shimmery dress

A Little Late

Originally posted by unchxxrted

Request: If this is ok, can I also ask about Harry Hook x Reader based on that dialogue: - I’m not acting like a good boy if you wearing this at the party - It’s a ball - Whatever - …Is that a promise? - It is - Well, then I’m definitely wearing this at the ball (I hope you don’t mind that I couldn’t include the last few quotes, I’m really sorry bout that!)
Rating: T (Borderline smut)
Warnings: Swearing and implied smut (KIDS LOOK AWAY)
A/N: This is the first SORTA suggestive fic that I’ve ever made, so I hope you guys like it! @pizzaplanethq @blog-lady-vi


Your new home, Auradon, wasn’t as bad as you thought. Sure, there was the occasional pretentious douche, but most of the students at Auradon Prep were very nice and understanding.

Some were a little too nice and understanding to your boyfriend, Harry.

Of course, the princesses and fairies at Auradon Prep immediately took a liking to Harry, supposedly falling for the “bad boy” act. And like a smooth “bad boy” he was, he took all the attention in, smiling smugly at all his new fans. Sometimes you felt the urge to knock that smirk off his face, but then his obsessive posse of fangirls would probably hunt you down, regardless of you being his significant other.

After the Cotillion, more dances or similar types of events were scheduled. Apparently the people in Auradon get really excited about getting dressed for a night and dancing the night away. You couldn’t blame them, you fell in love with the glitz and glamour right away.

Auradon wasn’t cheap on ballroom dances, that’s for sure.

Tonight, for the second time of the week, another dance was planned by Fairy Godmother for King Ben. “You could never have enough parties!” The woman would say as she set off to organize another big-budget extravaganza.

To be honest, your feet were sore from all the dances, but the excessive amount of food lured you in. As long as there was free food involved, you were in.

Unfortunately, Harry didn’t feel the same. He was still trying to get used to all the fanciness and frivoloties of Auradon and after just one dance, he was spent.

Your boyfriend whined from the bed, groaning as you tried to make him put on a tuxedo. He absolutely despised these events. “Why can’t we just stay in bed? I’m pretty sure the loud music made me deaf.”

Rolling your eyes, you set the suit aside and gave up on trying to force him to wear it. You crossed your arms, walking away from him and hoping he’ll take the bait. “Fine… maybe I’ll just go dance with Chad instead. He surely won’t mind anyway.”

After a moment or two, Harry sighed. “I’ll get changed.”

You let out a cheer, celebrating for getting Harry to give in. You gave him a hug, excited and happy that he was going. “Thank you!”

“You’re lucky I love you.” Harry lazily grabbed the suit, heading for the bathroom to get dressed. Meanwhile, you eyed your closet. The past week, you and Evie had been scouring through fabrics and new clothes, trying to find the perfect dress. And you did.

Harry’s heart would probably stop if he saw what you were wearing to the dance.

Smirking, you grabbed the shimmery dress off the closet and started getting changed, thinking of how Harry would react if he saw it. Man, he would probably reject going to the dance altogether. But that was the best part.

Finally, as you added in the final touches to the dress and fixed your makeup, you smiled at your look. The dress accented your figure and made your eyes pop, making you look even more gorgeous than you already were. Man, you were gonna make some heads roll tonight.

“I’m not acting like a good boy if you’re wearing this at that stuffy party.” Harry spoke from the doorway, leaning against it as he took in your appearance. His eyes were obviously darkened, and there was something in his eyes that made you weak in the knees. This night wasn’t gonna last as long as you thought.

“It’s a ball, not a party.” You corrected him, swallowing the lump in your throat. You knew from the look in his eyes that he would rather not go to the ball. You were afraid to find out what he wanted to do instead, but at the same time as equally excited.

He rolled his eyes, moving closer to you and staring at you as you looked at yourself in the mirror. “Whatever. Why don’t we just stay here, hm? I’m sure we could figure something else out that’s way more fun…”

You chuckled, lightly shoving him away. “I worked hard on this dress, I am not having it destroyed or ripped apart so soon. Besides, if you go to the dance, I’ll make sure we’ll do the thing you want to do right after.”

“Is that a promise?”

“It is.”

“But wouldn’t you rather do that thing now?” He trailed off, walking away as you absorbed what he was offering. It was very tempting… but the others would wonder where you were. You sighed. There were plenty other balls and dances this season… surely being a little late wouldn’t make a difference.

Needless to say, you didn’t make it to the ball.

Have You Ever Seen a Man Break

Request: “Part 2 of Have you seen a heart shatter please!! It was so beautifully heart breaking oml we need a happy ending;_;” among other sweet reblogs and messages from all of you :)

Word Count: 2,521

Pairing: Newt x Reader

Requested by many. This is the sequel to Have You Ever Seen a Heart Shatter. Here is Part 3 to the series.

Requests are currently open! Feel free to send one in


Wind chimes dance and ring against one another in the slight breeze. You latch the screen door behind you and step onto the front porch, glass of iced tea slipping between your fingers, drips of condensation roll down the side of the glass and burst against the red wood beneath your feet. Songbirds chirp in the nearby bushes, passing news of some new visitor rumbling past the house in a flawless black vehicle.

You fall onto the two-person porch swing and pull your knees up as the world rambles on around you and the lazy birds. The smell of orchids and freshly turned dirt float by as another short gust of wind sends the wind chime tinkling again. The evening summer sun rains down onto you, warming your cold bones, loosening your tense shoulders.

A sigh drifts out of your mouth as you tilt your head back and close your eyes. Who knew the south could be so peaceful?

Cicadas buzz in the fields across the road as another car thunders past and spits pebbles out everywhere. The entire world is at peace here and has been since you arrived eight days before.

The only missing piece is Newt’s laugh. Which, you remind yourself before the tears can nip at your eyelids, you are perfectly okay with never hearing again.

“Get up.”

“Can’t you see I’m busy, Rosa?”

Your little sister wraps her bony hand around your wrist and tries to jerk you forward. “I’m serious. Get up.”

You pull your arm from her grip and frown. “Are you okay?”

“No. We need to go. Now.”

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Nyx-Chapter 2

Summary: Nyx was an ancient deity usually envisaged as the very substance of the night–a veil of dark mists drawn across the sky to obscure the light of Aither, the shining blue of the heavens. Her opposite number was Hemera (Day) who scattered the mists of night at dawn. she was doomed to walk the earth in search of her consort Erebus.

Warnings: My usual. Angst, Violence And Smut

Pairings: Bucky X Reader, Avengers x Reader

The years had passed quickly, blurring into a whirl of golden halls and feasts.

Frigga had been most accommodating, giving you a place in the royal household and title as Princess.

The announcement had Loki giggling for days. “You are a Primordial Goddess, the personification of night and darkness, yet you preen at the notion of being a princess?” He laughs uproariously as you tsked at him, gathering the shimmery silver dress in your hands, ready to launch yourself at him. “Erebus and those pesky children of yours must not have known how to treat a Queen,” he quips. The smile falls from his face as he realizes what he’s  said. True to Loki’s nature he does not apologize, he merely grimaces at you, the apology written in his eyes.

Keep reading

6

If you’re going to tell me that Gamzee Makara–the troll who carries around glittery special stardust to throw in their own face at periodic intervals–wouldn’t actively try to glue as many sparkly things to their face as possible, you’re wrong and I’ll fight you.

Steampunk Femzee debut, Katsucon XXI 2015

Femzee | Karkat | Photographer

lezbianxion  asked:

prompt: jimon + childhood friends AU !! always like those, and i always wonder how that would like... impact jace and simon if they had been childhood friends from the start

best friends for a long time is my ultimate weakness <3

“Hey.” Jace says, inviting himself into Simon’s room and sprawling onto his desk chair. “‘Sup?”

Simon’s lying on his bed, earphones half in, and he glares at Jace as hard as he can - which isn’t much, given the fact that his mind is currently drowning in sorrow, and he just wants to curl up and die.

“Don’t pretend like you didn’t hear what happened. You’re here to gloat, aren’t you?” Simon snaps, and Jace shrugs. 

“I told you in fifth grade that that dude was bad news, it’s been seven years since then.” Jace reminds him. He’s looking at Simon’s posters now, not even looking at him as he says, softly, “You didn’t even think about listening to me.” 

“Sorry, yeah,” Simon bites out, “except he was the only one who invited me to prom and unlike you, I don’t have dates just lined up? So I can’t afford to be picky - “

“Will you shut the fuck up?” Jace says, exasperated, and Simon sits up in bed, furious, when Jace continues, “You would never let any one of us say that about ourselves, but you can say that about yourself? Anyone would be lucky to have you, Simon, you can’t settle.” 

Simon’s stunned into a furious silence, glaring petulantly at Jace, because Jace is right, and he hates that, hates that Jace knows him almost as well as Clary. And this boy, with his infuriatingly gorgeous body is nice to Simon in his own way, surprisingly sweet, and fuck it’s just not fair and it doesn’t help Simon get over the feelings he’s had for Jace for years. 

“Whatever.” Simon sighs, and flops back into bed. 

