suspender top

Actual things that have happened in Miraculous Ladybug which I still can’t believe
  • Ladybug rode a giant flying hairdryer
  • Ladybug rode a dragon
  • A guy tried to take over Paris with pigeons
  • A chef encased an entire building in caramel and tried to cook a girl alive in a pool of soup
  • A 15 year old challenged a panther to a race and the owner was so upset he turned into a dinosaur and ate Ladybug
  • A rock star was sword-fighting with Chat Noir on a plank suspended at the top of the Eiffel Tower, using a guitar
  • Said rock star has a pet crocodile
  • A girl tried to fight off a butterfly with an umbrella while stuck in a lift
  • Chat Noir was murdered by a supervillain and died in Ladybug’s arms, in an early episode. No, really, he actually died, I’m not even kidding
  • Ladybug kissed Chat Noir for like 10 seconds while lying on the floor, and he didn’t remember it and she didn’t tell him
  • Chat Noir threw his bodyguard down a lift shaft from the 8th floor. This has never been brought up again.
  • A kid used magic bubbles to kidnap all the adults in Paris so he could throw a birthday party
  • Marinette went on a date with a supervillain
  • Ladybug tossed Chat Noir in a river
  • Some smartie in the 19th century invented the hologram and then… didn’t tell anyone?? Except their family?? Why would you keep such awesome new technology a secret??
  • A 186 year old and his turtle sidekick started shipping two teenagers because of an umbrella
  • A guy cut the entire Eiffel Tower in half
  • A strict rich fashion designer pretended to be a butterfly and then pretended to be an aeroplane, and also another time said he was the Easter Bunny
  • A ridiculously competent toddler managed to brainwash Chat Noir
  • Santa Claus dabbed

anonymous asked:

how about Betty toying with Jughead's suspenders he can't concentrate during class?

I love this oh my goodness! Thankyou so much!

She was so bored, was chemistry supposed to be this boring? She remembered a time when she actually looked forward to coming to this class, well that was all before she got to sit next to her very favorite person and secret love of her life. Jughead jones.

It was fairly obvious that he was daydreaming as well, his chin tucked into his hand and his wavy dark hair dangling over his eyes, what she would give to run her fingers through that mess of waves he hid underneath his hat. Biting her lip, she shook that thought out of her head, her eyes dipped lower instantly catching onto his infamous suspenders. Did she ever mention how sexy she found those damn suspenders?
So hot.

Feeling brave, she reached a hand to his chest, fingering the stretchy elastic, his eyes snapped to hers and he raised a brow with a questioning smile. She just shrugged, giggling softly and running the material under her fingers.

Holy shit, Jughead couldn’t even comprehend what was going on, the beautiful blonde to his right had her hands all over his chest, running those dainty fingers over his suspenders. Was he still dreaming? No this felt much different than his thoughts. This was so much better.
“What are you doing green eyes?” He whispered , catching her eyes, they were sparkling mischievously.
“Just exploring, I was thinking of investing in a pair of suspenders, just testing them out.” She whispered back with a teasing smile.

Gulping heavily, he couldn’t help but imagine Betty in his suspenders,

only his suspenders.

Okay. No no no. These were not chemistry class thoughts.

“Well knock it off, were supposed to be paying attention.” He play glared at her, turning his attention back to the teacher, a task that was nearly impossible when Betty dragged her hand across his chest moving to toy with the other side. “Bets..” he mumbled out, a little more breathy than he intended. He felt her hand pause on his chest right over his heart.

“I’m sorry juggie, am I distracting you?” He whipped his head to look at her and sure enough, she had on the most seductively sexy look he had ever seen.

“What is it that you’re trying to do Elizabeth Cooper?” He choked out.

Dropping her hand to the place where the suspenders connected with the top of his jeans, she raised an eyebrow

“I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about forsythe?”

His hand instantly clamped down to cover the one of top of his thigh

“You’re playing with fire betty Cooper” he whispered again

Pulling her hand away, she brought her lips close to his ear

“Well let’s see who gets burnt first then, hmm?”

Suddenly the sound of the bell signaling next period rang and Betty was sauntering away with a flick of her perfect ponytail.

Shaking his head, he moved uncomfortably in his seat. Looks like he was spending next period in this seat.

