the way we wore: black style then

anonymous asked:

What would prom be like w sweetpea?

this one was actually not something I was expecting at all and im sad bc i feel like i should’ve put more thought into it (maybe I’ll revisit and revise later)

  • U totally thought he was never gonna ask - and if he did, you assumed it’d be a standard ‘ur my date, right?’ 
  • Nonono he went full out 
  • Definitely had some of the guys help out with the promposal 
  • Toni had to convince him to make it a less grungy
  • Had spent an entire weekend having the whyte wyrm cleaned (ish) and set up with hundreds of candles 
  • ‘This is dangerous pea’ ‘nah toni its totally fine whats the worst that could happen?’
  • Sp standing in the middle of the empty bar, illuminated by the candle light, pool balls on the table arranged to spell PROM? 
  • Sweet in his own sweet pea way 
  • Was v adamant on wearing red 
  • Like really adamant
  • ‘But i like the blue dress’ ‘im still wearing the red tie’ ‘but the DRESS’ ‘WE CAN’T NOT MATCH BABY, RED IS REALLY SEXY I PROMISE’
  • Showed up prom day wearing a skin tight black button down, black jeans, combat boots and his leather jacket 
  • His hair is actually styled back instead of in his face
  • Definitely wore the red bowtie
  • Is really proud that he tied it all by himself 
  • Holds u at arms length bc he cant get enough of how beautiful u look
  • ‘Babydoll..’ 
  • Literal heart eye emojis at you all night 
  • Doesn’t mind a single bit that u wanna take a billion photos (he later goes to have one framed for his wall and sticks another in his wallet) 
  • U bet ur ass u rode into prom on his harley 
  • U bet ur ass everyone had eyes on u 
  • Frequently would lean into your ear to whisper something about how breathtaking u looked 
  • Also probably whispered suggestive things abt his planned activities for the night
  • SP definitely brought u a corsage, and insisted on putting it on you 
  • Didn’t want to miss a single slow song. Danced to them all.
  • Dancing with toni and jug and fangs, watching his discomfort bc he can’t actually dance for the life of him 
  • Twirls you a lot 
  • ‘My real life princess’ 
  • Totally took u home and took ur dress off with his teeth
Guns & Roses - Pandemonium

Originally posted by mllestardust

Pairing: Yoongi X Reader

Genre: Mafia!AU Soulmate!AU

Warnings: Violence, Strong Language, Crappy Writing

♠️️ ❤ ️️♠️❤ ♠ ️️❤ ️️♠️️

     I wiped the sweat from my brow and turned to my co-worker and best friend, Hoseok.

    "I can’t wait ‘till I retire…“ I laid my head on the pile of work that I had to finish. It was currently 10:47 at night. Usually, by now I would have eaten and been in bed dreaming about living a much more interesting life than working from 7 to 7 as an office worker for YG, Seoul’s most important medical business.

    "형,” My friend laughed “We’ve barely been working here for six months and you already want to quit?”

    "Not quit,“ I raised a finger to correct him “Retire.”

    "Sorry, sorry retire.“ He raised his hands in defeat and ran his fingers through his black hair. "I’m ordering Chinese, you want something?” I hummed in response.

    "The usual.“ I lifted my head and continued my work unwillingly.

    When I finished high school I didn’t know what I wanted to be but spending my life as an office worker was something I definitely out of the question. Or so I thought. I’ve been hired and fired thousands of times. My first job as a fast food cashier was too much pressure. So many people in rush hour while I just wanted to lay down. Later as a grocery store stacker, material handler, coffee barista, you name it I worked on it. Thankfully though, Hobi was with me the entire time so we earned this crappy job together.

♠️️ ❤ ️️♠️❤ ♠ ️️❤ ️️♠️️

    We ate our spring (day) rolls and finished our work before midnight. Three minutes exactly. We tried looking for a cab but none were coming by, only regular cars.

    "I guess will have to walk.” Hobi thought aloud.


    While walking back to our houses we had some small talk. Well, Hobi spoke and I listened.

    "Say, Yoongi 형?”


    "How often do you think about your soulmate?” He looked at the elegant compass on my forearm. I followed his eyes and started tracing the intricate designs of roses and swirls unknowingly.

    "Not as much as you,“ I stopped and looked up "The only thing I think about is my compass and it’s embarrassing, I mean roses? Really? I feel like whoever matches up soulmates made a mistake with mine. I haven’t even met them and I don’t want to.”

    Soulmates are chosen for us at birth. We are each born with identical compasses with our soulmates always pointing towards them. Well, all except the people who are born without a compass. However, people change and that makes our compasses and fates change as well. My compass has changed six times already so it would make sense that I would give up on the idea of soulmates.