“I’m right, aren’t I?” Jace asks, and Simon rolls away from him so he doesn’t have to look at Jace sitting in his room like he belongs there. 

“You always are.” Simon says dully. 

There’s silence, and then the sound of Jace moving, the bed dipping as he sits near Simon. A tentative hand comes up to stroke his back, Jace’s long fingers burning a path through the thin material of Simon’s shirt. 

“You’ll be okay.” Jace says quietly. “You will.” 

“Like I was okay in middle school when Georgie Chen dumped her juice all over me for not being a cool enough date to the movies?” Simon asks wryly, and he hears Jace laugh, the small, throaty one that makes little dimples appear in Jace’s cheeks. 

“If I’m remembering correctly, I also dumped my juice over Georgie Chen for that, so I think that went fine.” Jace remarks, and Simon smiles at that, shaking his head as he sits up, sitting cross-legged on the bed and facing Jace. 

“Yeah, but that cemented your popularity. ‘Ooooh, I’m Jace Herondale, I’m too cool for the cool kids, I wore tiny leather jackets when I was in elementary school and my hair swishes in the wind like I’m in a commercial - “ Simon sings, adopting a falsetto and ducking as Jace throws a pillow at him, laughing. 

I’m Simon Lewis,” Jace says, deepening his voice and turning his nose up, “I corrected the math teacher in ninth grade and now I’m the math nerd and I know ever single Nicolas Cage movie like nobody’s business but I like to wear graphic tees and pretend I’m a punk rocker - “

“I’m a superstar and you know it.” Simon says, making finger guns. 

“Damn, and we’re all just along for the ride.” Jace says, propping his chin up in his hands and looking at Simon fondly. Simon grins, because Jace is his best friend, and maybe prom didn’t work out, but - he still has this, still gets this side of Jace that no one else gets to see. And that’s enough for him. 

.

Three weeks later, his phone shrilly and insistently rings, rousing him from his Brooklyn 99 marathon on prom night. He blinks down at the caller ID, frowning as he picks up. 

“Hey,” he greets Clary, “shouldn’t you be getting read to go to prom, Fray? Izzy’s picking you up soon, isn’t she?” 

Yes.” Clary says, and she sounds like she’s out of breath and running. “But change of plans, I’m getting ready at your house.” 

“Uh - “ Simon says, but then his front door rings and he slowly pauses the episode on his laptop as his sister goes to get it. 

“Clary?” Rebecca’s surprised voice echoes. Simon jumps up and runs to the front door, where he sees Clary lugging a huge duffel bag and two large dry-cleaning bags, whispering furiously to Rebecca. “Oh my god - yes, I approve - Mom’s not here - well, I’ll just do all the - yes, I love this plan!”

“What plan?” Simon asks immediately, narrowing his eyes at his sister and his best friend. “Don’t like the collusion that’s going on here, no, nope, betrayed by my very best friend in my house, under my roof - “

“No time for yapping, Simon.” Rebecca says impatiently, one hand on her hip as she makes a shooing motion. 

“She’s right.” Clary hums as she dumps the dry cleaning in his hands and tugs on his hands. “Come on, we’re already behind schedule.”

“Behind - what?” Simon asks, bewildered, as he follows her to his room. She throws the duffel on his bed and takes one of the bags, the plastic riding up to reveal the shimmery green dress he helped her pick out. “Clary, what?” He repeats helplessly. 

“You’re going to prom.” Clary says, beaming at him. “There’s someone that’s wanted for a very long time to go with you, and in a burst of bravery - and pain, because someone slapped some sense into them - they’ve decided to use the tickets they bought for the two of you and take you to prom!” 

“Who - what - you slapped someone into going to prom with me?” Simon blinks, feeling like he’s rapidly losing control of the situation. 

“Not me.” Clary says airily. “Though I wish I had. I promise its a good date, you’re definitely going to like it. Now go change into your suit, please.” 

Suit - “ Simon looks at the bag in his hands and slides the plastic up, revealing midnight-blue fabric. “Holy shit this is way out of my price range, where’d you get this?” 

“Magnus, of course. Raphael picked it out from Magnus’ selection.” Clary answers. She pauses, and then very seriously takes Simon’s hand. 

“Hey,” she says quietly, “trust me, okay? This person really likes you, and all of us think that they’ll be good for you. You’ll like them. Let me help you get ready?” 

“All of you guys?” Simon swallows. “Even Jace approves?” 

Jace, who’s notoriously hard to please; Jace, who’s obnoxiously insulted everyone who’s looked twice at Simon; Jace, who’s quietly helped Simon through every disappointment and made Simon fall harder and harder for him - 

“Even Jace.” Clary smiles. “Ready?” 

Simon’s silent for a second, looking at the suit and thinking about how even if it’s not with Jace, he deserves to be happy. Maybe he should give this mysterious suitor a chance. 

“Alright.” He answers finally, and can’t help but smile in response to Clary beaming at him. “Alright, alright, you win, Fray!” 

“Damn right I do!” She says, pleased with herself. “Now go.” 

Clary manages to get him and herself ready in record time, and they’re both dressed, hair styled, in less than forty minutes. Simon stares at the person in the mirror, and can’t quite believe it’s him. The suit fits like a dream, makes his legs look longer and his torso broader. Logically, he knows he’s not bad-looking, but the suit makes it much easier to feel that way too. He looks at his carefully coiffed hair, and he nods, sliding his glasses off. 

What are you doing?” Clary asks, slipping into her heels and fixing one of her earrings on. She looks gorgeous, impeccable in her makeup and curls, and Simon’s not sure what black magic she worked to get herself ready at the same time. “Keep your glasses on.”

“I look better with contacts?” Simon asks more than he says. He’s pretty sure that was the consensus among his friends. Clary shakes her head, smiling. 

“This person specifically told me to make sure you didn’t take them off, because - and I quote - they’re a part of you.” She says, and Simon can’t breathe for a long second, because that’s just about the most damn beautiful thing he’s ever heard, and it makes him feel like he could fly. 

“Okay,” he croaks out, sliding his glasses back on, “okay, this person’s a romantic.” 

“Hey,” Rebecca sticks her head into his room, “they’re all here, Simon’s date is ready.” 

“Finally.” Clary grabs her purse and moves to the door. “I’m gonna go out first, and you can follow right after, yeah?”

“Okay.” Simon says, his mouth suddenly dry and his hands clammy. Clary squeezes his shoulder before she takes off, and he’s left with just Rebecca. 

“Becks.” He says weakly, gesturing to himself. “I - “

“You look good, Si.” She says softly, smiling sadly at him. “You look just like Dad, you know. Except for the nose.” She taps his nose. “That’s Mom all the way.”

“Aw, Becks.” He says, flushing. 

“Don’t get sappy on me now.” She teases, and then she gestures to the hallway. “Well? Go find your date.” 

Simon nods, and bites his lips as he moves to the front door. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath with his hand on the door handle. 

This is going to be fine. This is going to be fine

He opens the door and looks out into the night; the path to the front door is lit brightly by the front porch lamp, white light glowing softly around a figure with soft blonde hair and unbearably adoring blue-brown eyes. 

“Hey,” Jace says, holding out a rose to Simon, a blinding smile on his face as he looks at Simon, “wanna go to prom with me?” 

Jace?” Simon croaks out, taking the rose numbly, his mind not quite comprehending. 

“I got it on very good authority that all the time I was pining, it wasn’t actually as hopeless as I thought? So, uh,” he gestures to Simon, “I wanted to give you the prom you deserve. And I want to - try to be the boyfriend you deserve. If you’d let me.” 

Jace is wearing a black suit with a tie to match Simon’s, his eyes hopeful and sincere. He looks good, like a dream out of some fairy tale, and more importantly - 

He’s the boy that hit Simon in the face with a basketball in fourth grade and then led him around school for the rest of the day, holding his hand, because Simon couldn’t see out of his swollen eye; he’s the boy that taught Simon how to play the guitar in middle school and encouraged him to try for his first gig; he’s the boy that stood by Simon through everything. Simon’s never felt this way about anyone. 

Heart in his throat, he steps forward and curls his fingers in Jace’s tie and yanks him forward, kissing him on the porch, slow and sweet as the crickets chirp around them. 

.

Six years later, Jace leads him on a walk through his old neighborhood. 

“Hey.” Simon says, nudging him as Jace shivers. “You’re thinking too hard.” He reaches over and tightens Jace’s scarf around his neck, his fingers lingering against the underside of Jace’s jaw. 

“You don’t think enough.” Jace responds, smirking, as he catches Simon’s wrist and tangles their fingers together, squeezing reassuringly. Simon hums and drives his foot down against a pile of dry leaves, relishing in the crunch that sounds from it. 

“Did you remember to drop the truck off at the mechanic?” Simon asks absently. Jace’s coffee truck is doing well enough to have expanded into two more trucks, run by his employees. 

“Yeah.” Jace abruptly stops, turning to look at Simon. “Hey, remember this wall?” 

Simon looks at it and laughs. It’s a little alley tucked away behind the driveways of the houses, and it’s got graffiti from the generations of kids that have lived there; Rebecca and her friends are by Simon and Clary’s heart with their initials in it, Jace’s barely legible scrawl across it all, with Izzy and Alec beneath that.

