with a dozen yellow roses, and a sheepish grin. He held her hand in the car on the way to her apartment that night, and had spent the evening curled up on the couch with a single pint of ice cream and dueling spoons, “Funny Girl” in the VCR, and maybe the promise of a sunrise together…
She’d made it to 12:24 before her eyes dropped, and she’d curled softly into his side. He told himself he’d only watch her for two minutes. Two minutes of watching her breathe deeply. Two minutes of watching her face relax as her eyelids twitched in sleep. Two minutes. Just two minutes.
At 1:17 he’d laid her carefully in her bed, pulling the covers over her exhausted body with a lingering kiss on her forehead, and the swelling words about people needing people whispering in the back of his mind.
42 days after he’d kissed her the first time, he got to kiss her again. Was it the fifth, sixth, or one-hundredth time, he couldn’t recall. With an empty bottle of wine between them, and case files strewn to the side he’d pressed her into her carpet and tasted the skin of her neck for the first time; felt the swell of her breast burn into his palm for the first time.
So many firsts still left to be discovered.
It’s been 45 days since he kissed her for the first time, and he finds himself standing in front of the display at the drug store, red and pink swarming his vision in muddled hues of brown to his color-blind eyes. The styrofoam cups balance precariously in his hand as he steps around the fray of frantic men picking over the remnants of the remaining cards, pulling the dying petals from the runt pickings that still remain in the black plastic pails.
With a knowing smile he pays the clerk for their coffee, pulling a red stemmed rose from the impulse-section at the register, and shuffles back to the running car where she greets him with a reproachful shake of her head. Girls are supposed to like red roses on Valentine’s Day, Scully.
“Mulder, Valentine’s Day is a contrived holiday by the greeting card and chocolate companies, meant to reduce the idea of romantic love to one special day full of Mylar balloons, chalky candy hearts and cheesy messages on cards,” she tells him with a lift of her brow.
He shoots her a smile as he keeps his eyes focused on the red light in front of him. “Can’t a guy buy his girlfriend a flower no matter the day?”
The light turns green. And her cheeks turn pink.
He catches her smelling the rose four times on the six minute drive back to the FBI building 45 days after he kissed her for the first time…
Can you write how bughead work out they like each other when in a AU Jason never died and he and Polly managed to run off together.
Awesome, Erika’s series of events😂
Wrapping her lips around the strawberry milkshake in front her Betty had to bite back her moan, sure her internship had been phenomenal and the memories she gained were out of this world, but she had missed Pop Tate’s more than anything , including the redheaded boy in front of her apparently.
All summer long she had dreams and plans to confess her love to Archie, to finally let him know how she felt, but sitting here across from him in the familiar old booth, she came to the harsh realization that maybe the feelings she had thought she felt were merely.. platonic. The friendship She and Archie shared was so important to her but as she sat by him and listened to him go on about his music, completely disregarding any stories she may have wanted to tell, she realized that maybe the boy next door love story was nothing but… well a story.
Looking up at Archie as he flung his hands around, she couldn’t help but smile, yes he was a little selfish and slightly scattered but that was all part of his charm, he was an amazing best friend and for the first time since she was six years old she realized that they could never be together, they would always be friends but that was all it would ever be.
Glancing behind him, she nearly choked when she caught the intense stormy blue eyes staring holes into her lips, his own tongue darting out to wet his parted lips. Jughead Jones was openly watching Betty Cooper suck on a straw,
Well hello, tall , dark and handsome.
When Jughead realized he had been caught his eyes snapped up to her own grassy green ones, his hands stopped typing immediately, before he had a chance to look away Betty figured she might as well give her childhood best friend a show.
sticking her finger into the whipped cream before her, she popped the digit into her mouth, her tongue coming out to lick up all the sugary foam, Jugheads eyes went wide and he seemed to be watching her cautiously. Upping the anti, Betty plucked the cherry from atop her shake and dropped it into her mouth, pulling the stem off before placing it back in her mouth and tying it into a ribbon, one of the many things she had learned from her bartender roommate over the summer. Betty had matured this summer, she was confident in her sexuality and she had always known how attractive Jughead was, the fact that no one else at school seemed to notice always blew her mind. Looking now into his intense, lust filled stare she realized that maybe she was glad no one had figured it out, more of the broody, articulate writer for her.