    "Don’t say that 형… “ Hobi looked at his own compass. A detailed compass, showing all the continents and oceans in one small drawing on his wrist.

    "Maybe the roses aren’t meant to be viewed as romantically but personally.” I thought about what he said. It made sense, but I shook it off. I don’t care about my soulmate. And if he or she cared they would’ve already found me.

    "What about you?“ I returned the question.

♠️️ ❤ ️️♠️❤ ♠ ️️❤ ️️♠️️

    "Now go inside. It’s scorching hot out here. ” We stopped in front of a pink three-story building where Hobi lived.

    "You can sleep over if you want, it’s pretty late and your apartment is farther down. “ I shook my head and waved as I walked away.

    His words repeated in my head. "Maybe the roses aren’t meant to be viewed romantically but personally. ”  What is happening to me? I’ve never cared about my soulmate so why should I start now? I shook my head and continued walking.

    After a while, I looked at my surroundings and didn’t find anything familiar. I was in an alleyway. Two abandoned buildings next to each other. Almost the whole street was abandoned. Still, clothes of every colour hung from multiple clotheslines.

    Suddenly, I heard a bullet ricochet, a kick, and a male voice groan. I didn’t know what to do. I panicked and started running. I looked at the man beside me turn away from his previous target and to me. He cocked the gun and shot…




    The wall. A girl - no, a woman pushed me onto the ground and grabbed her own gun. She had large (E/C) eyes and balayage hair up in a ponytail, some strands that were loose framed her (S/C) face. She wore a black crop top, skinny jeans, red combat boots, and a red plaid shirt around her waist.

    "We can do this the easy way, or the hard way dear. “ She stated calmly. The man was taller than her and wore a black outfit with dress shoes. Hair styled slick back and his blue eyes full of anger, I knew he was business. He shot next to her head but she didn’t flinch.

    "The hard way I guess. ” She sighed and ran towards him at full speed. Before he could do anything she kicked the left side of his face and he dropped to the floor. He grabbed his bleeding nose but remained a firm grip on the metallic weapon. He glared at her.

    "Listen here little gir-“ She kicked the other side of his face, grabbed him by the collar, and kneed him in the groin.

    "I am not a little girl. Now tell me where the damn records before I give both you and your cowardly partner a nice and slow death by my friend Ink. ” Her low voice and aggressive words made me shiver.

    "Brown… Suitcase… In car… 346… GW… 81… “ The man said in between breaths. She turned him around and lead him to the car, never letting go of him. Silently, I followed and hid behind a dumpster. She opened the trunk of a red car and took out a brown suitcase.

    "Passcode?” She brought the man closer to her and he whispered into her ear something incoherent. She dropped him inside the open trunk and opened the suitcase. She scanned through a portfolio stamped Confidential in red ink.

    "Good. “ She simply said. She put in the portfolio and closed the brown suitcase. She took a dagger out of her belt and stabbed him in the left side of his abdomen. She took out a rose and put it in with the almost unconscious male. She closed the trunk and walked back at me.

    "What the hell were you thinking, soulmate?” This entire time, I never noticed my compass glowing yellow and pointing at her.

starry--knight  asked:

I keep reading 'voltron pjo au' as voltron pyjamas au 😂 SO COULD I REQUEST VOLTRON PJO PYJAMAS PARTY?

HOW DARE YOU KELSEY LMAO! But I forgive you cause this is cute.

[Voltron PJO AU] Keith was on his way to the arena to start his day when Lance bumped into him. Upon seeing the son of Poseidon, Keith’s mood turned sour but then he remembered that Lance and him were friends now. So, his frown disappeared immediately.

“Oh hey, Mullet Head!” Lance greeted, as if shocked to see him. “I was just giving out stuff to the gang and here.” He handed him a handmade flyer. “I’ll see you then! Have to go and see my sunshine. That’s Hunk by the way. In case you didn’t know. Shiro’s at the arena and he’s looking for you!” 

Keith did know about Lance and Hunk. It wasn’t even a secret at how much PDA they were doing. He looked at the flyer and he furrowed his eyebrows.

PYJAMAS PARTY AT CABIN 13! (Keith’s Cabin) 
Saturday Night! 
Wear your cute pyjamas and bring snacks to share! 

“Lance, what the—,” he looked up to see he was standing alone. The other boy no longer in sight. 

How the hell was there an event that was going to be held in his cabin without his knowledge? What kind of crappy organizer was Lance? Besides, he didn’t even agree to any of this.

Pocketing the paper, he headed to the arena and saw Shiro. The son of Zeus spotted him and his whole face just lit up. Dammit. Now Keith couldn’t help but smile back at his boyfriend too.

He was about to tell Shiro about how ridiculous Lance was when Shiro waved a paper at him, grinning. “I’m so happy we’re having a pyjamas party, Keith! I’ve never had one and it seems exciting!”