“I was so angry when you wrote over our names.” Simon recalls, and he squats down and traces over the heart he and Clary drew over their names when they were eleven. “Here Clary and I were, promising to marry each other when we grew up, and you just came in and scribbled all over it.”

“I was jealous.” Jace laughs a little. “I wanted to have all your attention, and instead she got it.” 

“You always had my attention.” Simon stands up and smiles at Jace, who grins and hooks his hands in Simon’s pockets to bring him closer, walking him backwards at the same time until they’re pressing against the wall, kissing softly. 

They break apart when they hear a car passing by, and make the trek to the Lewis house, bumping shoulders. 

“You think I can go back and scribble the heart out even more?” Jace wonders as they climb the front steps. “I don’t want our kids to one day find that Aunt Clary and Dad had a heart thing going on.” 

“Our kids?” Simon grins, something warm and soft fluttering in his chest. Jace looks at him like he’s the stupid one. 

“Of course.” Jace says. “I’ve had you for thirteen years, Lewis, you think I’m ever going to let you go now? Is it not obvious that you’re stuck with me?” 

“It is.” Simon kisses him again, quick and chaste, before he rings the bell, his heart swelling. “It is.” 

.

That night, before they go back home to the apartment, they add a postscript to the graffiti heart: 

P.S. - JH + SL Forever

She’s Perfect

Originally posted by anatheowl


Request from Anon : Hi I was wondering if you could write something about a Metamorphi magi! reader x Newt? They meet for the first time at Tina’s and Queenie’s apartment and the reader finds Newt attractive and her hair changes red (its normally brown) and Newt wonders what the color means.

Word Count : 2823

Part 1 : You’re Different
Part 2 : She’s Beautiful

A/N : I’m alive! Haha I’m so sorry about the delay guys, I hope you like it! 
Something to keep  in mind though, I switch between POVs a little bit in here, it’s mainly Newt with a sprinkle of Y/N. 
Oh and if you’re wondering why her hair keeps changing different colors, I thought I’d use the color to represent how she’s feeling/thinking so here’s a little cheat sheet : 
Auburn Brown - Newt (LOL)
Grey - confusion
Blonde - caution
Red - love


Newt looked back at his friends utterly confused and slightly hurt about what just happened. Jacob equally as confused as Newt, he was having a nice conversation with Y/N when the mood turned sour. Maybe he was talking about himself too much.

Queenie placed a hand on his knee and gave him a reassuring smile. “It wasn’t you, honey.”

“Then what was?” Newt looked at her with determination in his eyes. He wanted to set this right but he needed to know what he’d be apologizing for first. He turned to Queenie because he knew that she’d have the answers to his dilemma. Being a legilimens, she must have heard Y/N’s thoughts. “Please…I need to know.”

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Prince For Hire

Alfred would do anything to make his daughter happy, and by the looks of the cute prince there might be something in it for him as well. Usuk. //

Alfred always tried his best to be a good single father. Perhaps this was because of the opposition he faced, the court dates he had to go through, and the awful letters he’d received from his ex-wife’s family. He’d gotten most of the time with his daughter Amelia, against the odds. He had her all week, and she only spent weekends with her mother.

Still, he always felt like he was being judged on his parenting capabilities, so when Amelia requested to have Disney characters attend her birthday party, Alfred was quick to say yes. He’d themed her whole party around the arrival of the princess and prince, from choosing the color of the streamers to the flavor of the cake. The balloons had princesses on them too, and messages like ‘Happy Seventh Birthday!’ The event was held in the backyard, and Alfred had set up party games and played Disney songs from a CD player.

Amelia had lots of friends, she was an energetic and friendly little girl, so it was easy for her. The backyard was crowded with roughly twenty kids, boys and girls alike. There was a huge stack of presents next to the cake, the most colorful one being from Alfred himself.

At promptly two-thirty, The 'carriage’ pulled into the driveway. What it truly was was a large van with princesses painted on the sides, and a phone number underneath. The doors opened, and two people stepped out. One was a woman with styled, golden hair, and a shimmery pink dress that faded to blue on the bottom. She had a small, simple crown on her head and elegant makeup.

Amelia had looked on the website, and chosen Princess Aurora and Prince Philip duo. Speaking of which, 'Philip’ stepped out of the driver’s side, adjusting his red cap. He was short, and slender, with dyed brown hair curled a bit messily. He had quite a bit of makeup on himself, to resemble the character. His eyes weren’t the accurate brown, though, they were vivid and green, which in Alfred’s opinion was an improvement on the character’s design.

Alfred approached the two, shaking their hands and introducing himself. “Hey, right on time!” He smiled, and 'Philip’ nodded.

“We are always on time, sir, wouldn’t want to disappoint the birthday girl. Amelia, was it?” He answered.

Alfred nodded. “Yeah, yeah, Amelia- hey, your accent’s pretty good!” The prince for hire had a strong English accent, and although Alfred couldn’t remember whether Philip spoke like that or not, it was a nice touch. The Prince gave a half-amused snort but didn’t say anything more. He and the princess adjusted their makeup in the back of the van, then went into the backyard, smiling and waving happily.

The children were quick to flock to them, all chattering excitedly. Most of the attention was on the princess, which was to be expected. 'Philip’ kept his friendly demeanor, helping himself to a small paper cup of fruit punch, leaning back against the house.

Alfred watched him from a distance, stomach in knots. Costume or not, the prince for hire was cute, at least, he was cute in his makeup. Alfred was sure he was good looking with or without it, though, and after gathering a bit of confidence, he walked over.

“Hey there!” He greeted, the prince nodded his head in reply.

“Hello there sir. Your daughter looks like she’s having a good time, doesn’t she? I’m glad.” He smiled, but not the pretend prince smile. It was genuine, like he actually was happy for Amelia. Alfred leaned on the wall beside him, clearing his throat.

“So, uh, what’s your real name, anyway?”

“As long as I’m here, It’s Philip.” The prince replied, chuckling. “Sorry, but, I’ve gotten scolded by parents before, for 'shattering the illusion’ or something like that. Parents are sometimes quite…micromanaging. I mean, I understand that it’s your child’s birthday, but, if one more frantic mother tries to adjust my shirt..” He chuckled, and Alfred smiled, laughing under his breath.

“Ah, I mean, you don’t gotta worry about that with me, and um, you don’t have to keep up the act. Must be annoying to have to keep doing that accent.” Alfred nudged his shoulder.

“I’m afraid that’s how I actually talk, Mr. Jones.”

“Oh! Cool!”

——

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The Dominatrix | Na Yeon (TWICE)

The Dominatrix | Na Yeon (TWICE)


word count: 3.3k
genre: smut
warnings: dom/sub themes, public sex, car sex



“You did what?” You nearly shout causing the soda you’d been drinking to dribble down your chin in a frothy cascade. This had started as a nice outing with your friends to kickstart your birthday celebrations, but it took a tailspin once they revealed what they’d decided on for your present. A gift card or book would’ve sufficed; you’re not a very high maintenance person when it comes to these things. No, they decided to dust off a tidbit of information you’d dumbly leaked during a drinking contest a few weeks ago. While your throat burned and mind was cloudy from way too much of whatever happened to end up in your shot glass you’d spilled a fantasy about being a submissive to some crazy dominatrix, but that was all it was: a fantasy. These two people you’d thought were your friends have decided to pounce on your words and signed you away to the dominatrix. She’s known throughout most of the city and runs a highly-profitable business, even employs a few understudies, but you hadn’t put much thought into what she could do. Until now.

Your friends don’t seem to share in your fear. They simply laugh at your explosive reaction like they would a joke, but you were genuinely in shock. Out of all the hair brained ideas they’ve come up with through the years–there were a lot–this one takes the cake as your least favorite. You’d take the one time So Mi crashed her car into a river to get some quick money off her insurance over this. Even all the anxiety from being an accessory to insurance fraud would be better than this.

“You did what for my birthday?” You demand again, swiping at your chin to remove the sticky soda residue. Maybe you’d heard them wrong. Yeah, that had to be it. So Mi and Mi You would never do something this crazy.

“Thank us later,” So Mi laughs. Okay, maybe they would. You pout across the table at them. You won’t even deem her response logical enough to respond to. Instead, you pick a piece of meat off your plate and pop it in your mouth. It tastes fine, but you’re positive your expression mirrors nothing but displeasure. The more you think about it the more anxious you get. You most certainly will not be thanking them for this. They had all but signed your death certificate! If she doesn’t kill you then the anxiety-induced heart attack will get the job done.

“Oh, don’t look like that, [Name]-ah.” Mi You chimes in. “You’re the one that told us you wanted to try out being a sub to someone for a night. We just fulfilled that wish.”

“Yeah, but I was drunk! And you’re just second-handedly murdering me by loaning me to the best dominatrix in the city! She’s the real deal, y’know! She’ll eat me alive!”

“I bet she’ll eat something.” So Mi says coyly as she sips her own drink. You resist the urge to tip it up so it spills all over her.