“Ya know what I mean Bets?” Archie asked from across the table, tearing her eyes away from the intense staring competition they were having.
Betty nodded politely
“Of course Arch, hey I’m gonna go say hi to Jughead, I saw the way you looked at the new girl in the cape, why don’t you go on over and tell her I’d be happy to give her a tour. Break the ice, before every guy in school is on her tail.”
Ever the perfect wing woman, Betty pat his shoulder and made her way to Jugheads booth, surprising them both when she slid in gracefully and sat across from him.
“Hi juggie, how was your summer.” She asked innocently, her foot finding his leg under the table as she ran it up his calf sensually.
With wide eyes, he glanced at Archie and then back to Betty, betty shook her head slowly
“That’s definitely over” she whispered, reading his mind
With a satisfied smirk, Jughead slid his vanilla milkshake across the table
“Welcome home bets.”
Summary: Jim x Reader x Leonard: It all started when the crew of the Enterprise took some much needed shore leave on Yorktown. On the first night, you decide to go out with Scotty, Jim and Bones to the local bar. It’s when Scotty calls it quits for the night that things took a turn for the..best? If “best” meant being in between the most handsome men on the U.S.S Enterprise. Nothing like a good ole romp in the sack with the Captain & Doctor, at least for one night. One night, right? Or will this be the best shore leave you ever had?
Warning for this part: a little breath play.
Part 1 - Midnight WhiskeyPart 2- Surprise Part 3- Beautiful Part 4- Screwed Part 5- Blind Sided Part 6- Coming
Summary: Birthday Drabble, Saeran-centric. Damaged cutie looks back on his lowkey birthday. In my Ideal World, post Secret Endings, established relationship.
Pairing: Saeran X MC
Genre: Slice of life/Fluff
Approx. 1500 words
Protip: I am sleep-deprived and did not edit this.
Saeran did it.
He had managed to dodge
his brother for almost the entire day.
It was almost midnight
when Saeran decided it was safe to return home. Sneaking around back
and deactivating various alarms before he tripped them off, the
former cult member cautiously approached the back wall where the
window to his bedroom was. It was another couple stories up, but
Saeran was no stranger to climbing walls without equipment. The
doorway and lower windows, not to mention a couple handholds he had
strategically carved between bricks for prior shenanigans, worked as
well for him as any ladder might.
As he moved a garbage
bin as silently as he could to use as an extra boost up, he thought
back on the day.
Hey Nif! I have some pure Iggy fluff for you if you’re interested lol
“Are you sure I can’t help you?” You asked, leaning over the kitchen counter. You let your elbow rest on the cool granite service and supported your head in your hands. You stared longingly at the rows of finished cupcakes already lined up on a serving plate. The icing flavors ranged from vanilla to chocolate. You were just dying to taste one.
Anything Ignis cooked or baked was an instant favorite of yours. No matter what the ingredient, you loved his meals wholeheartedly. Since you two started dating the range of food you enjoyed to eat expanded immensely. You even found yourself enjoy stranger foods that you usually stayed away from; like escargot… but only if Ignis made it for you.
His deserts were to die for. He knew you had no resistance when it came to his pastries. When Prompto left the responsibility of deserts up to Ignis for Noctis’s birthday party, you knew there was going to be trouble in your future. Of course, you were correct.
“I am quite sure,” Ignis confirmed, busying himself by stirring ingredients into a mixing bowl. The leather gloves he usually wore were still stowed away in his drawer. The sleeves of his white button up shirt were pushed past his elbows so he could work in the kitchen more efficiently without worrying about dirtying himself with ingredients. “Can I just have one?” You pleaded.
“You will be able to eat one at the party tonight,” he said firmly. “Ugh,” you groaned, pushing yourself from your position at the counter to slyly situate yourself behind your boyfrined. You wrapped your arms around him and gently pressed your right cheek against his back. “Please,” you begged, raising your voice’s pitch to bring out the sweetest voice you could muster.
Your heard his chest rumble as he chuckled at your persistence. “If you insist that you cannot wait only a few more hours until the party…” He sighed but you could hear the smile in his voice.