Keith deflated. Fricking Lance. He planned all of this. Now there was no way he could cancel the party he had no idea of. Shiro was excited and who was Keith to kill that excitement? 

Saturday night arrived faster than Keith had hoped. The next thing he knew, he was making sure his cabin looked presentable. There was a knock on his door and Shiro was on the other side when he opened it.

Shiro’s smile on his face turned into a frown when he took notice of what Keith was wearing. “Why aren’t you in your pjs?”

“I don’t have one,” Keith deadpanned.

“Liar,” Shiro rolled his eyes, letting himself in. “I know you have pyjamas, Keith. Don’t even deny it. You wear them when you sleepover at my cabin.” The older boy headed towards his wardrobe and checked himself. “Here we go! Look at this. Black pjs with daggers. Your favourite since they’re so soft and comfy!” 

Keith scowled. He loved those pyjamas but there was no way the others were going to see him in them over his dead body.

They saw him wear the black patterned pyjamas and Lance was holding back his laughter while Hunk, and Allura cooed. Pidge however, was checking out the different styles of daggers printed on them. Everyone wore their night wear as they prepared their mattresses on the floor.

“There’s no point of pyjamas party if we don’t sleep on the floor, Keith. What the hell is wrong with you?” Lance was scandalized when Keith offered the other beds for them in his cabin.

“It’s all about the bonding, man. We have to be all cuddly when we sleep together,” Hunk added as a matter-of-factly. 

“Awww, Keith is this your first time?” Pidge teased.

“It’s my first time too!” Shiro said, raising a finger.

“All the better then,” Allura clapped her hands excitedly. “We have so much to do during this sleepover party!”

“It’s a Pyjamas Party, Allura.”

“Same banana, Lance.”

“This is the shittiest game ever created,” Keith grumbled, hands crossed.

“You’re just saying that cause you’re a sissy!” Lance retorted. “Everyone loves the game of truth or dare! It’s a classic game!”

“Says no one ever,” Keith rolled his eyes. Then he saw Shiro smiling at him.

“I volunteer as tribute,” Shiro said. “I’ll take the first one.”

“Okay, Mr. Zeus Junior,” Pidge smirked. “Truth or Dare?”

“Dare,” Shiro answered with determination.

“I dare you to give Keith a striptease.” Pidge challenged and then everyone was Oooooh-ing.

Keith’s eyes widened in shock. “YOU CAN’T DO THAT TO HIM!!!” 

Shiro flushed, his body was frozen and Keith started to panic. 

“Look what you did to him! YOU BROKE MY BOYFRIEND!” Keith turned to Shiro and shook him. The rest was just laughing so hard while Shiro was heating up and Keith didn’t know how to fix it. 

Thoughts on Tony Awards 2017

Primarily focused on Musical Theater….

I’m sad that “Great Comet” didn’t get more, to be honest. Purely from a technical perspective, this show was a marvel. So I would have loved to see Best Orchestrations, Best Costumes, and Best Director. Rachel Chavkin took a story that seemed nearly impossible to make and made it relatable and fulfilling. It’s really weird, but in an soaring way- and I hope that more shows have the nerve that this show has. It was the only show I saw this season, and it was a ridiculously unique theatrical experience. It’s also a shame the telecast didn’t highlight Deneé Benton’s voice. What an amazing gift. And her performance of Natasha- at once naive and innocent but also dangerous and flirtatious- was a surprisingly fantastic female character full of “life and mischief.” We need more like them, and more shows that place them at the front.

Dear Evan Hansen. I get it; at times it highlights the worst tendencies of young adult novels. It’s frustrating. Poorly plotted moments, like “To Break In a Glove” (which basically screams, “It’s a metaphor!!!”), to Alana’s broad racial characterization (her blackness seems to inform her identity to the point of stereotype), dim the moments of pure joy and despair into cliché. But what a carefully understood story otherwise. The startling emotional intelligence of the show’s lyrics by Pasek and Paul shine through the most. Forget all the social commentary of social media and social anxiety and depression. This is a story about one person, and that one person was completely brought to life. That this show resonates with audiences is no surprise- it is deeply empathetic to the point of pushing you completely down, but always pushing forward.

I’ll admit to not having listened to / read the other musicals. I’m immediately skeptical of Come From Away; whole-hearted goodness in the face of tragedy is certainly a fine message, but its celebration of Canada and a specific group of people seem to be the message it really wants to send. There’s nothing really wrong about this- it just seems more like an advertisement than a show. “Me and the Sky” is a lovely song, but do I need a sustained, winking “American Airlines” in the middle of the song? The show’s broad commercialism, in the face of 9/11, seems to work as a message of hope. And then at moments like this, it feels trivial.