“Honestly, [Name], calm down. You know she won’t actually kill you. And for all you know, you could enjoy it.” She gives you a saucy wink before handing you a folder. It’s unmarked and you’re afraid to open it. Mi You rolls her eyes and takes it from you, opening it and handed you the slim stack of papers. It’s a contract with two spots for signatures at the bottom. One is already signed with the neat script of Im Na Yeon.

“She’s already approved you, all you need to do is show up.” So Mi informs you, holding out a pen for you to sign your name as she knows you inevitably will. You know with such a touchy subject you probably should read through all the fine print, but you know it will only serve as a way to scare you out of it if you read half the things she could do to you, so, against all better judgement, you take the pen and sign your name.


You’d let Mi You hold onto the contract for the rest of the day so you wouldn’t be tempted to tear it to bits and burn the shreds. Instead, you focus on the list that apparently accompanied your contract which dictated every single thing you need to do in order to prepare yourself for Na Yeon, right down to the color and length of your dress. Now you stand in front of a swanky club in a tight, shimmery white dress that falls exactly two inches under your butt. You’re tempted to tug at them hem, not being used to such short outfits but So Mi had gone through five stores to find a dress that was the exact length and wasn’t going to move on you in the slightest. Damn them for being so thorough with the planning. Had you been in charge of this yourself everything would’ve been screwed up. You’d somehow manage to end up in a floor-length, green gown.

You shiver as the line slowly inches along though it’s unseasonably warm out tonight. It could be the fact that your dress could be used as a napkin or that your nerves are coming back to life as you near the entrance. Several people are sent away with angry looks on their face, most looking young enough to still be in high school, and you fear that somehow the seemingly meticulous Na Yeon could have forgotten to get your name on the list. The thought makes you slightly elated. Your mind is soothed at the thought of turning in early and putting this crash course adventure behind you to be a memory you laugh at for years to come, but now you stand in front of the bouncer.

He’s so stereotypical it looks as though they copy and pasted him from an action noir film, from his intimidating height to the all black attire, he looks so funny you find yourself giggling. It relieves some of the pent up stress and you easily give him your name. He glances over a few pages of the list before waving you inside. The giddiness magnifies as you step into the club. The atmosphere is muted and sensual. All the flashing neon lights have been replaced with dimmed fluorescent lamps, leaving the whole place in near darkness. You wind your way through the maze of grinding bodies until you reach the back wall where a few booths sit uninhabited. Before you can move to occupy the one seated in the corner, away from most people and nearly black in its isolation; you feel eyes burning into the top of your head.

Glancing upwards, your gaze falls on the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen: Im Na Yeon. The profile picture she has on her website does her face no justice. Her eyes alone have you melting into the floor. She appraises you as well from the second floor balcony, drinking in the skin that your strapless dress leaves exposed. You’re not sure if she’s looking at you because she knows you’re here for her or if you’ve genuinely caught her attention and the prospect has you smirking up at her. A perfectly plucked eyebrow arches at you before she hooks a finger at you; come here. You saunter over to the stairs immediately.

The lustful feel that you felt downstairs is boosted tenfold up here as everyone is sprawled over velvet couches and sipping on champagne or moving together on the dance floor in a sensual tango. Na Yeon greets you soon after you step into the landing, giving you no time to bask in the heady atmosphere. Her hand twines with yours and pulls you on to the dance floor. Her hands immediately bring your hips to meet her’s as she grinds against you.

“Hello, [Name],” She purrs in your ear. You shudder as her voice sounds like liquid gold at such close proximity. “You look much more beautiful in person, I must say.” You preen under her words, already longing to hear more whispered praises. She tugs your hips tighter against her so that there’s no space between your ass and her grinding hips. One of her hands departs from your hips to play at the hem of your dress before gliding it underneath to caress your mound through the flimsy lace underwear So Mi assured you were as mandated as the dress. Her touch sends flames licking up your stomach as your legs go weak.

“How are you this wet already?” Her voice seems to be teasing, but as her hand reappears you can easily see yourself glistening on her fingers even in this low lighting. Na Yeon chuckles lightly before pressing her fingers hard against your lips until you part them. Immediately, you taste yourself spreading across your tongue. It should be strange, but the smirk you feel pressed against your neck as Na Yeon watches you suck on her digits has you working to please her. As soon as you’ve fully cleaned her Na Yeon grips your hips and swings you to face her. Had it not been for her bruising grip you might’ve teetered over in your heels.

“Good girl,” She praises, pushing a tendril of hair behind your ear. Her hips haven’t stuttered once as they move against you and your sure if she continues you’ll come without her having to put in much work. Of course, Na Yeon has other ideas. “Touch yourself.”

She’s a bit taller than you. Whether from her heels or actual height you don’t know, but you still look up at her with fearful eyes at the prospect of touching yourself in public. It’s not much different from what she just did to you, yet it still makes a heavy blush spread over your face. Na Yeon raises her brow at you again and you realize it’s what she does when you do anything even slightly out of order. Slowly, you move your hand between your bodies until it presses into the wet heat between your legs. Na Yeon slows the movement of her hips to watch the way your hand disappears under your dress. You know she isn’t the only one privy to your show. If anyone wanted to they could watch you get yourself off for her. That thought alone has you kicking it into high gear. You move your soaked panties to the side and press your thumb into your clit. Na Yeon’s tight grip refuses to let you fall as your knees wobble with pleasure.

“You’re doing so well, baby girl.” She whispers. Her words are for you but her eyes can’t look away from the space between your swaying bodies. You press harder into your clit, rubbing tight circles against the bundle of nerves, and press two fingers into your opening. You’re so wet that there’s no resistance and you pump them inside yourself unhindered. A breathless moan leaves your lips, and for the first time tonight Na Yeon kisses you. She doesn’t let up her assault on your mouth until your shuddering against her from your impending orgasm.

“You gonna come all over yourself, baby?” She watches your face this time, “You gonna let go for me? Let your come slick down your legs?” Her words are just the right amount of dirty and commanding to have you doing just as she wants. Your legs go positively numb as if all your bones have been turned into water as you feel yourself come all over your legs. Na Yeon smirks at your fucked out state and easily swoops one arm under your knees and the other across your back so she’s carrying your shaking body. You don’t pay attention to where you’re being taken until you’re plopped on to soft upholstery. Now you’re seated on a velvet couch, identical to all the others, in the far corner of the room. From here it looks like you’re watching everything move inside a snow globe. The light seems much brighter from your spot in the intense darkness.

“Up,” Na Yeon suddenly commands from behind you. The order is accompanied by a light slap that sounds like skin on skin. You turn to see her patting her bare thigh. Shakily, you crawl across the couch to her lap. She easily grabs your hips and pulls you so your pussy is flush against the skin of her thigh. She gives you simple instructions: move. Your hips are already in motion before you can fully register what it is she wants you to do. She tenses her leg as you grind against it, head thrown back in silent moans. By now your dress has ridden up over your hips, but you can’t find it in you to care. Na Yeon doesn’t seem to mind either as it gives her a better view to the way your spreading slick across her leg with each swerve of your hips.

You feel this orgasm approaching much faster than the first and you reach out for something to anchor you. Your hands curl into fists against the cushions, crushing the soft velvet under your shaky strength. Na Yeon weaves her fingers between your clenched ones until you’re holding on to her instead. You can’t tell if it’s an endearing motion or if she only wants you to feel her in this moment, probably the latter, but it doesn’t matter as your brain goes blank with the intensity of your orgasm. Your hips shudder to a stop and Na Yeon’s hands jump into action, pushing and pulling at your waist until you can’t breath from overstimulation. She doesn’t stop until tears burn down your cheeks, then she lets you go to fall back against the couch.

“Let’s go, babe,” She says suddenly. You’ve barely collected your bearings enough to straighten your dress to a more presentable place on your body. Na Yeon, on the other hand, is already swiping at her thigh with a wad of napkins before moving to yours. The thin paper is scratchy against your sensitive skin, but you say nothing and let her finish cleaning you up. Once she’s finished she tugs you to your feet. It takes all your concentration to not fall flat on your face as she tugs you through the club and to the door, though you almost broke your ankle on the stairs. The comical bouncer is still stationed outside when you walk out and he gives you a once over before winking at Na Yeon. She rolls her eyes at him and tugs you to the other side of her, somewhat shielding you from his gaze as she pulls you to a black limo with heavily tinted windows. A man in a suit emerges from the driver’s side to open the door for you and Na Yeon helps you in. The partition is already up and you can imagine what that means.

“Here,” Na Yeon hands you a bottle of water from the mini fridge which you guzzle down greedily. You hadn’t realized how tired you were until now, but the way Na Yeon is looking at you reminds you that you won’t be getting any rest anytime soon. “Turn around for me.” She says once you’ve depleted your bottle. You do as you’re told and face your back towards her. She moves closer until you can feel her breath across the nape of your neck. As she tugs down the zipper of your dress she leaves a trail of kisses over your spine, causing you to shiver in pleasure. Once it’s fully unzipped her hands dip inside, caressing across your stomach so the fabric falls from your chest. You help her fully remove it by lifting your hips off the seat. The pure white color of your dress will probably be tarnished by the floor but you don’t care. You’re too busy basking in the way Na Yeon’s hands move across your body.