Oh game on Betty Cooper


It was perfect, utterly perfect, and Neil felt at once inspired and horrified by the sight of it. How could he possibly play here? He closed his eyes and breathed in, breathed out, imagining the way bodies sounded as they crashed into each other on the court, the way the announcer’s voice would only come through in muffled, scattered bursts, the roar of sixty-five thousand people reacting to a goal. He knew he didn’t deserve this, knew beyond a doubt he wasn’t good enough to play on this court, but he wanted and needed it so badly he ached all over. 

… He’d made the right decision. The risks didn’t matter; the consequences would be worth it. He had to be here. He had to play on this court at least once. He had to know if the crowd screamed loud enough to blow the roof off. He had to smell the sweat and overpriced stadium food. He needed to hear the buzzer sound as a ball slammed inside the white goal lines and lit the walls up red. 

“Oh,” Nicky said … “No wonder he chose you.”

 - The Foxhole Court [Nora Sakavic]

anonymous asked:

Jenna I love your writing so much! Can I prompt Johnlock and height difference? Xoxo

“John! They’re getting away!”

John leans against the wall, unfazed, and rolls his eyes. “Well, I can’t tell that, can I?”

“What are you talking about? They just ran and-”

“Oh for the love of- Sherlock!”

Finally, Sherlock’s head turns round to look down at John. His arms shake a little with the effort of keeping himself hanging, suspended, at the top of the wall.

John folds his arms. “Yeah, I gave you a boost up, I can’t give myself one.”

With a grunt and a sigh, Sherlock lets go of the wall and drops back down to the pavement. 

“Sorry,” he says, a touch awkwardly, but sincerely. “I forgot you’re-well-”

He actually pats John on the head with one gloved hand. John fights both impulses to either bat said hand away in rage, or laugh. 

Sherlock clears his throat. “There’s another-uh-way. If I remember correctly. Perhaps more suited to your…” His hand twirls. “Stature.”

John snorts. “My stature. Fine. Lead the way, Mr Gangly-Holmes.”

Later, culprit caught, the victory and adrenaline still pounding in their veins, they stumble into 221B and collapse against the wall, laughing fit to burst.

John turns, grabs Sherlock’s lapels, and stretches up onto his tip-toes. 

Sherlock is still giggling.

“For Christ’s-” John tugs on the lapels. “When will you- learn. To bloody-Crouch.” 

A sly foot delicately trips John until they’ve both fallen against the stairs. They lie on their backs, another laughing fit ignited, until Sherlock finally, finally, leans across and kisses John.

“Never,” Sherlock murmurs, smiling as John kisses him back.

You know, if the American version of Harry Potter had just used ‘closet’ instead of ‘cupboard’ I could have been spared from picturing this for the first half of the Sorcerer’s Stone.

Parents of the Groom

American Horror Story: Freak Show
Alternate Universe
California, August 1961

“Massimo! You are going to wear me out!” Elsa says, out of breath, as she sits down next to Sofia at one of the many round tables laid out on the hotel lawn.

“Oh, hardly. I think it’s the other way around,” Massimo tells her and leans down for a quick peck before sitting next to her.

“Jesus, you two,” Sofia mutters as she tries to balance little William on her lap with her overgrown belly.

“Oh, don’t be a sourpuss, Sofia,” Elsa says, reaching for her glass of champagne.

“Well, why on earth did Fritz decide to have an outdoor wedding in the heat of August?”

“Oh, hush. It’s a beautiful day.”

“Well, I’m uncomfortable.”

Keep reading

Sweet Dreams, My Dear (Markiplier x Reader) Prologue

Originally posted by heykeykey

Your sleepy eyes scan the screen, monitoring the dream you set in motion a few hours ago. So far so good, you think to yourself as you smile at the wondrous world you’ve created for the lucky dreamer.

You are a Dream Maker. And well, you do exactly that. You make dreams for the people of the world so when they fall asleep, weary from reality, they’re welcomed into a world of their own where anything can happen. However; it’d be a bit insane to think that you’re the only one making dreams for all the people of the world. Even for a high-level Dream Maker or your Boss, that workload is unimaginable. The relationship between Dreamers and Dream Makers is the reason both sides can rest easily. Every time a child is born, a new Dream Maker is born. Well, born is used loosely, more like a Dream Maker is formed from happiness, pixie dust, and clouds. But anyway, this makes it so that each person has their own personal Dream Maker who knows them best: knows their fears, their gifts, the things that make them jovial, even knows if they prefer cute, fluffy bunnies or fierce badass tigers as companions.