Edit: From some of the comments here, Come From Away is apparently a really special, communal experience that isn’t really quite captured in the recording or promos. Which I have to say, is probably true. As someone who hasn’t seen that show, I’m not judging the show, just the concept and what I’ve seen at the Tonys. Of course I would die to have a ticket- who wouldn’t? If you want to share your experience with this show, and prove my original skepticism wrong, please message me or comment. Let’s start a dialogue! 

I’m sure Groundhog Day was a fine musical, but like “Matilda,” I’m sure it did a great job of bringing the story and bringing out the strengths to the stage while also not being absolutely astonishing. Groundhog Day is one of the perfect mergings of concept and execution in film, so I’m happy they found a way for it to work on the stage. The choice for the telecast was a less energized than lovely. Probably a direction the whole show wants to follow- and this is one that understands its boundaries and I can respect.

Assorted notes on the rest:

  • It’s absolutely ludicrous that “Sweat” is Lynn Nottage’s debut on Broadway. A two-time Pulitzer-prize winner just now on Broadway? It shows the conservatism of producing works by black and female artists.
  • “Penny in my Pocket” from “Hello Dolly” was a fine song. But to have Bette Midler walk around stage all night taunting us of her lack of performance was really just upsetting. Mostly to the chorus members of that show; they deserve a time to shine.
  • Miss Saigon.” You lumbering beast of a musical. I am so happy to see Asians on the stage of the world. But there has to be more than this for us. There has to be more, and it’s up to Asian writers like me to make sure that not every Asian woman has to play a prostitute to be on Broadway.
  • The staging of “Waving Through a Window” I found at once fascinating but also a little… obvious? It seemed to say to the audience, “This is a show about social media!” instead of having them just listen to the lyrics and actually understand the acute longing of Evan. But overall I’m totally down for Michael Grief’s direction. He seems like someone very aware of the message of his shows, and that’s a wonderful thing to see.
  • I would absolutely love to see every single Best Play nominee. They all look like achievements in the art form.
  • Falsettos” was a nice reunion, although it was frustrating that the only lesbian kiss on national television was for “Great Comet” and not this or “Indecent.” Thank God Christian Borle wore a wig. Those 80s outfits were killing it. Thanks PBS for taking care of the community with the theatrical release.
  • War Paint? Meh. Clearly a star vehicle, but with the distinctly modern blend of music seen in the Best Musical nominees, this one seems to be harkening on a musical theater style that is dated. We’re living in the era of “Fun Home” and “Hamilton.” The entire genre is shifting.
  • Why was the one black character of Bandstand an announcer with one line? Aren’t we past this? And from a creative from Hamilton no less?
  • Kevin Spacey was fine as a host. The knowing meta thing wore off way too quickly, but I do appreciate the focus on all the nominees instead of the Something-Rotten-musical-mishmash of last year’s opening number.
  • I sincerely hope the Great Comet stays on Broadway for a few years. It’s truly an unparalleled show in terms of its fearlessness in just going to its concept. I think that even if you don’t like the music, or think it achieved something meaningful, you can at least admire its creative ambition.
  • Thanks to @zartharn for watching with me! “And the Tony goes to… Michael Arden’s revival of Spring Awakening!”
New Hat

Trent was leaving the office when he saw the camo style hat laying on the ground. He picked it up and looked around for anyone who might be looking for it. The day had been pretty windy so he had no idea how far it could have blown.

“Maybe you should try it on,” Christine smiled at how silly someone like Trent wearing the hat would be. It was clearly a few sizes too big for him. Besides Trent wasn’t the kind of guy who wore hats. He styled his dark black hair to the right the same way every day. A hat would just mess it up.

However, trying to impress Christine, he tried it on, “how do I look?”

She started laughing and gave him a friendly slap to the arm, “Not too bad. Maybe you are a hat kind of guy.”

“Maybe,” he smiled back. “And maybe we could go get drinks later.”

“Trent…” she said with a pleasant smile. “I don’t want to give you the wrong idea… It’s just I’m not that interested in a relationship right now. You know how hard the business world is. And it could get awkward if there’s a promotion… Or…”

“Nah I get it,” he tried laughing it off. “Don’t worry about it. I wasn’t serious anyway,” They both tried to force the smile as they waved their goodbyes. That was probably going to be the last time he tried asking her out. Obviously she wasn’t interested in him. “Probably cause I’m so god damn skinny,” he wanted to scream. It took him forever to be able to find clothes small enough that fit his scrawny frame. And even then sometimes they looked too big.

“Doesn’t matter,” he scoffed trying to regain his composure. There were plenty of other people out there. He just needed to keep looking. And right now he was just more frustrated that he couldn’t find his car. The parking garage was huge but he could have sworn it was on the fourth floor. He started clicking the unlock button to see the headlights light up. He finally found it. It was right where he always left it. But for some reason it didn’t feel right.