She cups your breast that have been left bare due to your strapless dress and lack of strapless bras. Her thumbs play with your nipples until they’re standing at attention before trailing her touch lower and lower, until she reaches the lace of your ruined panties. With a quick tug of her hands the soft lace is torn away from your body and left in shreds in her fist. From this position with your back pressed against her chest while your legs stretch over the seat she can easily spread your thighs until you’re fully exposed. Her fingers rub across your abused sex, playing with your sensitive nub until you’re dripping wet again.

“Hands and knees.” Na Yeon says, already pushing you away from her chest. You do your best to maneuver into said position without hitting your head on the ceiling. As you wait for what Na Yeon’s about to do you watch her reflection in the dark glass. She lifts her dress to reveal a harness crisscrossing over her hips and the impossibly huge dildo she’s sliding through the ring. You squeeze your eyes shut in fright. It would be impossible to fit anything that size inside of you no matter how much you were prepped. Na Yeon seems convinced otherwise as she glides two fingers inside of you. The feeling has pleasuring ripping through you and you don’t notice that she’s moved to four fingers until she’s sliding them out of you and you go from feeling pleasurably full to completely empty. Your walls clamp around the air as you await anything to come fill you up again. Na Yeon does just that as she spreads your lips and slides into you to the hilt.

You want to cry, scream, and moan all at once as she presses as deep inside as she can until the tip is resting against the spot that has your forgetting anything but her name. The first few thrusts are experimental grinds before she’s pulling out so only the head of the toy is inside you before slamming back in. You scream at the feeling of being so full as she hits your g-spot with precision each time. It’s not long before your sagging forward and seeing stars. Na Yeon wraps your hair around her fist and tugs until your back is arched perfectly. The slight pain magnifies your pleasure and you come with a scream that’s so loud you’re afraid it’ll hurt Na Yeon’s ears. She seems unbothered as she drops your hair in favor of your hips, continuing to give you shallow thrusts until you’re sobbing into your arms.

You mourn the loss of the toy as soon as she pulls out. It feels almost shameful to be empty after being filled to the brim, but you collapse against the seat anyway. Your entire body feels like the ocean is pulsing inside you instead of normal things like your bones and muscles. Na Yeon seems to notice how completely spent you are and hands you another bottle of water. You can’t even find enough coordination to open it.

“Come here, baby girl.” She says sweetly as she gently pulls you into her lap. She takes a sip from the bottle before pressing her lips to yours, transferring the water to you. You drink it eagerly, licking at her lips for any stray drops. She does this for half of the bottle before letting you rest. As soon as your head presses into the curve of her neck you’re out like a light.
No Longer Alone (Logan Howlett/Peter Maximoff Imagine)

Heeellooo everybodyyy!

I worked on this literally all last night, all day yesterday, all night the night before that, and all day the day before that… I’m gonna be honest, I played with A LOT of stuff here. It’s kind of a monster! Anyway, I hope you guys find some enjoyment out of my ramblings. 

WORD COUNT: 7, 442

Also FYI: I wrote this in first person, and because it’s so long… I don’t really have the patience to go back and change pronouns haha! But of course the classic (Y/N) is in there. 

In this story, Logan is sort of like the Reader’s guardian/mentor. And Peter Maximoff (Quicksilver) is her crush. The story takes place at a school dance, but there are a lot of flashback sequences throughout it. Again, I played with a lot of stuff. (I feel like for some reason I have a bit more fun writing when I don’t have like an exact “plan” for my story for some reason? XD

I hope you enjoy!! xo

It was beautiful. Like a prom. The one’s I’d seen on T.V. anyway… this was just a “Formal.” But still, it was beautiful nonetheless.

Streamers curled down from the ceilings in strings of silver, sparkling ribbons. The lights shone on them, making the room sparkle… like stars had fallen from the heavens for the evening and scattered around the dance floor just for us. Us mutants.

I loved dances. Or rather.. I suppose I loved the idea of them. This was my first one. I couldn’t help but giggle to myself as I glanced across the room at Logan, who stood all brooding and annoyed and aloof in the corner. Despite his expression, he still managed to look incredibly handsome in the new suit I’d persuaded him to buy the day he’d come with me to get a dress. I’m pretty sure he only bought it to stop me from annoyingly abhorring him over going to a formal dance with jeans and a t-shirt… and to stop from feeling flustered as I mentioned what Jean would think about seeing him in a suit.

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totallynerdstuff

replied to your post

“In the mood of writing more bughead soooo… hit me with your prompts?…”

First of all thank you so much for creating such amazing stories! I’d love to read a story involving prom/ school dance. Betty wants to go with Jughead but he’s not crazy about the idea of going to a school event like that.

Hope you like it, dear!! Thank you for your lovely words and for requesting!! 


“No.”

“But, Juggie—”

“Betty, I said no.”

A childlike pout adorned the blonde’s luscious pink lips as she dropped her back on her leather seat at Pop’s, the action filling the silence with an icky squish sound. The conversation was pretty much going on and on like that since she had entered the small dinner and sat next to her beloved boyfriend, who these past days wasn’t so beloved but seemed to drive her to the wall with his stubbornness and his nonexistent desire of earning any social skills. At this point Betty was either gonna give up or smother his ridiculously handsome face with that laptop of his, that had his attention the whole hour she was trying to change his mind.

Topic of conversation: Riverdale High’s 20s decade dance. The whole school was filled with a gazillion of posters and excitement was pouring from every corridor of their high school, as this themed dance was a first time thing and very much anticipated. Needless to say, the Jones boy was grumpy and easily irritable this whole week that the preparations had reached their zenith. He didn’t quite get the big deal; it was just another event added to their long list of pep-rallies and jubilees, this being even worse, because it demanded attire from some too far gone golden era. Yeah, Jughead, wasn’t going to attend that.

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Interesting Girl

DC (Suicide Squad) One Shot

Characters: [FEMALE] Reader x Joker

Warnings: alcohol consumption, violence and swearing

Request: “Hey could I get a one shot where the joker sees the reader at the club and is fascinated by her, he starts keeping an eye on her but when another mob boss goes to kidnap her because she owes them something like money, she starts kicking ass. The joker realizes that he was not stalking a regular girl but a badass mutant, which makes him obsessed with her? Ty” - anonymous

Word Count: 1,363

A/N: hope this was alright !!

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anonymous asked:

I'm dying to read a headcanon about cress wearing thorne's clothes, or scar wearing wolf's or literally any of the ships. :)

This request has been floating around the fandom and there have been some great replies!! But if you’re interested, here are my thoughts…

  • Kaider
    • I’ve mentioned before in a previous headcanon that because Cress and Thorne are constantly flying back and forth between Earth and Luna, that they would, of course, be delivering care packages between Kai and Cinder. The first care package that Kai ever put together, he hesitated about putting his grey hoodie into the box. After getting egged on by Thorne because they were running late, Kai hastily stuff the hoodie in the box and prayed that Cinder wouldn’t think he was a dork.
      • On the contrary, when Cinder pulled the hoodie out of the box, she was a bit confused, wondering why Kai would give her an old sweatshirt, but then the smell of cedar and white tea hit her and she clutched the hoodie close to her chest and inhaled deeply.
        • Cinder has been known to sleep with the hoodie and on the few occasions that she misses Kai a little too much, she’ll wear the hoodie over her extravagant Lunar dresses. Of course, this only happens when she’s alone in the throne room and no one sees except Iko and Kinney.
        • When the hoodie loses it’s “Kai-ness,” Cinder will send it back so that Kai can have it for a month or two. In exchange, Kai makes it smell like him again while enjoying the soft smells of orange blossoms and honeysuckle (with an underlining hint of motor oil) that inevitably cling to the hoodie while on Luna.
  • Wolflet
    • Speaking of hoodies, everyone knows how Scarlet loves her, but with any beloved article of clothing, it will inevitably be worn to tatters. At the first signs of wear, Scarlet would take extra care to mend those little holes and patch them as necessary. Of course, patching could only do so much and one day Scarlet would wake up to find that her hoodie was missing. She’d ask Wolf about it and he’d tell her that he took care of it.
      • Scarlet would be fuming to say the least, but before she could open her mouth to yell at him - profanities in French is one of her specialties - he would hand her a box wrapped with red ribbon. Scarlet knew that a red ribboned box meant a gift from Winter and when she opened it, she saw a brand new red hoodie from Wolf and when he pressed her to look inside, she saw that a patch of her old hoodie was cut into a heart and expertly sewn into the inside of the new hoodie.
        • Wolf’s ears would grow red when they find that there is a green hoodie for Wolf inside that box with its own matching red heart patch.
    • Scarlet has also been known to throw on any of Wolf’s shirts that are laying around before she heads downstairs in the morning to make breakfast. There is a green flannel shirt of his that she particularly likes and Wolf never, ever complains.
  • Cresswell
    • I’ve mentioned before in a previous headcanon that Cress doesn’t like wearing pants. Unfortunately for her, there weren’t many options while they were on the Rampion, running from the law with a kidnapped emperor, but the Rampion crew can be pretty resourceful. Taking pity on Cress, Iko stole borrowed some of Thorne’s old button down shirts and turned them into cute shirt dresses for Cress because they were just the right length. Iko even cut the long sleeves and turned them into cute little belts. 
      • After the revolution, Thorne made sure to pass down all of his old shirts so that Cress could wear them as dresses. Winter as also been known to sew them for Cress as well.
    • Cress also likes to wear Thorne’s boxers as pajama bottoms and has also been known to borrow his blindfold/banada and use it as a hair tie.
  • Jacinter
    • After spending so many long hours of the day wearing shimmery dresses and sashes, Winter likes nothing better than to unwind and lounge in the simplest of clothes. Very quickly during her ambassador duties, does she realize that all of Jacin’s pajamas are made of the soften linens and cottons and she loves the downright plainness of them. 
      • On any other person, it would look ridiculous since Winter has to roll up the sleeves and the pant legs significantly, but she is so graceful and looks so chic that even Coco Chanel would be proud. 
      • Jacin never ever complains because he’s too smitten to.
        • “You would be beautiful wearing a trash bag.”
        • “Oh Jacin, don’t be silly. They make far too much noise to be able to sleep comfortably.”
        • “Of course, princess.”
  • BONUS: mix and match
    • Iko is constantly making Cinder change into her clothes whether it’s because Cinder inevitably gets her own clothes dirty or because, “That shirt does not go with those pants. Honestly Cinder, do we need to have another lesson on Separates: When and When Not to Separate Them?”
    • Sometimes Thorne will get jealous of Cinder and Kai’s hoodie swapping and steal the grey hoodie for himself for an hour or two. Afterwards, Cinder and Kai are constantly finding “love letters” in the pockets. However, most of them just talk about how dreamy Thorne’s eyes are or how handsome he is.
    • Once, while on the farm, Cress borrowed Wolf’s hoodie to make a quick trip out to the Rampion. When she got back, everyone saw how hilarious it was that she was swimming in Wolf’s hoodie and Thorne squeezed inside of it with her. There’s a photo of the two of them with Scarlet doubled over in laughter. 