You nuzzled your cheek against his back. “So I can have one?” He discarded his bowl and spoon back onto the counter. He used his pale, slender fingers to remove your hands from his waist. He turned to face you and allowed you to lock your arms around him once more.
He stared down at you with his enchanting seafoam green eyes. “I find my self no longer able to tell you ‘no.’” You grinned triumphantly up at him. “Yes!” You cheered at your own success. You stood up on your tip toes to place a sweet peck onto his soft lips. Excitedly, you escaped his embrace to hurry over to the plate that displayed the numerous cupcakes. You studied each cupcake carefully, deciding on which one to pick.
Your eyes locked onto a vanilla cupcake elegantly topped with fluffy, pink, strawberry icing. A bright red cherry rested atop the frosting. Perfect, you thought. You picked up the cupcake, careful not to drop it. There is no way you were going to ruin your only chance at a sneak peak of tonight’s deserts.
You brought the treat to your lips and inhaled the scent of sugary strawberries before you allowed yourself to bight into the soft sponge of the cake. “Mmm,” you hummed, shutting your eyes. “Another great kitchen success, Iggy,” you complimented. You slowly opened your eyes and turned to look at the chef. He leaned his back agains the counter, watching you with a smirk as he crossed his arms over his lean chest.
You glanced back down at your cupcake and quickly plucked the cherry from the top. “Compliments to the chef,” you smiled proudly at him. You practically skipped to his side and held out the cherry to him.
He leaned his head down to your hand and place the cherry in his mouth while you still held onto the stem. He pulled fruit from the stem and you giggled. He sat up once he swallow and inched closer to you. You quickly discarded the stem on the kitchen counter behind you. “Darling, you have frosting on your lip,” he informed once he was only a mere centimeters from your face.
“I was saving that for later,” you teased. He smirked before gently grazing his thumb over the edge of your lip, removing the frosting and popped his thumb into his mouth, tasting the frosting for himself. With the cupcake still in hand, you leaned onto his side resting your head on his shoulder. “When did I get so lucky?” You smiled, allowing yourself another bite of the cupcake. “I was just wondering that myself.”
oh! many thanks are proffered! conceivably, perhaps a royalty anecdote, if you so desire, to dispense it to one, by way of illustration, myself and others?
The way you talk is making my day please keep talking to me.
But also let’s write a royalty AU!
As a prince, Jack had plenty of people to chose from to romance.
Almost any of the nobles’ daughters, even a few of their sons, wouldn’t hesitate to respond is Jack said anything remotely romantic to them. Any number of the maids, the kitchen staff, the women who worked in the courtyard, would swoon if Jack smiled at them, wave daintily from a window if he glanced up at them, make a point of fixing everything exactly how he liked it, anything for attention from the prince.
That was the problem, though, wasn’t it? Attention from the prince not attention from Jack. They wanted his attention not for who he was, but for what he was.
Which was why Jack, taking a lead out of one of his old books of fairy tales, had gotten his hand on some old clothes (by giving new one to the stable boy who had owned them) and found a way out (by agreeing to keep the cook’s secret stash of royal leftovers secret) to the real world.
Beyond his tiny bubble of royal life, the world was entirely different. People laughed and smiled genuinely, not just to further an agenda. When Jack talked, people ignored him and went on with their days, rather than looking at him intently with glazed over eyes, smiling and nodding to anything he said.
When he was out in the city in old clothes, when he had dirt on his face and his hair wasn’t contained in his little gold circlet, people treated him just like any other kid on the streets.
Here’s a cute fluffy Iggy drabble for you all. I hope you enjoy…. I really want strawberry frosting now. Ah.
Tagging @pocketwoman7 because we share a mighty need for some innocent Ignis fluff.