The white muscle car with a long blue stripe across the hood and roof was definitely his car. For some reason he kept thinking it was supposed to be a black company car. He shook his head realizing how stupid that was. He wasn’t given a company car. His dad might have gotten him the job but he didn’t get everything the other guys got. If anything he had to constantly prove that he was just as good as them.

Trent tossed his jacket into the passenger seat. For some reason it was feeling really tight. He always hated wearing the suits to the office. They were so stuffy and uncomfortable. It was like he was constantly pretending to be uptight. He undid his tie and tossed it onto his jacket. Being in his car he was allowed to be more comfortable. Turning the key, he felt his ‘baby’ come to life. The sweet purr of the muscle car filled the vacant parking garage. “Freakin’ sweet,” he whispered to his car. “Always feels good to hear that sound.” It was something his father always said was a wasted expense. But compared to the large cabinet of china plates they had never used, Trent couldn’t see the comparison.

He loosened the buttons on his sleeves and rolled them up as he drove home. Dress shirts were always tight on him. He hated the dress code at work. If the pay wasn’t so good he probably would have quit a long time ago. Not to mention the benefits; a full time gym he had complete access to on the clock. That’s really all he wanted.

“Fuck,” he cursed as the top button popped off his shirt. The pump he got this afternoon felt so good that it didn’t even bother him. The shirt was getting old anyway. His dad had criticized him for getting too big but as long as he came dressed professionally it didn’t matter. “I’ll just use it for later,” he needed another old shirt anyway. Online he’d recently found out how many other guys did that. It wasn’t making him much yet but there was a little market for it.

Trent thought about how happy his dad would be if he was talking about markets. He’d been sent through business school only barely making it out with passing grades. His dad promised him a job. It just wasn’t going to be directly with the clients. Those were for the smart guys. That’s what his dad always said. He hated how Trent refused to study in college. Passing only just barely or because of the amount of money daddy gave them. And that’s not even mentioning the favors he’d given to some of the nerds in his class.

Part of him failed out of spite. He didn’t want to be some pencil pushing nobody who only sat behind a desk all day. He flexed his arm. The fabric around started to rip. “Shit. The guys are going to be pissed if it’s already ripped.” He was thinking about his internet audience. They always appreciated a new video. He quickly set up the camera in the hall and hit record.

“Alright you little fuckers. I got a nice treat for you today. This shirt doesn’t fit me anymore so I expect at least a thousand likes.” His voice boomed as he narrated the video. “Now this shirt used to be one of my favorites when I was a little pussy like you. You see this huge arm?” He slapped the flexed bicep, “Going to rip through any second. Bet you wish you were here. Then you could feel this,” he paused letting the fabric rip around his arm and shoulder. “You want to feel this?” It tore even more. Revealing more skin, “Right?! You want to fuckin’ feel this!” He ripped the rest of the sleeve off with his other hand.

The back of his shirt split open. He turned around and flexed his wide lats. The shirt kept tearing down his back showing off the deep muscles he’d built up over the years. He groaned loudly and acted like he was struggling to remove the shirt. With a loud shout he tore it completely off. “FUCK YEAH!”

“You guys got a little extra today,” he flexed his pecs for the camera. “Got a new hat to celebrate all the new subscribers but I demand at least fifteen hundred likes. Got it?” Trent glared into the camera acting all tough. He stopped the recording. His face softened to a nice smile. “Those guys fucking love this shit.” He put on his XXL shirt and posed for another picture for his online fan base.

‘New hat for new followers. Wanna see more? Pay more,’ he uploaded the file. Sure he would have loved to go out with Christine tonight but keeping his fans happy was just as important.

Valentines? Peter Parker X Reader

Your name: submit What is this?

“Are you guys coming to my party tonight?” Liv asked, stopping at Michelle, Ned, Peter and my table. The four of us glanced up in shock (okay everyone except Michelle was shocked. She didn’t really care).
Peter turned his gaze straight back to the mysterious green sludge the school called lunch, and Ned looked like he was going to either puke or faint.

“Sure,” I replied, turning back to Liv with a smile. Yeah, I was jealous that Peter spent practically every spare minute of his thinking about the girl, but it’s not as if she wasn’t nice. She was incredibly sweet, so I guess I could deal.

Keep reading

The Darkness In Me (Part 12)

Thank you all for every like, reblog and reply. I really appreciate it! 
If you want to be on the taglist send me a message ♥♥♥

Summary: From the outside you seem to have everything. Everything other girls want to be. Good looking, beautiful and an amazing singer. But no one sees what really blooms inside you. The darkness is about to consume you every day a little bit more. Can this handsome stranger who was there when you needed him the most also save you from the darkness lurking inside you?