Want more headcanons? You can find them here

I’m Okay

Originally posted by wwhatfinn

Request: Can you write a Barry imagine where you work for a really corporate business place and you have to go to a business party for your boss and Barry is your best friend and just got out of the coma and surprises you at the party and everyone thinks he’s your boyfriend? And lots off fluff and maybe some spice?? Thank you so much!

Notes: So, my first fic after my trip! I was going to upload this last night/earlier today but unfortunately I got sick so I’ve just been in bed reading fics instead. Anyways, I did have Y/N and Barry end up together, but still as best friends, you know how it gets. Anyways, I hope you like it!

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Reputations: Fred x Reader

*Don’t worry guys this isn’t going to be sad, this takes place during the Triwizard Tournament so your 6th year. You are Draco’s older sibling in y/h and you’re best friends with the twins. Okay that’s it enjoy!*


“Y/n you can’t be friends with them you know that!” Your little brother Draco was always playing tattletale with you.

“Actually quite the contrary Draco I can be friends with whomever I please,” you sassed back. You weren’t going to let your annoying little brother boss you around.

“Father will hear about this!” He shouted and stomped off. God was he a drama queen.

“Right Draco as if I actually care what father thinks!” You yelled back. You loved him because he was your brother and it was kinda required but sometimes you wanted to hit him.

“Hey Y/n what were you just yelling about?” One of your best friends Fred Weasley asked as he walked around the corner of the hall.

“Oh nothing just my brother being an idiot,” you laughed as you said that Fred knew how Draco could be sometimes.

“What did he do this time?” Fred chuckled.

“Nothing in particular just being a dick,” you responded not wanting Fred to know how your family felt about him and the rest of his family. You were sure he already knew but you didn’t want to make it worse.

“Well, if he’s bothering me and George have just made these puking pastels that you could slip him,” Fred and George were always looking to sell you their new products.

“I’m good, but thanks for the offer,” you said shaking your head.

“We should get back to lunch yeah?” Fred asked. Oh shit you totally forgot.

“Oh yeah we should let’s go,” you both started to walk back to the great hall. Fred slung his arm around your shoulder as you two walked.

“Hey be careful buddy someone might think we’re dating,” you reminded him.

“And that would be bad why?” Fred asked seemly genuinely curious.

“Well for me I don’t think it would be but I seriously doubt you want people to think that you’re dating the Malfoy’s only daughter,” you replied.

“Y/n, you seriously think I give two shits was other people think?” Fred seemed astonished.

“Yup I do, you have a representation to protect,” you giggled when you saw the look on his face.

“You’ve got to be kidding? What can I do to prove it to you?” Fred looked oddly concerned.

“Actually, I might have something… No wait you’d never be able to do it,” you said smirking slightly.

“I can too! Tell me what it is,” You had to admit Fred was committed.

“Okay… but it’s hard. You have to go to the Yule Ball with me, prove you don’t care what people think,” you crossed your arms in front of your chest. Fred started laughing, you were confused. You raised an eyebrow at him. “What? Why are you laughing?” You asked.

“That’s your hard challenge? That’s it?” Fred continued to laugh. “You got yourself a deal,” Fred stuck out his hand for you to shake. You were shocked but you put on your brave face and shook his hand.

“Ready?” He asked.

“As I’ll ever be,” you replied. You two walked back to lunch.


People stared at the both of you as you walked through the halls all week. Fred’s hand or arm usually around your waist or shoulders. Even Fred’s sister Ginny came up to you and asked what was going on. Fred couldn’t believe how much attention you two were getting, on the other hand you knew very well why this was going to blow out of proportions. Even with all of Triwizard Tournament events happening this still was being talked about every time you or Fred walked into a room. It was about a week before the ball so you and Hermione went dress shopping.

“How’s this one?” Hermione asked holding up a short red dress with hideous ruffles.

“Awful, put it back,” you answered laughing.

“Oh lord I didn’t see the ruffles,” you heard Hermione groan as she put back the very ugly dress. You picked through dresses looking for the perfect one but you were having very little luck. Finally you stopped upon a blue slightly shimmery long dress. It was gorgeous, not for you though.

“Mione! Come here!” You shouted to Hermione who was across the store. You heard the heels of her shoes click clack across the wooden floor.

“What?” Hermione asked. You held up the dress in response. Hermione’s eyes widened. “Holy cricket it’s gorgeous!” Hermione squealed.

“And it’s your size!” You exclaimed. Now with Hermione’s dress picked out it was your turn. You and Hermione spent over an hour trying to find you a dress. Eventually the owner of the store got tired of you two being in there so he took out a dress that he thought would look good on you (or so he said).

“What do think?” The owner asked hopeful you would say you liked it and leave. It was absolutely gorgeous.

It was a beautiful maroon not to mention backless and flowing. It was simple but not boring. You were in love, you looked over at Hermione who quickly nodded her head yes.

“We’ll take them both!” You exclaimed as you went to go pay for your dresses. The both of you spent the rest of the day talking about your dates and how you were going to do your hair it was great much needed girl time.

(Time skip brought to you by that cool ass dress I found online)

It was the day of the ball and boy were you nervous. Not about the ball itself but the fact that there was a good chance Fred was going to back out. But you did your best to calm yourself down and once it got about 6:00 you started to get ready as Fred was picking you up at around 7:45. You took a shower and got everything ready. Once your hair was done you put on your dress and looked in the mirror. You looked better than you had in a while you thought. When it was around 7:30 you walked outside your common room and there was Fred waiting for you. He was all dressed up in his dress robes and look very handsome if you’d say so yourself. He saw you and his eyes went wide as he looked you up and down. You giggled and did a little twirl, his eyes got even wider when he saw that it was backless. Fred handed you a corsage that matched your dress.

“It’s beautiful, thank you,” you thanked him.

“Not as beautiful as you,” Fred said smiling. You slapped his arm lightly.

“Oh come on that was so cheesy!” You both started to laugh.

“Anyways, shall we?” Fred held out his arm for you to hold and you did. The two of you walked down to the great hall as people stared. You walked past Draco who completely flipped out.

“Look Draco, at least I didn’t come with pug-face Parkinson,” you teased as you past him by. You couldn’t help it you absolutely hated Pansy. Draco mouthed ‘Father will hear about this,’ and frankly you didn’t give a damn. The dance began with the competitors dancing with their dates. You saw Hermione in her dress and she looked absolutely amazing as she danced gracefully with Viktor. All was well until you heard Fred busting out laughing.

“What’s so funny?” You asked confused.

“Look,” Fred could barely finish the word but he pointed at Ron. You started laughing too, Ron looked so angry as he watched Hermione intently. His ears were bright red and the scowl on his face wasn’t a good look for him. You and Fred were laughing way too hard at him but you didn’t care. Finally Dumbledore called all the rest of the couples out to dance and Fred stood and held out his hand.

“May I have this dance?” He asked.

“Of course,” you replied.

The two of you danced for hours, stopping only for food and breaks because dancing that much makes your feet hurt.