“Are you sure I can’t help you?” You asked, leaning over the kitchen counter. You let your elbow rest on the cool granite service and supported your head in your hands. You stared longingly at the rows of finished cupcakes already lined up on a serving plate. The icing flavors ranged from vanilla to chocolate. You were just dying to taste one. Anything Ignis cooked or baked was an instant favorite of yours. No matter what the ingredient, you loved his meals wholeheartedly. Since you two started dating the range of food you enjoyed to eat expanded immensely. You even found yourself enjoy stranger foods that you usually stayed away from; like escargot… but only if Ignis made it for you. His deserts were to die for. He knew you had no resistance when it came to his pastries. When Prompto left the responsibility of deserts up to Ignis for Noctis’s birthday party, you knew there was going to be trouble in your future. Of course, you were correct. “I am quite sure,” Ignis confirmed, busying himself by stirring ingredients into a mixing bowl. The leather gloves he usually wore were still stowed away in his drawer. The sleeves of his white button up shirt were pushed past his elbows so he could work in the kitchen more efficiently without worrying about dirtying himself with ingredients. “Can I just have one?” You pleaded. “You will be able to eat one at the party tonight,” he said firmly. “Ugh,” you groaned, pushing yourself from your position at the counter to slyly situate yourself behind your boyfrined. You wrapped your arms around him and gently pressed your right cheek against his back. “Please,” you begged, raising your voice’s pitch to bring out the sweetest voice you could muster. Your heard his chest rumble as he chuckled at your persistence. “If you insist that you cannot wait only a few more hours until the party…” He sighed but you could hear the smile in his voice. You nuzzled your cheek against his back. “So I can have one?” He discarded his bowl and spoon back onto the counter. He used his pale, slender fingers to remove your hands from his waist. He turned to face you and allowed you to lock your arms around him once more. He stared down at you with his enchanting seafoam green eyes. “I find my self no longer able to tell you ‘no.’” You grinned triumphantly up at him. “Yes!” You cheered at your own success. You stood up on your tip toes to place a sweet peck onto his soft lips. Excitedly, you escaped his embrace to hurry over to the plate that displayed the numerous cupcakes. You studied each cupcake carefully, deciding on which one to pick. Your eyes locked onto a vanilla cupcake elegantly topped with fluffy, pink, strawberry icing. A bright red cherry rested atop the frosting. Perfect, you thought. You picked up the cupcake, careful not to drop it. There is no way you were going to ruin your only chance at a sneak peak of tonight’s deserts. You brought the treat to your lips and inhaled the scent of sugary strawberries before you allowed yourself to bight into the soft sponge of the cake. “Mmm,” you hummed, shutting your eyes. “Another great kitchen success, Iggy,” you complimented. You slowly opened your eyes and turned to look at the chef. He leaned his back agains the counter, watching you with a smirk as he crossed his arms over his lean chest. You glanced back down at your cupcake and quickly plucked the cherry from the top. “Compliments to the chef,” you smiled proudly at him. You practically skipped to his side and held out the cherry to him. He leaned his head down to your hand and place the cherry in his mouth while you still held onto the stem. He pulled fruit from the stem and you giggled. He sat up once he swallow and inched closer to you. You quickly discarded the stem on the kitchen counter behind you. “Darling, you have frosting on your lip,” he informed once he was only a mere centimeters from your face. “I was saving that for later,” you teased. He smirked before gently grazing his thumb over the edge of your lip, removing the frosting and popped his thumb into his mouth, tasting the frosting for himself. With the cupcake still in hand, you leaned onto his side resting your head on his shoulder. “When did I get so lucky?” You smiled, allowing yourself another bite of the cupcake. “I was just wondering that myself.”
“Tell me again why this is a good idea to have them out there, and us back here?” Leia drawled, popping a couple of berries into her mouth and leaning against Cassian’s shoulder.
“Because we’re more useful as back-up. And they have a natural chemistry that is more convincing. And they look like they’re goofing off all the time and that apparently is enough of a cover now.”
Leia’s hand stilled, glass of wine half tipped to her lips.
“You could have just said we’re just following orders, Captain.
Cassian grumbled, taking the binoculars from her hands. He secured his sights on the couple again. She had no idea who that was helping, because watching Han and Jyn play at being married seemed to aggravate him beyond words, so much so that it was as though a sniper sight was trained on them.