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Angst, violence

Word Count: 1261


◄•••  Part 11          Part 12          Part 13 •••►

Bucky stayed true to his words. I needed the energy from my little nap not only for round two, but also round three and four. Now every single step reminds me of the passionate activities I had with him.

Today was the masquerade ball and the Avengers Tower was crowded with people, trying desperately to satisfy Tony Stark’s extraordinary imagination of a perfect ball. Good luck with that.

After breakfast Wanda and Natasha took me away from Bucky for some much needed girl time. Our dresses were already in Wanda’s room. Natasha made sure we had all kind of cosmetic products and makeup we needed to get ourselves ready for the masquerade tonight.

While we started painting our nails in the same color as our dresses, Wanda and Nat questioned me non-stop about my night with Bucky. “No! I’m not gonna tell you any details. Bucky and I had amazing sex. That’s all you gonna hear from me. The rest stays private between Bucky and me. Sorry, girls.” “Yeah, because your actions of last night were sooo private. We all could hear you two going at it for hours!” Natasha stated with a dirty smirk. I could feel myself getting hot from all the embarrassment, but also bursted out laughing along with my two best friends.

Tons of makeup and hours later Wanda put the last strands of my [Y/H/C] hair in loose curls, falling elegantly around my face. “All done! Now let’s put on our masks and let tons of men fall on their knees in front of us.” Wanda said seductively wiggling with one of her perfect curved eyebrows. “I only need one man on his knees.” “Oh, we know [Y/N]”, Natasha laughed out.

We stepped side by side in front of Wanda’s huge mirror. We looked stunning to say the least and that still would be an understatement.

“Girls you are amazing! For the first time I feel beautiful next to the two of you.” “No way! You look always beautiful, [Y/N]. What you see in the mirror is all YOU.”

After studying my features a while longer in the reflection, I realised Wanda was indeed right. They only accentuated my natural beauty with a little bit of smokey eyeshadow and dark red flat lipstick, making my lips look more plump and full.

My black mask was only bedecked with golden glitter, while the green mask from Natasha and the violet one from Wanda were decorated with feathers. They both looked a little bit more girly in general than me. To say it with Natasha’s words, my whole outfit screamed SEX.

It was finally time to show ourselves at the masquerade ball. The ball itself already started an hour ago, but Nat’s golden rule for attending any kind of event, was never showing up until it really began.

The three of us stepped together out of the elevator and were immediately greeted with music playing in the background and people talking everywhere, gathered together in small groups. I was instantly enamored with the different outfits and masks of the guests. The whole party area was decorated elegantly in black, white and silver. Everywhere I looked it either glowed or glittered in silver.  

I spotted Bucky in the company of Steve and Sam at the other end of the room, a glass of probably champagne in hand. His eyes were fixated on me. He bit his lip seductively while looking my body up and down. He sent me a wink along with a sexy smirk of his full lips.

As always Bucky was handsome as hell. His red and gold mask fitted perfectly to my color theme. He wore a black suit along with a black shirt under, the last buttons open, showing more skin he usually does in public. His hair was styled back showing all of his beautiful face, his cheekbones seemed even sharper accentuated by the mask. When I stood before him I could get lost in his sparkling blue eyes the way he looked at me, like I was the most precious thing in his world.

“You look ravishing, [Y/N].” He kissed me on the lips, longer than he typically did when we were in public. “You don’t look bad yourself, Sargeant.” The effect of hearing his rank showing instantly in his now lust filled eyes. “Would you like to dance, doll?” Bucky asked charmingly, offering me his flesh hand. “I would love to.” I said smiling widely, but not like he suspected, took his metal hand and dragged him to the dancefloor after me.

Many people, especially girls, were staring at Bucky and me dancing. I could almost hear their thoughts about Bucky, because of the way they shamelessly checked him out. Well he was recognised as the Winter Soldier, because of his displayed metal hand and he was really attractive after all. I couldn’t really blame them for drooling over him, but still could feel a pang of jealousy flowing through my body.

Bucky tilted my face up, pecking my lips tenderly. My jealousy was washed away in an instant when I stared into Bucky’s piercing grey-blue eyes. They were filled with nothing but love. “No need to be insecure or jealous, darling. You are the most beautiful woman in this room. What am I saying?! The most beautiful woman in the whole universe!”

“Bucky!” I giggled embarrassed at his declaration. “What? It’s true”, he said with a straight face and steady voice. “Oh, shut up and dance with me you old sap! Let’s enjoy ourselves.” Bucky knew right away I only changed the subject , because I felt uneasy about his compliments. Probably there would never be a time where I wouldn’t feel insecure. Eric made sure of that.