Now usually, everything is fine. Dreams are produced, the Dreamer wakes up well-rested and it’s time for the Dream Maker to recharge only to repeat the process once the day comes to an end. It’s only a problem when a Dream Maker doesn’t recharge fully or is too affected by their Dreamer’s mood… This leads to nightmares. When a Dream Maker produces a nightmare, our Boss is alerted and they’re punished based upon the severity of the nightmare. Thankfully the punishments are never too bad, a few days in the land of the living but never anything permanent.

Only thing is, it takes a lot of concentration to control dreams and right now, you feel your eyelids getting heavier and heavier. Shaking your head, you sigh and try to concentrate on the screen before you and resist the urge to shut your eyes. What’s left of the night? Maybe an hour or two more? You can last. You’ve done it before, just add a few more cats in top hats and watch how your Dreamer ( Who’s currently donned in suspenders and a top hat himself) would react to the absurd number of dapper kitty companions he has. A soft laugh passing your lips as his surprise yet welcome reaction to the furballs. Yeah, you’ll be just fine!

A loud yell pierces your slumber as you bolt up instantly. Your (e/c) eyes look around frantically only to meet harsh, steel blue eyes that are all too familiar. “H-Hey, Boss, what’s up?” You stammer out, trying to not let your fear show. For someone who is supposed to be the ruler of the ever so delightful Dream Realm, he’d be able to terrify the bravest Dreamer on Earth.

“‘What’s up?’ What’s up?!” He fumes, silver brows furrowing in anger, “What’s up is you dozed off and made a nightmare!”

And surely enough, when your eyes shamefully look back at the screen you see your Dreamer scared beyond belief as he runs away from giant, cat-like creatures with multiple heads and glowing red eyes. Instead of replying, you merely hang you head in humiliation. You’ve rarely done this, maybe a few times while you were a rookie, but not in at least sixteen or twenty years.

You can’t see your Boss’ expression but guessing as there isn’t more scolding, his anger has faded into disappointment. You raise your head a bit only to confirm your suspicion.

“You know what this means, right?” He asks expectantly, his voice holding a crestfallen tone rather than annoyance. One of his previously crossed arms reach out to you, though before you take it, your eyes meet his and share a sullen glance.

“How long will I stay?”



“At least twenty moons, you’re experienced. You should know better and recharge fully by the time your Dreamer is asleep and with how scared he had gotten, it earns at most fifteen moons in itself.” Your Boss informs while adding in a light scolding. He’s like a father-figure to the Dream Makers since you don’t exactly have parents yourself. It pains him to give harder punishments as this, especially when seeing the reactions. And to say the least, yours broke his heart.

“At least twenty moons?! Twenty?! But, Boss I swear, it’s a one-”

“Time thing, yes, I know. I’ve heard it before. A punishment fits the nightmare, (Y/n), and that’s yours. No ifs, ands, or buts. Got it?” He more sternly informs this time.

While you’re about to protest once more, his raised brow stops you. You sigh and accept the fact that you can’t escape your sentence. Your eyes leave his and travel down to the hand reached out to you and finally, you take it.

A blinding, golden light disorients you for a moment. Your body weighing down, your Boss’ hand disappearing from your own. Oh goodness, you’ve forgotten the feeling of flashing down. A heavy pit in your stomach and your feet feeling like lead, dragging you down from your cozy cloud above the ground. You want to scream, you so badly want to scream, but your voice seems to have vanished along with your former weightlessness body. There’s no control and all you know and recognize is that the light is beginning to fade. Suddenly, you have contact with another object, a giant weight hitting into you alongside the new weight of your body you feel.

Groaning, the pain starts to fade as you sit up. You look beneath you, curious to see exactly what you’ve hit. And much to your surprise, it’s a bench. You furrow your brows and decide to see exactly where you are and why your Boss could have possibly thought to leave you on a bench. Yet, you’re only confused more as you analyze your surroundings.

You’re outside.

At a bus stop.

In the middle of nowhere.

And it’s still dark outside.

Yeah, great Boss you have.