They were dancing, filthily, Jyn being liberal with the drinks, limp fingers plucking cocktails off of passing waiter’s trays as the smuggler swung her around. Han was constantly at her ear, whispering things that made her laugh. She threw her head back and cackled unguardedly. They were all over each other, hands brushing under layers, Jyn showing off the gaudy ring her fake husband had gotten her to anyone who so much as glanced at her, Han sniffing the flowers pinned in her hair when she turned her back on him for even a minute. Cassian hadn’t pegged Jyn as a good dancer, but they had secured a pretty good jazz band for the event, - for white people, Cassian had grumbled darkly when Jyn initially pointed it out- and she was vibrant and athletic, writhing against Han, who was also deceptively good. He kept surprising her with sharp twirls, where she laughed heartily as she stumbled.
Filling the prompt “van is chilling with bond , his gf and/or the others and
he’s a bit drunk and mentions something kinky/sexual that his girlfriend is
good at like idk biting or something and then Bondy is kind of ‘pshhh whatever’
and then Van’s like 'show him’ and sort of gives his gf permission to 'show’
I think it’s a well-established fact that I am very (verrrrryyyy) into the
Van/Reader/Bondy dynamic. So, Anon, Thank you. A second thanks to @placidus.
You’re good, Isla.
Even summertime nights were too cold to spend outside. A
little after midnight, everyone retreated into the room temperature house.
Shortly after that, most people fell into ubers. Just you, Van, Bondy, and a
table of cut up fruit and jug of sangria were all that remained of the party.
Van was sitting on one couch, his legs up on the coffee table. You were laying
down, head on his thigh. Bondy was opposite you on an arm chair. All three of
you were buzzing with the wine and the happiness. You looked up and watched Van
eat a banana.
“Why'dya have to do that?” you asked him. He
looked down at you.
“What?” he asked, talking through a mouthful
of pale yellow pulp.
“Eat so much at once. You look like you’re deep
throatin’ it,” you replied. Bondy was mid-mouthful of sangria as you
spoke. He spat it out in a laugh. It covered his face, the table, and somehow
made its way to you. Van did not respond to your comment, nor Bondy’s reaction.
You sat at the end of the bar, impatiently tapping your nails against the counter as your friends continued their conversation. You’d stopped listening nearly five minutes ago, becoming uninterested in the boring topics. You hadn’t even wanted to go out tonight in the first place, and all you wanted to do was go home. Just as you debated getting up to leave, you looked up to see a guy staring at you from across the bar.
He didn’t look away when you caught him staring. In fact, he didn’t even react at all. He continued looking at you as you looked at him, a small smirk pulling across his lips. “Great,” you thought to yourself. You’d been dying to go home all night, and now some stranger was eye fucking you from the other end of the counter. His attention was torn away from you as one of his friends began to talk to him, causing him to turn away.
You took this opportunity to examine each one of his features, failing to find a single flaw. His chocolate brown hair formed perfect, soft curls that you found yourself wishing you could run your fingers through. His cheekbones were prominent, but not nearly as prominent as his impeccable jaw. His cheeks were a bit flushed from a combination of the warm air filling the mellow bar and the alcohol he had consumed. Maybe he wasn’t so bad.
He turned to look at you once his friend ended their conversation, cocking an eyebrow when he saw that you were already looking at him. You returned the smirk he’d given you earlier, turning your back to him as you pretended to be interested in your friends’ conversation again.
A few moments later you felt a tap on your shoulder, making you turn around. Your gaze was met with the bartender, a Mai Tai in his hand.
“Oh, I didn’t order a drink,” you smiled, trying your best to be polite.
“It’s from the gentleman in the blue and white stripped shirt,” he said, pointing over his shoulder. You looked in the direction his thumb was pointing to be met with none other than a familiar pair of brown eyes.
You bite the inside of your cheek as you tried not to smile, taking the drink from the bartender. The man across the bar watched as you took your first sip, his eyes settled on your lips as they parted around the rim of the glass.
Time passed as you downed your drink, trying to keep your attention focused on anything but the handsome stranger across from you. Once your glass was empty you reached into it and pulled out the cherry, bringing it up to your mouth.
You placed the cherry between your lips, making eye contact with the stranger as you pulled it off the stem. He arched an eyebrow as you placed the stem into your mouth, beginning to tie it with your tongue.