Bucky and I swayed gracefully over the dancefloor, dancing the night away together. He never once left my side, his flesh hand always pressed securely against my lower back.

“I need to go to the restrooms for a minute. Would you order us some drinks in the meantime?” I whispered to Bucky. “Sure. Don’t let me wait too long for you.” He winked, before making his way through the party guests to the bar.

I checked my appearance in the mirror over the sink. Makeup and hair were still in place. Satisfied I left the restroom only to get in contact with a firm chest. “I’m sorry.” I immediately told the stranger that held me by my arms to prevent me from stumbling back.

“Don’t worry, beautiful. You know it takes a lot more to sweep me off my feet.” My entire body froze, my mind went blank and I was unable to breath anymore. I could never forget that voice, not even if I wanted to. It haunted me in every single nightmare. Against my will I looked up.

A smirk on his lips he studied me from bottom to top, taking his mask off with an evil glint evident in his dark eyes. “E-eric …” I stuttered weakly, my voice barely audible. Fear was crawling through me, completely paralyzing me.

“Did you miss me, beautiful?” Not expecting a reply or giving me time to answer, he grabbed me by my hair and pressed me brutally against the wall. Blood was dripping down my nose and lips and my vision started to became blurred.

The last words my mind could process, before I got unconscious, were making my worst nightmare come to life. “We’re gonna have so much fun together, [Y/N]. Just like the good old days.”

PART 13 •••►




As promised here’s the outfit post of the costume I wore at my first day of WGT2015 (⁰▿⁰) . My boyfriend took the pics in our holiday apartment which was placed a bit out-of-town. I was happy that we booked an apartment anyway since it was way more easy to dress up like this then if we had stayed at a tent (-‿◦).

Summer ‘97 after Sophomore Year  - the original, pristine navy blue Boston Red Sox cap  “B” on the front

January ‘98 in his  Junior Year - The “B” relocated to the ‘back’, his ‘front’ of the hat, now sporting his signature look. It’s distinctly Dylan’s very own creative, personal style which set him apart from the other dudes that simply wore their ball cap backwards.

 It’s difficult to say if this is a new ball cap or not.  The poor video color quality makes it hard to distinguish whether it’s still his original navy blue cap from ‘97 (photo at the top) or new black ball cap.   Since we don’t see the back of Dylan’s head in this clip, we have no way of knowing if this may possibly be a new Colorado Avalanche hat that he sewed the “B” on the ‘front’, his ‘back’ - or - he if he got a plain black cap and sewed the “B” on the front and also the Colorado Avalanche patch on the back.  

Based on Sue’s quote below, it would seem that Dylan retired his original navy blue Boston Red Sox ball cap and replaced it with this one in Jan ‘98 and worked with his mom to relocate the original “B” from off his old cap to the new.

By Senior year, Dylan is sporting a rather tattered, well worn ball cap with the signature “B” on the “front” and Colorado Avalanche patch on the “back”

“The next morning, as we were all getting ready to join civilization at the continental breakfast, Dylan pulled his old baseball cap, one of his favorite possessions, over his long hair. We’d made the cap together: he’d carefully snipped the “B” (for Boston Red Sox) off another hat grown too shabby to wear, and I’d sewn the letter to the back of a new hat, so he could wear it
backwards and still display the logo. It turned out remarkably well, and he never wanted to be without it.”  
– Sue Klebold  “A Mother’s Reckoning”

More on Dylan’s ballcap:
The idiosyncrasies of DBK: Boston Red Sox ball cap

15. “So, I found this waterfall…” / 24. “You’re the only one I trust to do this.”

anon request: 24 and 15 with lucifer? Thank you

Hi *wave* so the idea for this came to me this morning in the shower (don’t ask) and I kinda like it ^^ I loved how I got a request for Lucifer, by the way! I just love Mark P. - hell I adore him! x I saw him at purgatory convention and probs fell in love with him there haha he was so funny and amazing! x Thank you for that!

Keep reading

Sisters, Sisters, There Were Never Such Devoted Sisters

My life has been largely one of solitude and quiet pursuits.  I’ve certainly had my wild and carefree times (the 70s and 80s leap to mind).  Maybe not so much carefree - I’ve always been sort of a worrier.  More accurately, a brooder.  I spent much of my time reading and writing. I’ve read a lot of good books, but haven’t been such a good writer. I’ve learned to accept my limitations and still have a fairly good life.

I’ve been married and divorced, and have had several long term relationships with (except for one) very nice men.  Unfortunately, I never found the “life partner” I’d expected, nor had children, which I regret, but I don’t dwell on it.  Some of my friends used to joke that I dated out of my league, meaning that, for a girl who was sort of cute, maybe moderately pretty for about 6 months or so many years back, I dated really good looking men (again, except for one, coincidentally, the same one who was not so nice).  My personal belief is that most people are average good looking, and only a very few are beautiful or ugly.  I’ve never been called beautiful, but I have been called ugly when I was a kid, and it bothered me for a long time, until it didn’t.  I knew I wasn’t beautiful, but I realized I wasn’t ugly, and I was ok with that.