A whole lot of time and dances later, there was one last slow dance. You and Fred got up and you put your arms around his neck and his hands were at your waist. You leaned you head onto his chest and closed your eyes, this was nice.

“Y/n,” Fred spoke up.

“Huh?” You lifted your head up to look at him.

“I love you,” Fred confess- wait what?!

“You what?” You asked, maybe your heard him wrong.

“I said I love you,” Fred repeated clear as day. He loved you. Wow.

“Well I love you too Fred, I really do,” you smiled and put your head back down on his chest. The two of you danced until the ball was over. That was truly an amazing night.

Drunk in Love

Prompt -  I have a request! Could you do an AU where the reader is really drunk and John Laurens has to come pick her up at the bar and take care of her? And the reader wants to do “stuff” with John but he doesn’t want to cause she’s drunk AF. Thanks! (sorry that’s so specific)

Word count - 4760 (BECAUSE I CAN’T WRITE SOMETHING SHORT JFC SARAH)

Warnings - Um… drinking. And drunken dirty talk. 

Tags - @serkewen12 @sunriseovertheroomwhereithappens @small-stars @futureauthor45 @butlinislin @hamilton-gaygod @daveedish @darling-danger @iluvnialljameshoran @getupoffathathang @ruth-hamilton-delrio (ask to be tagged in future fics!)

You finished answering the final question on your exam and sighed in relief. You were done. After at least a month of intense studying, all-nighters, and more caffeine than a normal human should consume, you were done. And on top of that, you felt really good about how you’d done on this one. You’d answered every question to the best of your ability, and you were almost positive that you’d gotten a high score on it. With a confident smile on your face, you grabbed your bag and the exam paper before turning it in and heading out of the classroom. It was all you could do to avoid doing a little victory dance right there on the spot, but you waited until you were outside before letting out a joyful “yes!” You were done with every final, and tonight, you wanted to celebrate. You pulled out your phone and sent a group text to Angelica, Eliza, and Peggy.

(Y/N), 2:30 PM – Guess who’s finally done!

Eliza, 2:31 PM – Congrats, girl!

Angelica, 2:31 PM – Bet you’re happy.

Peggy, 2:32 PM – So now we’re all finished. Are you thinking what I’m thinking?

(Y/N), 2:33 PM – Exactly. I was thinking we could go out tonight, have a girls’ night. Let our hair down. I can’t remember the last time we did that.

Angelica, 2:34 PM – It’s been too long. How does 7 sound?

(Y/N), 2:34 PM – Sounds good to me.

Eliza, 2:34 PM – Perfect.

Peggy, 2:35 PM – Can’t wait!

Keep reading

Art and Archie

Word count: 2582

Warning(s): Drinking and like one swear word

Pairings: ArchiexReader, just in case that wasn’t obvious from the title.

Request:  Plus size reader x Archie? But the reader is an artist and focuses on painting with gouache and watercolors and graphite sketches in her sketchbooks.And she always draws herself the way she thinks she appears, like, feels ugly, and then Archie finds it and tells her its not true and all? and she needs to paint a portrait to get into an art school and wants to paint Archie? And, by the way, maybe include fluffy smut that inspires her? Arggh its very specific but I hope you dont mind! Thankiee luv

Author’s Note: Sorry this took so long! Also I can’t draw for shit so idk anything about art but I tried my best! Hope you like it! 

Your hands moved swiftly, decorating the page with graceful strokes and elegant curves. You were drawing yourself again. Well, more like drawing how you saw yourself. It started out with you doing self-portraits but then you got a little creative and started drawing yourself as things or people you imagined yourself to be.

You had drawn yourself as an elephant, an ugly dragon, Ursula from the Little Mermaid and a million other things, with your own personalized touch. You didn’t plan on showing the drawings to anyone though.

Today, you were a hippopotamus. But not a regular hippopotamus, of course. A hippopotamus that had midnight blue skin and wore a pale white dress along with white hippopotamus shoes. It had stars all over its body, stars that were golden and silver.

You tried to make the hippopotamus as pretty as you possibly could, adding as many details as you could. But nothing could make it beautiful. Just like nothing could ever make you beautiful.

You were about to punch a hole through your sketchbook when you felt someone sit down next to you. You immediately slammed the sketch book shut and stuffed it into your bag before turning to look at the intruder.

“Seriously?” Archie rolled his eyes. “Why don’t you ever let me see what you’re drawing?”

“Because I don’t want to.” You said bluntly.

“Are you not showing me because you’re drawing weird Japanese porn?” He asked, nudging your side.

“Yes. Yes, I am.” You said, and you couldn’t help the small laugh that slipped out of you. “How’d you guess?”

“Do you want to come have lunch with me and my friends?” Archie asked, smiling at you.

“My friends and I.” You corrected, pulling a bag of chips out of your bag. “And no, thank you.”

“Why not?” He asked.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged. “Just don’t feel like it.”

“Do you not like them?” He asked, making you frown. You turned to look at him. “I didn’t say that, Archie.” You said before shoving a chip into your mouth. You held the bag out to Archie, who grabbed a handful.

“But you never hang out with them.” He protested.

“Don’t I?” You asked, pretending to be surprised. Archie rolled his eyes before shaking his head at you.

“Veronica’s throwing a party tonight. You should come.” He said.

“Why?” You asked, looking away from him.

“Because it’ll be fun. And you can finally, y’know, talk to my friends.” He teased, grinning.

“Whatever, Andrews.” You mumbled. “You should get back to your friends, though. I bet they’re looking for you.”

“You’re probably right.” He said, standing up and swinging his backpack over his shoulder. “Will you go to the party?” He asked.

“I’ll think about it.” You smiled, shrugging.

“Alright, then.” He smiled back. “See you tonight, (Y/N).”

You watched him turn around and walk away before grabbing your sketchbook again. You pulled out the thin slip of paper you had printed out, which you kept in between the pages.

The NY School of Arts. The most prestigious art school in the country. You had wanted to go there for as long you could remember and now, you were finally going to apply. Archie had helped you with almost everything, helping you make decisions and being a great friend. You were required to send in your portfolio, an essay on ‘your journey with art’, your credentials and a portrait. You had almost all of those things done, except for the portrait. You had to send in that application within the end of the month and you had no idea who to draw. You groaned internally.

You flipped to your most recent drawing: the hippopotamus. You stared at it for a while, at all the work you put into it. Obviously, you couldn’t send this in. You sighed and closed it again.