In a matter of seconds you stuck out your tongue, taking the perfectly tied stem out of your mouth. You gave him a triumphant smirk as he watched you from across the long counter, his lips slighted parted as his gaze focused on the tightly tied stem.
Feeling a surge of confidence, you hopped off the bar stool and made your way over to him. You smoothed down the fabric of your tight dress as he swiveled around on the stool, turning to face you.
“Thanks for the drink,” you said, nodding to the empty glass you’d left at your seat.
“It was my pleasure,” he replied, taking a sip of his rum and coke.
You took a seat on the empty stool beside him, which had been abandoned when his group of friends moved into a booth earlier in the night.
“So,” he began, setting his drink down on the counter, “that was a neat trick,” he grinned.
“Oh, that? It’s nothing,” you chuckled.
He licked his lips before he spoke, his gaze fixated on your eyes. “Think you could teach me how?”
You smirked as you took his hand in yours, leading him to an empty booth in the back corner of the bar. You pulled him in beside you, sitting together on the small seat.
You teasingly rested your hand on his thigh, turning to face him.
“It’s all in the tongue,” you said, leaning in closer to his face. Your lips were inches away from brushing against his, his breath hitched in the back of his throat.
You brought a cherry that you had grabbed up to his mouth, placing it between his lips. He sucked the cherry off of the stem, watching as you placed the stem into your mouth. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from your lips as you swirled the stem around in your mouth, tying it into a knot.
“See?” you asked, removing it from between your teeth and placing it on the cocktail napkin on the table.
He suddenly leaned in and pressed his lips to yours, becoming less hesitant when you kissed back. You brought a hand up to run through the hair at the nape of his neck, his hands flying down to hold your waist. His teeth grazed against your bottom lip teasingly before he pulled it into his mouth and sucked on it. As your fingertips traced soft circles on the inside of his thigh a soft whimper left his lips, giving you another boost of confidence. He pulled apart from you breathlessly and rested his forehead against yours.
“Do you want to get out of here?”
You nodded eagerly, letting him take your hand and lead you out of the bar.
Filling the prompt “I was wondering if you could write something about like a first "sexual” encounter with Van (doesn’t have to be sex) where it’s a little awkward but cute?“
Van’s laugh broke in the middle. It cracked liked he was sick and losing his voice, but he wasn’t. It was just the sound he made whenever he was happy or up to no good. In the store room of the bar he was about to play a show in, both of those things were to transpire. He was happy from the moment he saw you. You had walked into the venue in your Ginger Spice costume and he’d spotted you straight away. He’d followed you around for an entire hour before you told him your name. He introduced himself to your friends and said that Scary Spice had the best outfit. She’d gone to a lot of effort with the hair. They liked him and encouraged you to let him buy you a drink. You did, and it set a precedent. Every time you went to the bar Van would appear and pay, even if you were buying for friends.
As he explained why he wasn’t in a 1990s inspired costume for the night (he was going to through in a few covers from the decade into his band’s set instead), you watched his hands move through the air. You started to suspect you were on your way to being very fucking drunk when you couldn’t stop looking at the ridge of his knuckles. That’s when you noticed that laugh, too. "Do you think they have them little glazed cherries?” you asked, hit with a sudden need for something sweet, something to put in your mouth. A smirk grew on his face and he stood up. Hand in hand you followed him through a door marked ‘employees only.’ Down a cold concrete hallway, he stopped in front of the storeroom.
The past fifteen weeks have been stuffed full of silence. Dean’s not sure how to break it. They’re trapped in a fragile glass bubble, and if he chooses to pop it, they’ll be worse off.
Nothing makes the situation any better. He’s never felt more restless in his life. They tear up miles of highway, and never sit still for more than a couple of days, but stagnancy is creeping up on Dean, making the little hairs on the back of his neck itch.
The worst part about it all is how awkward he feels with Sam. They’re not strangers, never have been, but this kind of grief… Dean can’t understand, can’t touch it. If only Dad were here, he thinks for the millionth time, maybe he could help Sam cope.
Every time he wishes for an easy way to help Sam he wants to deck himself. Of course it’s not easy. Loss is ever easy. Their entire life is underscored by that exact damn sentence.