The thing is, only a couple of boys called me ugly, but a lot of girls did.  I wasn’t the only one they taunted.  Lots of us got the same treatment and, I assume, some of those mean girls experienced it as well.  Middle school is harsh but, for the most part, we survive.  I only thought of it recently since I joined a few social media sites, including Tumblr.

Even in my very senior middle age, I appreciate good looking men.  I assume that never goes away, at least, I hope it doesn’t.  There are so many hot guys out there.  I even made a board on my Pinterest site for Hot Guys, pinning them from all over the internet.  The first guy I pinned is an Australian actor named Nathan Page, who is on a TV show called Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries.  While the show is pretty good, and the entire cast and crew are terrific, Nathan Page, as Detective Jack Robinson, is the reason I watch, and I am not alone.

While madly pinning picture after picture of Mr. Page onto my Hot Guys board, I became aware of several sites devoted to him.  These fans are, to say the least, giddily enthusiastic about him, and many have undertaken writing what is called fan fiction, creating their own stories involving the characters in the Miss Fisher series.  I had never heard of fan fiction, so it was all new to me.  Some stories and authors are better than others, but all of it is written from a simple, sincere devotion to an actor and his character.  Some of it is really sexy.  Some of the authors are very good with dialogue (very difficult to do) and others are good with character development.  Then there are those who are good at writing about sex.

While I’ve never gotten into reading sexy or pornographic stories just for the sake of sex, I do enjoy reading a well wrought urn of a piece, if you catch my drift.  Sexual fantasy collections, such as those compiled by Nancy Friday in the 70s, have never appealed to me, nor turned me on, but a great dirty bit of fun in a novel or short story can be a real treat.  Some of the fan fiction I’ve been reading lately has certainly met the high water mark, in my opinion, and a lot of it has even made me laugh - in a good way.  

I few days ago I read the newest chapter submitted by one of the many Nathan Page/Miss Fisher fanfic authors.  It was very lusty, to say the least, and she received a lot of positive feedback (full disclosure - i, too, reviewed her submission positively).  I should have noted earlier that all of these fans and authors are women.

In this particular instance, the author received a very upsetting note from a woman accusing her of encouraging violence and rape against women.  She was very angry and, I thought, somewhat abusive.  It made me think of my days in the 70s and 80s when I was involved with several feminist and women’s rights groups.  There were always women who were angrier than the rest of us.  There was a small splinter group that posited that all sex with men is rape, and there is no such thing as consensual sex between a man and woman.  I met a lot of man haters and, I believe, a lot of women who hate women.  If you’re old enough, do you remember “lipstick lesbians?”  One of my gay women friends wore light makeup and wore dresses, along with pants and such, not because she was hiding her sexuality, but because she liked it - that was her style.  I was in a women’s group meeting with her one time when a very angry, aggressive, hostile woman verbally attacked her, calling her a traitor and a lipstick lesbian, which was new to me.  I said to her “Pam, what the fuck can she do to you - drum you out?!”  We laughed, but it was scary, and she was very hurt.

There is no one way to be a woman. Or a man.  Or black or white or straight or gay or French or Chinese.  There just isn’t.  Nobody can please everybody.  Nobody should try to please everybody, but you only realize that when you get to be old.  Bullies are all around us, from the time we’re small and have limited retaliation skills, to middle and high school, even into college and, sadly, the work place.  Why wouldn’t they be trolling social network sites, too?  You, admittedly, take your chances when you write something personal and send it off into the wild, uncharted territory of what is called the Blogosphere.  You have to expect that there may be some negative reactions, and that some of them may even be sharply honed to shame and intimidate.  It’s the nature of the bully, whether they’re 12 years old or 45.  

Anyway, long story even longer, many of us rallied around our dear little fanfic author, a sisterhood, if you will, and I hope we encouraged her to keep up with what she loves doing.  I don’t know any of these women, but I know I could be their Mother or, in some cases, Grandmother (OUCH),  I’ve grown so fond of this little fandom, and have grown protective when any member is attacked.  It’s so weird.  I used to go shit crazy on kids who teased my real little sisters and brother many years ago, so I guess it’s just a natural reflex, and I’m not apologizing.  Sisters really do have to stick together, even when the bully is another sister.

So, here I am, looking forward to the next installment of Nathan Page’s - or, Detective Inspector Jack Robinson’s - lusty pursuit of Miss Fisher.  These fanfic authors never let me down!