What place did a hippopotamus occupy in this world?

~~~

You ended up deciding to go to the party. You didn’t want to but Archie had spammed you with texts, threatening to kill you or steal your sketchbook or never speak to you again if you didn’t show up. So you decided what the hell, might as well go. Maybe you’d even find someone who you wanted to draw.

After scouring social media for a while, you gathered some vague details about the party. It was a sort of semi-formal affair. From what the majority of the girls were posting, you figured out the dress code was something shimmery/glittery/shiny/sparkly or something similar. You had to search your closet for hours before you found something that would be okay.

You were now wearing a sleeveless, shimmery gold dress that reached your knees, with black leggings underneath it along with a black jacket and a pair of black heeled boots you stole from your sister’s closet. You hadn’t spent much time on your hair, just deciding to let it do it’s thing, and you tried to make your makeup look pretty and glowy.

After one final look in the mirror, you decided that was as good as it would get and grabbed your bag, which contained your sketchbook, phone, and makeup.

Veronica didn’t live far from you, only about 10 minutes away. As you stood in front of her house, fiddling with the strap of your bag, you could hear the loud music and the voices coming from inside. You grimaced, the thought of social interaction making your stomach squeeze.

You had never been a girl with many friends, even though you had lived in Riverdale all your life. As the years went on, you eventually became the girl who was either invisible or picked on. So you stopped trying to talk to people and, instead, let yourself get sucked into your art. This was also the reason you weren’t keen on meeting Archie’s friends. You couldn’t stand the idea of being laughed at by them.

You mustered up your courage, walked up to the front door and rang the bell. You held your breath as the door opened to reveal a very beautiful, very drunk Veronica Lodge. “Oh my god!” She squealed when she saw you and immediately threw her arms around you. “(Y/N)! I can’t believe you came!”

You chuckled as she pulled away. “Neither can I, to be honest.”

“Archie!” Veronica shouted, looking around for him. She turned back to you, a glint in her eyes. “Come on, we gotta find Archie.”

“Um. Okay?” You responded as she grabbed your hand and dragged you into the house. You tried your best to dodge all the sweaty bodies that occupied the room.

“There you are!” Veronica yelled, leading you over to where Archie stood with Jughead and Betty. “Look who showed up!” She said, gesturing at you and grinning.

“(Y/N), you came!” Archie said, pulling you into a hug.

You laughed and dramatically placed a hand over your heart. “You just matter too much to me, Archibald.”

He rolled his eyes, but the smile didn’t leave his face. “You look really nice.”

“Thanks.” You blushed immediately. “You do too.”

Archie chuckled in response.

“Um, I’m gonna go get a drink.” You told him. “Do you want anything?”

“Yeah, I’ll just come with you.” Archie said. The two of you made your way over to the kitchen, Archie’s hand resting on the small of your back. You pretended not to notice but your heart was pounding in your chest. This boy….

Archie grabbed a beer and so did you, as you guessed beer was probably the official party drink. You placed your bag on the counter before hopping up to sit on it. Archie leaned on it next to you, his arm brushing the side of your thigh.

“So.” You took a sip of your drink. “What do we do at this party?”

“Well, we can dance. Or play some games. Or y’know, just talk, really.” Archie shrugged.

“I don’t like any of those options.” You wrinkled your nose, making him laugh.

“(Y/N)!!!” Veronica called out, appearing in the kitchen. “Come here!”

“Me?” You blinked.

She giggled. “Yeah, you.”

“Um, okay.” You hopped off the counter, turning to Archie. “Be right back?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, smiling. Just as you turned to leave, he quickly grabbed your hand. You raised an eyebrow at him. “When you get back…” He paused to lick his lips. “Do you maybe want to dance?”

You couldn’t help but smile. “Okay.”

“Okay.” He responded. He quickly leaned forward, brushing his lips over your cheek.  

“Um, okay.” You let out a breathless laugh as he pulled away, his cheeks just as red as yours. You couldn’t stop smiling as you made your way over to Veronica.

“What’s up?” You asked her.

“Shhh.” She leaned forward, pressing a finger to your lips, her face dangerously close to yours and making you question your sexuality. “Not here.”

She grabbed your hand again before leading you to her room, where Betty stood with her arms crossed over her chest. She rolled her eyes when she saw Veronica. “Honestly, Ronnie, I don’t see the point of all this.”

“She has to know, B!” Veronica said dramatically.

“Don’t you think she already does?” Betty chuckled. “It’s pretty obvious.”

“Um, wait.” You interjected. “What do I have to know, or already know?”

Veronica leaned close to you again. “Archie likes you!” She said in a hushed whisper.

“Oh.” You said. “Oh, um, I don’t—um, okay?”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t know!” Betty looked at you in disbelief.

“I didn’t know!” You exclaimed. “I just, I never really thought…I mean, he’s Archie Andrews!”

“And he’s liked you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), ever since he first spoke to you.” Betty grinned at you.

“This isn’t funny.” You crossed your arms over your chest. “Are you guys just mocking me?“

“What?” Betty and Veronica chorused.

“Ha, ha, guys, great joke.” You rolled your eyes.  

“Why do you think we’re joking?” Betty almost looked amused.

“I think you already know.” You snapped. This was the exact reason you hadn’t wanted to come. People just enjoyed making fun of you.

“Get outta my way.” You mumbled, pushing them out of your way as you made your way to the door. You almost went home. But then you remembered…your stupid, stupid bag. You’d left it in the stupid kitchen, on the stupid counter, next to stupid Archie. You groaned as you made your way to the kitchen, only to find that neither Archie nor your bag was in there.

“Seriously?” You mumbled to yourself, as you moved through the crowd. You pulled your phone out and texted Archie, asking him where he was. When he didn’t respond after five minutes of waiting, you decided to go to a quieter place to call him. You made your way to the backyard and found Archie there. Hunched over with your sketchbook on his lap.

“Archie.” Your voice came out clear and deadly calm. “What the fuck are you doing?”

To your surprise, he didn’t slam it shut or make any excuses. “Looking at your art.” He responded.

“You know I don’t like when people see it.” You said through gritted teeth.

“Yeah, well, no wonder.” He said.

“What is that supposed to mean?” You asked, offended.

“No! No, I didn’t mean it like that.” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Just come sit down, please.

You went over to sit down next to him and snatched the sketchbook out of his hands. “That was not cool, Archie.”

“I know.” He sighed again. “But I was curious.”

You didn’t respond.

“Why do you draw yourself like that?” He asked after a while.

“How do you know I’m drawing myself?” You asked, looking at your thighs.

“I could see the transition. You started with drawings of you and then like, they got sort of twisted? They’re still beautiful, of course. I mean, the actual art is beautiful but it’s clear that you’re choosing to draw yourself as something ugly. And it’s like, you try to make it pretty but you don’t really want to.” He rambled.

“It’s just…how I view myself.” You mumbled.

“Why?” He asked.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged. “Because it’s the way others think of me?”

“I don’t think of you like that.” His voice was soft, gentle.

“Whatever.” You mumbled, picking at the hem of your dress.

“(Y/N).” He said, taking your hand into his. “I don’t think you’re ugly at all.”

“Then what do you think?” You whispered, finally looking up to meet his eyes.

“I think you’re beautiful.” He said, his eyes boring into yours. “And I think that you’re ridiculous for not seeing how absolutely amazing you are. You’re so talented and creative and you’re the best artist I have ever known. You’re kind, even to people who don’t deserve your kindness. You’re a wonderful person, (Y/N), and I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.”

You couldn’t say anything—and you couldn’t stop looking at him. He was so beautiful. From his fiery red hair to his warm brown eyes to his soft pink lips. He was perfect. And there, under the moonlight, the sounds from the party a distant throb, you wanted to kiss him.

“Archie.” You breathed out. “Can I kiss you?”

He nodded, placing his hand on your cheek and tilting his head towards yours. The kiss was short; a few gentle brushes of his lips against yours. But, oh god, was it wonderful. You felt like you were filled with all the colours in the world and you were about to burst and spill out a rainbow. You were so happy. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been this happy.

You pulled away, resting your forehead against his. His thumb traced circles on your cheeks, his breathing a little uneven.

When you finally opened your eyes to look at him again, you broke out into the biggest smile. He smiled back.

“What?” He asked.

“Nothing.” You mumbled. “I just really, really like you.”

“That’s good. Because I really, really like you too.” He replied.

“Wow. Betty and Veronica weren’t lying.” You giggled. “You really do like me.”

“What?” Archie shot you a confused look.

“Nothing. Nothing at all.” You smiled again. You leaned towards him and rested your head on his shoulder, as he wrapped an arm around your waist. You didn’t speak.  You didn’t need to. This moment, under the stars, in the pale glow of the moonlight was something you never knew you craved until now.

As you looked at him again, you realized something. You’d been looking everywhere for inspiration but you’d forgotten about the person who’d helped you every step of the way.

“Archie?” You said.

“Yeah?” He responded, turning his head slightly to look at you.

“Can I draw you?” Your voice came out timid.

“Draw me?” He seemed confused.

“For my college application.” You explained.

“Wait, really?” He pulled away to stare at you.

“Yeah.” You looked down shyly. “I wanted to draw someone I really liked. Someone that made me happy.”

“And you’re choosing me?” A smile was slowly beginning to spread across his face.

“Yeah.” You smiled back.

“Okay. I mean, of course you can. I would love that!” He said, his voice now full of excitement.

“Thank you.” You responded, leaning in to kiss him again.

“(Y/N)?” Archie said once you pulled away.

You hummed softly in response.

“Draw me like one of your French girls.”

‘Ella looked down and saw that her rags had turned into a shimmery dress, with yards and yards of silk and gauze skirts, under which she teetered in two little glass slippers.
“Fairy Godmother,” said Ella rather tartly, “I would not call this outfit ‘straightforward’.”
The old woman eyed Ella. “Usually they just wear what they’re given,” she said grumpily.
“Usually, I imagine, they’re less than half my age and don’t know how to stand up to you,” replied Ella.
“Oh very well then,” said the old woman, and tapped the twig against her hand again. At once Ella found herself in a very smart and comfortable outfit, with a beautifully embroidered cloak, and elegant boots with only a hint of glass in the buttons up the sides.’

3

✨ Just wanted to share some cute things I got in the post the other day~ ✨

The absolute cutest Boo plush in existence~♥

My poor Minifee still lacks pretty much.. everything, but at least she’s made a new friend :D I only recently discovered Toysfield dolls but my god they’re so kitschy and cute and I love them~! I’ve got my eye on a mint Usagi and I really hope one day I can find a full sized Kuma, preferably in brown or pink

And finally the Angel Crown Sakura figure by PLUM. I absolutely adored this the moment I saw it, despite not really being a yellow person. I got it for an absolute steal second hand on Y!J. Her shoes are shiny like patent, and her socks, gloves and dress are shimmery and pearlescent. She’s just so super pretty, and I’m really happy to own her~♥

*Letting Go* Newt x reader

◘ Anonymous asked: 

Hi! Your stories are great! Could you do an angsty unrequited love story where Newt’s been in love with the reader since they were Hogwarts students but he’s too shy to admit his feelings while she loves him like a brother? Then years later, she gets engaged to another guy and even though Newt’s heartbroken, he lets her go because her happiness meant more to him than his own. Thanks!

♦ Thanks, boo! Enjoy! ^_^

You had always been the most beautiful person in the entire world to Newt. From the moment he first met you in your first year at Hogwarts to now. You were adults and living in a shared apartment in London. Your relationship had always been platonic but you definitely shared a special bond. Newt, however, had always wished for you two to be more. Every day he wanted to wrap you up in to his arms and hold you close, never letting you go. Every day he had to fight himself from pulling you in to his embrace and pressing his chapped lips against your smooth and perfect ones. What he wouldn’t give to spend the rest of his life with you by his side.

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